Candles Drowning

by KC

Note: Inspired by a dream as described by Stalkerofdoom. There was discussion about Leonardo losing his moral center, a short RP ensued, followed swiftly by this short, with further bits dribbling out.

Summary: Blood lust, but without the fangs that could hurt his brothers. Claws that never scratch their skin. But vampires are possessive creatures, and pets who disobey walk a dangerous line.

Pairings: Leo/Mikey/Don/Raph

Warnings: dubcon, vampirism, very dubious consent, forced bloodletting

Dozens of candles lit his room, filling it with a warmth that infused his cool skin. Surrounded by fire light, Leonardo sat on the thick mat he'd found for himself, a prayer rug for the faithful that now framed his body and drew looks down away from the shadows above him. The candle light did not reach the ceiling, leaving it comfortably dark, a smoldering shade of gold that wavered unsteadily in the flickering glow.

In his room, the light settled like a blanket along the floor, wrapping around him as he drowsed.

As he breathed, relishing the feel of air moving through him and sighing out again, the shadows breathed as well.

A candle guttered. The flame hissed and drowned in its own wax. His eyes opening to slits, Leonardo unerringly spotted the one dark wick. His breath stopped.

The candle smoked, glowed red...and began to burn again.

He closed his eyes and basked in warmth.

Beneath him in the lair, the televisions clicked off. The lights dimmed, and Donatello shut his lab and put his last cup of coffee in the sink. Donatello gave a heavy sigh, dragging his feet up the stairs and to his own room. The door closed after him.

Leonardo listened. His brother put down his tablet, pulled back his bedsheets. The mattress pressed down, and then his brother stretched out and pulled the blanket over himself. A moment passed as Donatello breathed deep, slowly settling into sleep.

Leonardo let the candles burn around him for another hour. His brother worked himself so hard, staying up insanely late. Working on strange projects for weeks or months. Waking early so that he all but lived off of coffee.

Heavily sugared coffee. Smiling in anticipation, Leonardo rose to his feet. He lifted his hands slightly, then made a quick cutting motion to either side.

The candles all puffed out, sending up trails of smoke as he passed.

His brother's room lay just beside his own. Leonardo lay his hand flat on the door. It wasn't locked, but he didn't want to touch the handle. They all woke so easily. He closed his eyes, felt the thin spaces between the door and the wall, the keyhole, the space under the door...

...and opened his eyes on the other side of the door.

Dark save for the tiny glow from the charging tablet, the room stood in strange shades of grey and black. The line of Donatello's desk, his laptop, the low edge of his bed softened by the blanket over the side. Leonardo came beside him and sat on the edge of the mattress, not even creasing the cloth.

In sleep, Donatello lay curled on his side, head nestled against his folded pillow. He breathed so lightly that even Leonardo strained to hear it, soothing and comforting to hear it in the still air. And the more he listened, the more he caught Donatello's heartbeat, faint but growing, as if it slowly came nearer and nearer.

His brother was alive, so alarmingly and tantalizingly alive, warm and breathing and vulnerable. Leonardo felt some part of himself ache to see this, in love with watching over him, hearing his whole body moving and working, even in rest. He put his hand to Donatello's cheek-

His brother's eyes flew open.

Not sure why he was awake, Donatello sat straight and pushed himself away, pressing against the wall. His eyes tried to make sense of the dark blur in front of himself, more a hint of motion than anything he could see. Donatello reached across his pillow and tapped his tablet screen. The cold blue glow lit a small circle around him, and at the edge of the bed, leaning close-

"Leo?" he whispered. He squinted, both blinded by the dim light and struggling to see the darkness just beyond it. "Why are you-?"

Leonardo reached out again, running the back of his hand across Donatello's cheek.

Donatello's breath caught. His eyes widened. No mistaking that gesture, the intimate nature of it. The sensual lingering of a cool hand just under his eye, a fingertip over his lip.

"Leo?"

"Your heart," Leonardo whispered, staring at the spot over Dontello's plastron. "It's like a little bird in there, just fluttering in a mad panic."

Putting his hand over his chest as if covering himself, Donatello swallowed once, lifting his head away from his brother's hand. Leonardo sounded as if he could actually see his heart. Sounded as if he were underwater, leaning closer as Donatello leaned back.

"Leo," Donatello whispered, then made himself speak louder. "Is something wrong with you-?"

"Nothing," Leonardo said, and he cupped his hand by Donatello's face, forcing him to look at him. "Be calm. You're mine. You're safe."

"...yours? But..." Donatello groaned, more exhausted than when he had been when asleep. His head tilted into his brother's hand. "No. What're you...?"

"Calm," Leonardo said. His voice came not from outside but inside Donatello's head, a firm command no less stern for all its gentleness. "You're mine. You're safe."

"Safe," Donatello murmured. His head tilted more and more and Leonardo was suddenly behind him, holding him in his arms like a snake around a mouse, flush against his body. When had his brother come under the covers? And without moving him? Donatello was too tired to think, barely feeling the tiniest point on his throat. A scratch, and then his brother's mouth closed on his skin.

Warmth flooded him, pulling him down so that he was heavier than lead, easily maneuvered in Leonardo's hands. He had the sensation of something moving out of him, flowing into his brother, and his brother made soft, satisfied sounds. A sated lover. A cat's purr. A barely contained hiss.

"See?" Leonardo whispered. "You're safe. I would never hurt you."

"Nev'r hur' me," Donatello slurred, content to repeat whatever Leonardo wanted him to say.

"You're mine," Leonardo said, all but breathed in his ear. "And I take care of what's mine."

Feeling as satisfied as Leonardo sounded, Donatello found himself placed back properly in bed. The blankets came to his throat. The light was doused. A kiss, coppery and hot, pressed to his mouth and stole entry, forcing a long taste that Donatello could not stop and did not want to stop.

"Sleep," Leonardo said, one last kiss to to the corner of his mouth. "And forget."

Donatello gave a tiny murmur that might have been an agreement. He did not hear his brother against slip past the door, lost in dreams that would fade in the morning, a dagger at his throat and a loving hand holding the blade.

TBC...