A/N: Happy VERY Late New Year! I wish you all a wonderful, fulfilling year; you deserve it!^^
I wasn't feeling confident or pleased with my writing style and my writing, in general, at all lately, probably because of anxiety – undiagnosed since those around me don't believe anxiety is a thing that's real *long sigh* Luckily, I have rarepairs to cheer me up XD
Warnings: Some Language, Probably OOC, Too Self-Indulgent, Idiots Boys Falling In Love, Terribly Long Prose (my philologist is shaking in their grave, but I'm sucker for long sentences; they're my stress reliever.)
Hope I can update it more regularly than my other fics! (hah) XD
"Hanging By A Moment."
It starts fairly innocent at first, just the faintest brush of Leo's lips against his cheek. He doesn't even notice it, but Casey does, and the blush has reached his ears by the time the feeling's gone. Or – five times Leo kissed Casey, and one time Casey kissed him back.
I'm livin' for the only thing I know
I'm running here and I'm not quite sure
Where to go?
And down I know I'd like to be in tune
Just hanging by a moment here with you
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm hanging by a moment here with you
It starts fairly innocent at first, just the faintest brush of Leo's lips against his cheek. He doesn't even notice it, but Casey does, and the blush has reached his ears by the time the feeling's gone.
The night is cold and heavy, even heavier and thicker down in the lair, but Casey doesn't mind it, accepts the coughing ambiance that takes place and camps in his lungs.
It's better down here, besides. The air is harder, but at least, it's there, giving him the chance to inhale and exhale and feel alive in his bones.
When he's at home, it's almost as if he can't breathe.
He has found a cozy corner at the small kitchen and reads his old manga with a forgotten gum still lingering thoughtlessly in his mouth, while he half-listens to Leo and Raph talk over in mellow, quiet voices.
It's not normal – the soft silence that surrounds them these days – not normal and certainly not rightly-deserved. It makes Casey's heart ache for them, beat slower and sadder against his chest.
The rhythm of it, though, doesn't stay like this, picks up very quickly, very unintentionally, and very pleasantly, as Leo scoots beside him to catch a towel that's hanging on the chair, his breath hovering next to his cheek and his lips, barely there, graze his skin softly.
Something deep in his chest clenches and flutters, almost like a bird in a cage – and Casey bits his lip, lifts his manga higher to hide cowardly the red color that faintly adorns his face, a tiny blushing cloud over his expression but most surely there, if someone's paid attention enough to notice.
But Leo doesn't notice it, continues his low talk with Raph as if nothing has happened – and nothing has really happened, honestly. It's one of those things, which happen in accident and don't really matter – because it's really stupid of him to begin overthinking in the middle of the night – a Friday, chillax night – when it's no good worth.
Casey shakes his head, takes a sip of the root beer he holds in his hand and swallows hard enough to push away the excited lump that has decided to start dancing around his throat.
But he can't push it off of his chest – there's already a footprint of that prominent feeling on his heart, one he had only felt on the fingers that turned the pages of his shōjo manga– and that is only the beginning.
The second time it happens, it's almost as unexpected as the first one.
"Movie time!" Michelangelo has announced with a mouthful of popcorns, and the oversized blankets that he brings to throw and huddle all of them under feel a bit too much like Casey's mom's warm hugs, that always left him full and complete and too okay.
The scent of popcorns and sewer mingles in his nose in a strange feat of odd familiarity that he seems he can only find here – thinks that if he had decided to stay home, he would, sincerely, miss it – the slow way everything falls into place in a perfect manner of a genuine puzzle he never had the chance to acquire.
"I'm glad you came," the whisper comes from his left and he turns his head to meet Leo's bright eyes, big and endless as they grace his face and stare thrillingly into his like he's the only person in the room.
The feeling's too much – whether it's their close, so close proximity, the warmth that radiates from the fluffy blankets or the coolness that seeps from Leo's smooth flesh as it's pressed against his bare arm – or perhaps the whole concept, which is sadly unbelievable for him to wrap his mind around it;
The fact that the turtles – his friends – his family – would unquestionably welcome him and cater him in their arms no matter what time or day it is, fierce and quiet, no doubt, no hesitation whatsoever, no questions asked – as if he truly deserves this.
"You'd miss me, otherwise, dudes, wouldn't you?" he whispers back instead, because it's not easy for him to articulate all the emotions that constantly run through his veins like a much-need poison – but he hardens his eyes, tries to make it up with some sort of silent communication that he feels is sufficient enough.
Luckily, Leo is great at this – the things spoken in silence – knows when he's supposed to leave the quietness talk – so, he simply smiles, sheepishly and pleased, and nods with eyes, again too big – too big for his face, his age.
The sight is too lovely, even for Casey, who wants to appreciate with every little bit of his heart anything wonderful he finds with the corner of his vision, and he tears off his eyes and glues them to the screen, lets the noises of the movie and gibberish messes of the brothers – his brothers – chatting fill his ears.
Because, sometimes, quietness can be a bit scary, too.
And it's when the film is nearing its happy end, that Leo chuckles, fondly, softly, and whole-heartedly – a sound torn between a We need this happy ending or We won't get this happy ending or a weird combination of both – and presses briefly his still tremblingly laughing mouth on Casey's neck.
Casey gulps, and he's not sure if it's from surprise or embarrassment – but the pulse races hard against his throat, making his blood pump fast.
And as if this wasn't enough, as if this fleeting touch didn't give him enough content to pour his mind over in hot, confusing drops – Leo speaks up again, truly earnestly, in between everyone's jeers, so close to his ear that the words tickle his nape and the insides of his heart, "You're right. I would miss you."
He can't help but snort nervously, a short breath that gets stuck in his nose momentarily and then, thankfully leaves easily enough, because he is putting way much thought on this – all these stuff that is most probably another kind of family thing he yet again doesn't understand, a space between family love and romantic love he hasn't learned how to separate from one another, because he was never taught either of them.
It's weird – and kind of pathetic, in some ways, how the outcasts, the antisocially heroic creatures that live below the world seem to know more about the world and the relationships that are like orbits around it than him.
But – it's not as if he doesn't know shit – he knows this is not something to pinpoint, it's not a blossoming, twirling feeling that is soaring inside him and there to stay – it's just –
It's just a thing that slightly baffles him and enraptures him, too – for a lot of unknowingly complicated reasons, and mostly because – who could have thought Leo would feel so comfortable – and Casey would be that worth it – to provide unconsciously, primarily platonic smooches in sewers that smell like stale farts?
But, it's not like Casey stays up late at night thinking about him, he muses and laughs under his breath, a noise that turns into loving chokes when Raph drags him into a good-natured headlock and grins.
And during that night, Casey is bundled up between his puffy sheets, brain all drained out after working on the paper he didn't finish, eyes tired – because of the studying, or, more possibly, because of his rejection of prescription of glasses – and yet, still wide awake.
He stares at his ceiling, where the stars he had glued with his little sister are bright – so familiar – and lets his eyes close slowly, under the warmth of his bed and the blue light shining.
He thinks of the last few years, the hardships that have shaken him and his family like a hurricane, bending them in ways that they could have been broken – but didn't, the deaths that came upon them and left shadows of grief cast around them and haunt them for the times to come, the small moments that kept them close and bonded and proved people wrong – because his father was a person in the manner it mattered – but a monster – and his now new-found, holy family is a bunch of odd little treasures – freaks but not monsters.
He thinks of Mikey, how he is always grinning when he sees him, and feeds him even when he says he's not hungry, because, somehow, he knows he is; he thinks of Donnie, who stayed up late hundreds of nights, along with coffee, energy drinks, pencils and soft-spoken, encouraging words, just so Casey could pass the class and graduate – because his genius of a brother believed so;
He thinks of Raph, who has been on his side since the start, not giving up on him on each bump they faced because their friendship meant too much and was too much strong – and was so much more, built on the foundation of purely equal devotion, that nothing could ever ruin it, rip the seams apart.
And he thinks of Leo, self-assured and sincerely serene – who works so hard to so perfect, gives so much of himself to others, because he wants to, cradles the world in his hands with the utmost care in the universe – who has no idea that he is the most decent and strong person to arise, a combination of wonders, being a total badassery in front of Casey, katanas blazing, while still making him hot chocolate in the cold aftermaths and blowing Casey's tongue with his tingling, tea-scented breath when it got burnt.
But, he doesn't want to think about this – him – knows what happens when you get too close – has seen it happen on his father's face gradually. It's terrifying to hold such sentiments, when you can't identify the whole air around them – a tower of Pisa-like emotion.
He is going to sleep.
Yet, he shuts his eyes even tighter, and the image that fills his mind is still his. He's looking at him from a blanket too big for him and the TV light in the darkness makes his face a mixture of watercolors flashing, a soft smile playing on his lips, and Casey's sitting next to him, knee pressed to his.
And he tells him he is happy Casey is there – happy because of him – and that he would miss him, he, on his own, a confession that touches his heart like a caress of a leaf, because it's from him, Leo, who is so close to him, so unexpected, and his blue eyes are so adorably truthful, whom he thought wouldn't stay awake all night thinking of – but now he is anyway –
And the gap between them – literal and metaphorical – in his fantasy and in reality – is narrow enough that it feels it would be just as natural as breathing for him to lean forward so he can ki –
Casey opens his eyes fast, stares at the ceiling and groans beneath his sheets.
Rubbing his hands all over his face, he swears with feeling and shakes his head. "Oh, shit."
A/N: Oh god, this is so stupid, sorry. ;;u;;
