Short drabbles featuring FootClan!Leo being a sexy nuisance in the turtle brothers lives and agitating their kinks. Darkish towards the end.
(A/N: Donnie's chapter. I thought this kink fit well with his intelligence and his personality. The idea hit me after I watched TMNT 2007, and Leo's voice just SMACKED me in the face with sexiness.)
Tiny mention of t-cest... Well I guess it IS t-cest, but Leo's not a bro in this. So. Take that how you will LOLZ.)
Ch1- Silver Tongue (Narratophilia)
Donatello is stimulated by words- long, hard, sensual words. Leonardo has amazing diction.
Donatello had always liked big, long words, and how they sounded coming out of his mouth.
When he was younger, he'd scavenge through their meager collection to find the biggest books to read, partly out of interest and partly because he knew they'd have the biggest, longest words inside.
He'd sit at his desk for hours and practice them, rolling words like Soliloquy and Melancholy and Machiavellianism around his tongue, loving the taste of them, pretty and papery. He scoured medical books and encyclopedias and thesauruses, unable to get enough no matter how many horribly elongated words and terms he crammed into his vocabulary.
He sampled other languages too. Spanish and Italian were beautiful and flowery, German was tart and salty and French was the juiciest language there was. But English was comforting and homey, like warm coffee. He did hold a fondness for Japanese, however, which Splinter appreciated.
He developed a bit of an oral fixation- his pens and pencils never lasted for more than a few weeks before inevitably winding up chewed and perpetually saliva dampened in the bottom of his lab trashcan. When he was bored or preoccupied he would gnaw on his fingers or knuckles, and his nails were always shorter than his brother's, but nothing physical ever felt or tasted as good as the tangible intangibility of words.
He was thirteen when he discovered that words could have a completely DIFFERENT taste. Trolling the internet late at night, Donatello found his first sample of erotica, and nearly lost his mind. Video porn had never really done anything for him- messy and loud and full of distracting sounds and annoyingly fuzzy camera shots.
Put SEX into WORDS, though, and Donatello found himself hooked and fascinated.
But even after he discovered the wonder of erotica, it was still hard pressed to find something that was actually to his palate. Often he could only find short, scrawled stories about sparkly vampires written by preteen fangirls trying to masturbate while they wrote, full of short, chopped, repeated words that grated on his nerves.
The words in those stories were vulgar and thick on his tongue and in his brain. They tasted dumb and sour, impersonal- "dick", "cunt", and "ass". Ugh.
(-there was only one acception to that list; "Fuck". For some reason he liked that one, the soft phoenetic ph leading into the guttural groan of "uh" before cutting of with a sharp, biting -ck, and the way it could be elongated into a tortured moan or snapped off in a pleasured chant never failed to send heated shudders down his spine. Of course it eventually became Raphael's favourite curse...but that was a story for another day.)
And then, plumbing the depths of the werewolf smut infested Literotica site, he found it- a story named Avitus' Reckoning. It was set in ancient Rome, about a lowly, bookish mathematician and his sexual adventures. The language was complex and incredible and the sex scenes were so well defined and described they left him writhing and panting under his bed at night, rutting himself against the rough stone floor in the dark while the words danced a filthy cadence in and around his brain.
So long...so delectable...the story used every educational, sensual term for all things carnal and deviant.
He was halfway through before he realized that Avitus' lover Brutus was male. (-and also held a strong personality resemblance to a certain red masked turtle. But again, another day.)
The minute the picture popped into his head- of Brutus fucking a helpless Avitus into the wall of his villa and atop his scattered desk- Donatello consequently came harder than he'd ever come in his life. He quickly figured that he was gay, but being who he was, it didn't bother him in the slightest.
Until.
Until that one night when the sky was on fire, and the Foot and the Dragons were running rampant in the streets. Until, after weeks of rumors and glanced sightings, they finally met him. Leonardo.
Shredder's adopted mutant turtle son, and Karai's younger brother. His appearance was a shock to them all, his background was a mystery, his fighting skills were astonishing, and his personality was infuriating.
And yes, he was very attractive. But his voice, and the way he could use it...
Donatello first realized it when they fought face to face, and Leonardo had gotten the upper hand for a moment. He couldn't resist gloating a bit.
"How utterly unfortunate, Donatello."
His tone was a purr, stroking and provocative the way he picked out and carresed every hidden syllable and inflection in Donnie's name. He rolled over the T's and made the Un's almost a moan. The words weren't particularly big or impressive, but the way he said them sent a spike of heat straight to Donnie's groin even though the pain radiating through his head.
Hours later, even a late night re-reading of Avitus' encounter with the satyrs wouldn't calm his arousal down so he could sleep. He kept hearing Leonardo speaking in that deep, smooth voice, taunting him, forming the words and wrapping him up in them.
He grew harder and harder before finally breaking down and bringing himself to a bone rattling climax to the memory of the enemy turtle's lips and the fantasy of them pressed moistly into his skin, whispering debauchery to him while he fucked him steadily deeper on his desk, swallowing Donnie's gasps and screams and turning them against him in slick, wonderful words that made him want to do, obey, submit, twisting his cock around his lips like he did his name...
It got to the point where every erotica story he read would sound like Leonardo, and he would be too painfully hard to make it more than a few pages before his sheets were soaked in precome and he was grabbing frantically at his hard member, cross eyed with desperation until he painted his stomach with white, sticky guilt.
They continued to clash with Leonardo, and every night without fail Donnie would come to the imagined sounds and sight of his mouth, and the sinful things it could and would do to him. He stored every word, every curse and sentence in his memory, fuel for his desire.
Donatello hated him for it, truly and completely. It was hard to avoid staring at his lips when they bantered, and the worst part was, he was pretty positive Leonardo KNEW.
Why else would he have done it? Why else, when Donnie delivered a strike to his leg with his staff (a glancing blow, really, hardly even worth mentioning) did he look up, straight into his face, and say that ONE word?
"Nngn...Fuck."
The pained groan was exaggerated, mocking, but the WORD...
Donatello had frozen, shivering immediately, saliva welling in the back of his throat. He watched the word leave his mouth in slow motion, almost felt it hit him like a physical blow, and then the bastard REPEATED it, this time in Japanese.
"Sore o kizutsukemasu..." he breathed, pulling the words through his teeth like taffy. Donatello almost dropped to his knees, holding back a meek whimper.
Leonardo had smiled, and that smile burned itself into Donatello's retinas and remained there while he jerked off to it for the third time that night, cursing Shredder, Leonardo and Merriam Webster in every language he knew.
"Sore o kizutsukemasu": Fuck. That hurt.
(PLEASE Review! I beg of you! I have an idea for Mikey's kink, but what do all of YOU think? Leave a suggestion, or vote in the new poll on my profile!)