Old A/N: *Warning*: This small fanfic DOES include T-Cest, and a vaguely descriptive intimate scene, along with some cussing (Raph). If you do not wish to read this, then please turn back now. No flaming, and no improper comments, for it's not my fault that you continued to read despite my immediate warning.

Now for those of you who wish to continue, then I thank you for your patience.

(Scenes may, or may not, seem implicit. It all depends on how, you- the reader deem it to be.)

New A/N: This story is years old, even before I had posted it on DeviantArt. I glanced it over it quickly, but I didn't complete much editing. This is definitely not my best work, and I still have a ways to go when it comes to my skill in writing, but I at least hope you enjoy this.


~ Part One ~


It's so fuckin' hot, and too damn suffocating. The walls feel as if they're squeezing in on me, tryin' to forever trap me within' the confines of the Dojo.

Still, I plow onward in a fit of unbridl'd rage. Raw anger and frustration is eatin' away at my insides, turnin' my blood inta molten lava. I don't ev'n 'member what it was that had gott'n me so on edge anymore.

It's been hours. No. Days, or weeks even, since I've stepped foot outta this room. All I can clearly recall is an endless round of me an' the punchin' bag, along wit' a few bloodied knuckles. I push aside the naggin' feelin' that something larger is loomin' in the corners of my mind. Somethin' dark and foreboding. Instead, I growl out in pure anger, successfully drowning out the prick of sudden fear and dread.

I vaguely register the sensation of hot liquid seepin' through th' bandages wrapp'd 'bout my hands and down my arms. For some reason I find this discovery to be one of minute importance; a mere nuisance of sorts that has already happen'd more than a dozen times. All I do know, is that I'm so damn angry. Yet I have no fuckin' clue as to why.

I pause ta wipe th' sweat outta my eyes, flickin' drops of perspiration down unta th' tatami mats. Huffin' an' pantin' heavily - I attack the bag with renew'd vigor.

Perhaps Mikey had bugg'd me once too much earlier, or had Don belittl'd my intelligence to where I jus' lost it?

I shake my head in a negative connotation.

Nah. None of that would've set me a'flame like this. There was only one turtle with th' ability ta do that an'... damnit!
It had'ta of been Fearless. My upper lip curls at the thought of the eldest. That damn bastard always had a way of pushin' my buttons like none-oth'r.

Releasing a snarl of pure savageness, I slam my right fist smack-dab in th' middle of my punchin' bag. It gives off a pitiful moan, before comin' undone at the hinges and flyin' across the room. The impact of it hittin' the wall causes for the bag to tear an' inadvertently spill forth its contents.

"Shit."

Yeah, it definitely had somethin' ta do wit' Leo. No wonder I'm on a rampage of this caliber. All I hav'ta do now, is fuckin' figure out what it was that'd happen'd!

Sudden images flit across my mind's eye, teasin' me and baitin' me with a false pretense of what'd occurr'd earlier.


Leo in the kitchen, sippin' his "ev'r-so-glorious tea". Liftin' his head, he smiles at me, a downright true kinda smile. The type where the skin 'round his eyes crinkle, an' the tip of flashin' canines are acutely visible.

I can't help but return a smile of my own. A strange sensation makin' me feel... happy an' content. Slidin' inta the chair across from him, I watch as he continues to nurse his drink.

Then I find myself payin' closer attention. More attention than I'd ever giv'n him in the past. I soak in th' small details, such as the routine-like way he breathes in the aroma of his tea, 'fore takin' a sip outta his mug.

His mug. It's the same damn mug ev'ry day; a wish-wash mixture of dark and bright blues, adorn'd with a jagged chip at th' corner. A mug that I'd found in the junkyard one day and had deem'd worthy enough to give as a birthday present. Yet, he doesn't seem to mind the deformities of th' mug. In fact, it's as if he actually enjoys it. I follow his finger as it lightly traces ov'r the chipp'd area almost as if it provides him wit' reassurance, or somethin' of th' sorts.

I look back up'ta his face, mappin' out the smooth planes of unscarred flesh, and the contour of his mask. Soaking in the colors of his skin, I subconsciously compare them to Mikey's and Donnie's natural hues, and find Leo's to be rather more... exotic, in a sense. His coloration and muscle tone both make him out to be a rather handsome kinda guy. Huh... I'd never notic'd jus' how enticing Fearless's skin was.

I'm shock'd. Shit, what am I doing!? Did I really jus' think that? I must be losin' my damn mind.

Suddenly, I feel another's gaze on me, an' I snap back inta reality. Jus' in time for me ta spy Leo lookin' at me inquiringly, his head cock'd slightly ta th' side.

Crap, he's caught me starin' at him for however fuckin' long.

I jus' glare at him in response, a teasin' tone present in my voice, in order to soft'n my verbal blow, "hurry it up Fearless. I ain't got all day fer ya to finish your shit-ass-tea."

He jus' chuckles, an' I breathe out a silent sigh of relief.

I'll have'ta have Donnie-boy check me over; make sure I didn't inhale no strange chemicals that might've mess'd up my head or anythin' cause there's no way I'd be thinkin' these thoughts on my own.


I close my eyes an' breath deeply, tryin' to continue to break down this barrier of temporary amnesia. It doesn't take long for 'noth'r memory to surface.


Enterin' the Dojo, I stop dead in my tracks at th' sight before me. Shit. Leo's in there.

Turns out that these past thoughts were of my own doin', and now I'm goin' ballistic tryin' to figure out what to do. Leo and the other's have started to question my strange behavior. It's taken everything I had to not lash out at the two and jump Fearless. It'd be a nightmare tryin' to explain that to Splinter.

I hold my breath as I fall into that trap of desire and take a moment to study Leo. He's conductin' some form of new kata or 'nother and it does nothing to alleviate the desire lurkin' within. I should turn an' leave; save myself from fallin' deeper into this pit I've found myself in lately. Instead, I jus' chose to stand back an' watch.

I find myself tracin' each bead of sweat trailing down his body wit' fascination. My gaze locks unto the grooves of muscle an' bone that twitch wit' ev'ry movement he makes. The ev'n breaths he exhales drone on in my ears - makin' me twitch wit' somethin' alien an' not at all that unwelcome. Everythin' else fades away, until it's jus'... him.

Leo, whose doin' some very complicat'd moves wit' his body.

Leo, whose bendin', an' twistin' in ev'ry which way.

Leo, whose makin' me feel things I shouldn't.

"Fuck Fearless," I cringe as I realize that I'd said that out-loud, an' immediately hope that he didn't hear me. He freezes durin' the process of performin' a roundhouse kick, tiltin' his head in my direction, an' exhalin' slowly. Damn.

He turns to face me, an' I tense, preparin' for the ev'r present tongue lashin' that Leo is practically born wit'. I could play this off as usual. Cuss him out for tryin' to be "Splinter Jr".

Twist these inappropriate feelin's inta anger an' rage. An emotion I sure know how'ta deal wit'.

I open my mouth to verbally counterattack. Yet, once his gaze finally lands on me, I freeze, the words stuck in the back of my throat.

His eyes. They shine with something primal and breathtaking. I can see a torrent of ragin' emotions play across those twin sapphires, an' I immediately snap my beak shut.

"Raphael."
An' that's all it takes. He doesn't say it wit' disapproval or anger. No, it's something foreign, something I want to hear over an' over again. Somethin' I sure as hell don't truly understand, but shit, do I want to know.
One word, an' he has set everythin' in motion. Figures he finally figured it out. Damn you Leonardo. Damn. you.


My breaths have grown heavier. Memories. These memories bring on a fresh wave of emotions. Ones of such content, happiness, passion, an' lust. My gaze travels through th' cracked openin' of the Dojo doors, an' toward Leo's room. My body shivers at th' thought of that particular night.


A spark of electricity travels from my head to my toes, makin' me shiver uncontrollably. His hands travel up an' all around... slowly... intimately...

I can't refrain from lettin' a churr break lose. I am fire, an' he's ice. The right combination for explodin' need an' ragin' want.

He smiles at me, testin' out my more sensitive areas, in order to draw that sound out of me once more; to make me cry out his name in such a way unbefittin' for oth'r ears.

Instead, I grin at him devilishly, an' proceed to torment him in the same way, if not more insistently. I am rough, an' teasing. Playin' him as easily as an instrument. Pluckin' the metaphorical strings, in order to orchestrate such tantalizin' music from deep within his throat.

He plays this game just as well; turning me on thoroughly, toward even more of a fevered state than I thought possible. I moan out in ecstasy as his teeth an' mouth do wonderful things in the area between my neck an' shoulder. He is soft, yet demandin'; strict, yet playful. He is fuckin' perfect, and crap, I want more.

His touch sends a cold fire burnin' through my veins. His lips send me on a high of incomprehensible magnitude. His breath urges me on. His voice, a delicious sound of hoarse desire an' husky timbre, causes for me to go wild.

He leans in close, an' soon his tongue is intertwinin' with my own. I taste the hint of freshly brewed tea an' green mint in his mouth. Runnin' my tongue up over his teeth an' around his gums, I map out the entire structure of his oral area; making note of all the bumps an' ridges, grooves an' sensitive locations.

We grow rougher, a more dominant struggle growin' between us, yet I find no true hint of aggression formin'. No, it is merely more of a teasin' taunt, a way for us to break the proverbial ice an' take that next step; it works.

His thigh slides between my legs, an' brushes up against my lower region. I buck instinctively, urgent and demandin'. He continues to caress there, until I finally drop down. His touch sends my senses overflowin', and I growl out in a harsh bark of mixed pants an' moans.

His left hand holds me down as I desperately try an' thrust inta his hand. Dang it Leo! I grab him 'bout th' shoulders, an' tug him down in a attempt to break his iron hold.

Right then an' there, I don't care. I don't care who tops, or who takes the lead. I can always win that game later. Now though? Now, all I want is him. All I need is him.

"Leo," I churr out wantonly. He eagerly follows th' unsaid command, an' I am soon on th' ride of my life.