Author's Notes: Nope, I did not miraculously acquire rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in between this installment and the last.

Thanks to everyone for giving such positive and encouraging reviews! You definitely made me less timid about posting this ficlet. That being said…

Warning on Content: This is definitely the installment that upholds the M rating, so be aware that the following contains somewhat explicit (but not excessive) sexual content meant for mature readers.

Interludes
By KameTerra

Two

He'd never imagined it would be like this.

Oh, he'd fantasized about it, of course... endlessly. But still it hadn't come close to the reality. And not just the physical sensations, either. Those, at least, he was somewhat prepared for, though they far surpassed anything he'd experienced on his own.

Nor was it the intimacy, exactly. He had known from TV and movies that it could be more than just a physical pleasure, that the emotions tied in with it made it more satisfying, more powerful. And with April, that was definitely true.

But that was as much as he'd known about sex from the sources he'd come into contact with.

Nothing could have prepared him for this.

He watched her eyes intently as he wove his fingers through the fine hair at the nape of her neck, never tiring of the of feel of sleek strands gliding through his fingers. Propped up on one elbow, he held the brunt of his weight off of her, feeling as though he might crush her if he didn't. She said it didn't bother her, that he didn't feel as heavy as he thought, but he couldn't help it—she was a framework of slender bones filled in with soft curves and draped in pale silk, while he was all plated armor and abrupt edges and leathery skin. It was miraculous to him that humans even survived as well as they did from day to day; everything about them just seemed so exposed, so fragile.

His large hand slid slowly from her nape down alongside her neck, his fingers passing over the knobs of vertebrae, his thumb following the ridge of her collar bone to her shoulder, touching lightly, almost reverently—like her body was priceless art that he couldn't believe he was allowed to touch. He continued tracing the contours of her body all the way down to her waist, skimming the back of his knuckles over the grooves of her lower ribs before gently holding her near the hipbone.

Her eyes, clear and luminous, remained on his face, and her hands tightened on him slightly in anticipation. She closed her eyes and gasped when he moved deeper inside of her, her head pressing back into the bed. Unable to resist, he lowered himself to lip at her exposed throat. When he didn't move again right away, she nuzzled his face and kissed him lingeringly. He waited until he felt her relax slightly around him before moving again, and was rewarded with another gasp even as she linked one ankle around his lower leg and strained to meet him, trying to pull him ever deeper.

He thought he might one day go too deep, and he would lose himself within her.

Maybe he already had.

Her breathing was becoming shallow and her fingers were beginning to press, claw-like, into the muscle of his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and resisted the impulse to speed up. Sometimes he liked to go excruciatingly slow for as long as he could stand, making her writhe with need for him—but it wasn't just because he enjoyed seeing the obvious effect it had on her. It was also because, in moments like these, he could read everything in her emerald eyes so clearly… and he still couldn't quite believe what he saw in them. There was desire, of course—that in itself was incredible. And affection... possibly even love. He didn't know for sure. But what amazed him most, what made his breath catch and his throat prickle every time, was the trust he saw. Absolute, unwavering trust.

Trust in him.

Raphael knew something about trust. He had trusted others with his life before, and all of his brothers had trusted theirs with him at various times. It was nothing exceptional—they were family and they depended on one another. But this was different, somehow. April's life was not in danger at the moment, yet she was willingly surrendering everything to him—clasping him, holding him with her eyes and her hands and her legs wrapped tightly about him—inviting him, encouraging him to invade her very body, her very soul for all he knew. Trusting that he wouldn't abuse the power she knowingly handed him.

And while Raphael prided himself on his courage in battle, he recognized in April courage of a different nature—the courage to allow herself to just be vulnerable, even knowing the risks.

Deep down, Raphael doubted whether he could ever be that brave. And that was why, when he looked in her eyes as they moved together, he knew that she was stronger than he could ever hope to be.

Nothing could have prepared him for that.