Don't read if you are underage, if you can't stand male/male situations or if you think our turtles involving with each other is gruesome. You have been warned. Not really descriptive, but that's my opinion. We don't own the TMNT.

Written by littlefurryguy and ghostwriter, beta by katt30.

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Raph breathed deep, trying to block the unwelcome thoughts that buzzed in his mind. Defeated, he opened his eyes to face the reason of his torture. Leonardo, moving with his usual grace while perfecting one of the most difficult katas, every step smoothly linked with the next on a beautiful dance that set Raphael's nerves on edge.

Because Leo's eyes showed a raw passion he usually didn't display, and it burned Raphael to the bone.

There was no need to give more thinking to his bodily reactions; he already knew what was wrong with him. Wrong. Because there was no other word that could describe what he had started feeling for the elder turtle, even before they discovered the meaning of "sex-driven". Wrong. The reason why he choose to be so sexually active, why he kept going to unknown women trying to get rid of the desire that overruled him a few days every year.

The days where he preferred to stay out of their home, as distant as he could from temptation.

The days where he fantasized with Leonardo finding him before he could put his animal instincts under control.

For a week before and a week later he was edgy around Leo, but he transformed it into rude words and stronger brawls, freely given punches and dangerous sparring sessions that made him horny as hell. Raphael frequently wondered if his mind thought of it as a mating ritual, but was never curious enough to ask Donnie about it. There was no way he could approach the subject without his brainy brother finally figuring it out.

As for the rest of the year … well, those days his attraction was easily tamed, although he could not deny it was always present. He had long ago accepted the fact that nothing could be done to wane his lust, which made easier to find new ways to hide it; because Leonardo was always acting as the perfect brother, the sensitive son, the supportive leader that noticed when something bothered any member of his clan.

It is practically impossible to keep yourself in check when the one you desperately want to fuck senseless is constantly following you around, nagging and asking if there's something wrong.

Wrong ... the fact that the fire should not be as strong as it currently was.

Wrong ... the fact that Leonardo had not been himself lately, frequently loosing control for almost a month now.

Wrong ... the fact that they were alone, and would have the lair for themselves for the rest of the night.

Wrong ... the fact that his brother was waiting for him to join in on the practice.

As if reading his mind, Leonardo's pace slowed down as he ended the exercise.

"Aren't you going to warm up?" the blue-clad turtle asked while retrieving his bottle of water.

"I'm warm enough" was Raph's response. Oddly enough, the elder accepted it, motioning for him to move into the dojo.

"What do you want to do?"

You really don't want to know.

"Humoring the angry turtle, huh?"

That produced a small smirk from the subject addressed, and Raphael couldn't help but notice that Leo appeared to be using this chat time to recover his breath. How long had he been training?

"Not likely; but I heard you torturing the punching bag up in your room."

A blue towel removed sweat from face and arms, but the legs remained untouched. Hold on.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't want complaints on how I won because you were tired," Leo said and Raph snorted at this.

A series of stretching movements designed to loosen sore muscles, exposing more neck skin than usual. Stay in control.

"You wanna go directly to the spar session? What happened to the katas and such?"

Leonardo didn't answer immediately, choosing instead to move to the bench, where he left his twin katana.

"You are not in the mood. Something has been troubling you all day," he explained, motioning for his brother to reciprocate and remove the sais from his belt.

"So Fearless Leader decided he needed to go soft with me," the red-clad turtle pointed, but put the weapons aside nonetheless. Keep your distance.

"Nah. I decided you needed to get your ass thoughtfully kicked."

"Wha-?"

So much for trying to avoid contact, as Leonardo had dropped to a crouch and took Raphael down in one swift kick to the legs before retreating and falling into a defense stance, a smug smirk on his face.

"The only rule is, no other weapons than your own body. The loser has to admit defeat for the fight to end."

Fight, no spar. No rules, no forbidden movements. Raphael's blood boiled but there was no anger behind it. Everything seemed clearer, sharper, bolder; he had suddenly arrived to the highest point of his heat state, the hormones clouding any rational thought.

"You have no idea what you are getting into." It was more of an animalistic growl than his usual speech, but Leo showed no fear. Instead, it looked as if his smile grew bigger at this.

"Come and show me."

That made it.

Raphael lunged forward, but couldn't take his brother by surprise. It didn't matter; he was looking for a different approach. He assaulted and attacked once and again, all the time trying to use as little stamina as he could. It probably would not have worked with Leonardo's usual fighting style, but this was Raph's territory. The older turtle was constantly forced to delve into his energy reserves, already tired by his early exercises.

Punch after punch, kick after kick, Leonardo was slowly losing and they both knew it; still he didn't return to the efficient movements that Ninjitsu dictated, choosing to match his brother with sheer force. His mistake. But even as he was being clearly overpowered, no real damage had been done; it was as if Raphael's main objective was to exhaust him, which he was obviously achieving.

What do you want to do?

Touch you, taste you, take you.

Leonardo was drained although still not ready to admit defeat. He wanted to fight to the end, showing his brother the respect he felt towards him. It was not anger that kept him dodging the blows, it hasn't been anger to begin with. Yes, he had been losing his temper regularly on the recent days; but Raphael's odd demeanor distracted his mind from the irk that consumed his soul. He loved the hotheaded turtle, and would do anything to help him face his own demons.

He tripped.

One second he was evading a kick, the next one he was crushed onto the mat. Raphael's weight keeping him down, Raphael's hands gripping his own hands over his head, yet Leonardo didn't give up. There was something else going on, something he could not put into words. It told him this had not been their everyday fight, and that he would surrender more than his leader's pride by acknowledging his brother as the winner. Although these were his conditions, and he trusted the other turtle with his life, he somehow knew this decision would change their relationship.

He ceased his struggling.

What came next should had startled Leonardo, but didn't. It was as if part of him, his animal instinct perhaps, understood since the beginning what was going on. This same part prevented him from getting up and running away as fast as he could, even when Raphael's grasp relaxed a little; but it was another part of him, his conscious psyche, which convinced him to go along with it. That and the fact that what his brother was doing on his neck felt incredibly good.

For second time on the night, he submitted to Raphael.

Raphael couldn't bring himself to stop. The only conclusion his mind could utter was that real life was far more intoxicating that any fantasy his fever imagination ever provided him with. Right after he knocked Leo down, the red-clad turtle managed to regain some sense of control while realizing he had been about to rape his unsuspecting brother. It scared the shit out of him, and he would have left at light speed, but Leo's actions prevented it.

He was not struggling any more.

Before the younger brother rationalized its meaning, his instincts took handle of the situation and made him move forward. This was not wrong, this was natural. Mating, bonding, his now not so rational part provided, but he didn't care. All that mattered was he was about to claim his prize, one he had rightfully conquered under any law, human or animal. Leonardo didn't move, he didn't run but remained motionless as a rock. It wasn't important, Raph thought; he would get what was his, and that was enough.

Or so he believed.

He changed his mind when Leonardo turned his head to the left, giving him more access to the tender flesh of his neck. It could be said that worked as a punch to the gut, or a cold shower, as it gave him back the lucidity he had been lacking; but that didn't make him change his plans. In fact, it only made his determination increase, knowing that his brother was not freaking out.

However, his words of earlier made him hesitate; it could be true that Leonardo really had no idea what he was getting into.

He gave a tentative bite where his brother's neck and shoulder joined, not trying to cut the skin yet hard enough to increase the sensitivity of the soft spot; then he traced its contour with his tongue in regular circles again and again, waiting for Leo's response. He wasn't disappointed.

Leo gasped.

Leo moaned.

There he was: perfect brother, sensitive son, supportive leader, Raphael's torture and his temptation; all of this, nothing of this and beyond, utterly and completely under his younger brother's control.

That is, until Leonardo turned the tables and changed places with his brother in one quick movement, pinning him down with a knee on the stomach and a hand by the neck, hovering mere inches above the pipe. Now, that was a cold shower, Raph decided, recovering enough to look at the other. However, what he found was unexpected, as Leonardo's startled face showed it had not been premeditated.

"I won," Raph said, with a tingle of reproach.

Leonardo nodded while getting up, a sheepish smile gracing his face as he offered a hand to Raphael.

"Sorry, I don't know what happened. Must be the Ninja instincts kicking in."

He let go of his brother's arm as soon as he usually would, neither lingering nor hurrying; just as if nothing unusual had happened between the two of them. Almost happened.

"Where are you going?" Raphael asked incredulously when his brother picked up bottle and towel, obviously preparing to leave.

"To my room," he answered, matter-of-factly. He was already at the dojo entrance.

"What? Why?" Raphael walked; he was not chasing his brother down. Not yet, anyway.

"Because," Leo looked at him, slowing his pace, "I can't stand your hammock."

"What the hell is that supposed to ..." Woa, woa, hold on to your horses. Was Leo suggesting ...? Did he just say ...?

Could it be possible that Raph had been invited to his brother's bedroom; as in, the least innocent of invitations?

Come and show me.

Oh I will, Leo; I swear I will.

Leonardo kept his eyes on him, making sure the true meaning of his words was acknowledged; there was no room for misunderstanding.

Raphael's smug smile was followed by Leonardo's risen eye-ridge.

"Don't expect me to go soft on you."

Leonardo laughed at that, slowly walking backwards.

"When have you ever gone soft on me, Raphael?"

"You might have a point there."

"Hey, guys! Glad to see ya!"

Were he to notice the killer gazes his brothers directed to him, Michelangelo should have run and hid. Nonetheless, he had gone directly to the TV monitors, hardly paying attention to anything else. He was comfortably cushioned on the sofa in no time, while Leonardo put his hand on Raphael's arm as to prevent the hotheaded turtle to stomp on and massacre their baby bro.

"Michelangelo, what are you doing here?" he questioned.

"Ape's telly go bum," Mikey explained, his attention on the multiple screens.

"I wonder how ..." Raphael murmured, but still launched no attack.

"And why didn't Master Splinter notify me of this?" Leonardo was now standing behind the sofa. Michelangelo graced him with a guilty smile.

"Because ... uh ... he didn't know?"

The seconds passed by, and Michelangelo could not bring himself to tear his eyes from Leonardo's. There were no complaints from him when the elder turtle picked up the remote and tossed it to Raphael. The monitors died.

"Where are you supposed to be?" was the next question.

"On ... um ... patrol? But I did it really, really fast before coming here," the orange-clad turtle said, trying to save his skin.

"Donatello ...?"

"He is at April's place, with Master Splinter. They kicked me out, bro! Donnie said I was being a nius- ... a nusian- ... that I was getting on their nerves. But it was not my fault, I was getting bored! I mean, how am I supposed to survive without a TV? You know ..."

"Mikey, that's enough." Leonardo put his hands up, either to ask for silence or in surrender; he wasn't sure. In any case, he knew that Mikey's excuse was a valid one: it was a torture to let the bouncy turtle get bored, almost as cruel as it was to obligate somebody to cope with Michelangelo in those conditions. He sighed and massaged his temples before addressing his brother again.

"Call Master Splinter and ask for forgiveness; inform him that one of us will take your place. Apologize with April, for whatever you did to her television. Tell Donnie it was not your intention to be a nuisance. And Mikey, no matter what Master Splinter's punishment to you will get, you'd better be prepared for mine."

Michelangelo dashed to the kitchen, where the telephone was.

"And if Master Splinter asks who will go?" he asked out loud.

Leonardo turned to look at Raphael. He wasn't sure about that.

"Tell him you don't know," Leo said.

Raphael's curiosity was piqued by his brother's answer. He expected Leonardo to take Michelangelo's place, with him being Mr. Responsible and all. What did he have to think about? Unless ...

"I promise I won't touch him," he supplied, low voice. Leonardo's unconvinced stare showed that the blue-clad turtle didn't believe it. "Trust me, it's only you; it has always been you."

His confession took Leonardo by surprise. Hell, it took Raphael by surprise.

"I trust you, Raph," Leo said with the smallest smile. "But I'm not sure you won't try to kill him if you two are alone."

Oh, that.

"I guess I'm not sure either," he had to agree.

Michelangelo's chatter could be heard all the way from the kitchen. The call will obviously keep him busy for a few more minutes; maybe they could take the risk? Raphael plopped onto the sofa, to stop himself from touching his brother. If they started anything, no matter how small, he would be way down the road in a few seconds. Unstoppable, they called it.

Leonardo leaned on the couch's back.

So close, yet so far.

"Go on patrol before you arrive to April's apartment," the leader suggested. "It would be better if you allow some steam out first."

"Am I getting your permission to beat some punks around?"

"Those were not my words." Yet Leo didn't tell him not to do precisely that. Instead, they turned to look at their younger brother coming out of the kitchen.

"Just for your info, the TV fiasco was not my fault."

"You can't blame a turtle for thinking it was," Raphael retorted, moving into the dojo to retrieve his sais. He smiled to himself, as Michelangelo was looking for the remote control on the wrong places while keeping an eye on Leonardo.

"Leo? What happened to your neck?"

Raph stopped dead on his tracks. Fortunately, his little brother was not looking at him; otherwise he would have noticed his flushed state.

"This? It's Raph's fault." Before Mikey was able to interrogate him, Raphael rushed to the exit. Leonardo snickered. "Our last practice; we fought, he won, I'm nursing several bruises."

"Wow! He defeated you?"

"He totally wiped the floor with my shell."

"No way! And you aren't mad at him?"

"Not really; he deserved his victory. I guess his motivation was stronger."

"And yours wasn't, huh?"

"In fact, it was. I was trying to distract him from his gloom."

"You can put a check on that; although I thought he would gloat a little more about beating Ol' Fearless Leader."

"Well, maybe we have not figured him out as thoroughly as we believed. And I can say he was happy. Sort of."

"And that makes you a happy turtle too, huh?"

"Yeah, you can say that."

"Of course I can say that! I know exactly what rocks your boat, big bro."

In their home entrance, hidden in the shadows, Raphael shook his head. No, Mikey, you really don't know. He moved into the tunnel, already thinking on the thugs he would take down to discharge his frustration. The last thing he heard from his brothers was Leonardo's voice.

"Keep the courtesies short, Michelangelo; I still haven't forgotten about your punishment." He said.

TBC