Drabble: Beneath My Mask

by KC

Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles.

Pairing: Raphael/Leonardo

I'm faster with a more exact technique. He's stronger. In practice, my shuriken always hit dead center of their targets. His shuriken always hit after mine and off-center, but they sink in deeper, a little clumsy but so effective. Now that I no longer fight, he holds me and bends me however he wants. I seem to fit into his grip and he takes every advantage.

He scares me. Me, who's never been afraid of anything before. At least not like this. I've disciplined myself to keep a hold of my feelings, to never let myself lose control. I've trained for years to keep myself focused, impassive even to my reflection. Somehow he breaks that control with a touch, a glance. It's hard enough to keep composed when I'm surrounded by family or enemies. It's impossible when we're alone.

If he hesitated or tried to be gentle, I could stop this. An ounce of regret in his eyes and I could push him away, tell him never again, and pretend none of this ever happened. But he never hesitates. He holds me with a demanding strength that says he can do whatever he likes. He looks at me with every confidence that he can make me do whatever he wants.

He hasn't told anyone. He doesn't stop looking but he never tries to touch me when anyone else is around. That's all that keeps me sane. I think he knows it. If anyone knew, I would break and I don't think I could put myself back together. So he keeps me teetering on the knife's edge of his pleasure, never allowed to fall and never allowed to escape.

He holds my wrists and yanks me up against his body, holding me still as he bites my throat. It hurts, but he never breaks skin and never leaves a mark. As he licks it to soothe the pain, I can't stop myself from shuddering. He doesn't laugh. It's his cue to let go of one hand, which I won't raise against him, and to grab the back of my neck.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I won't hurt you."

His grip tightens until I wince. As he manhandles me to the ground, I find a blank spot on the wall to stare at, never looking away as he holds me down. Pinning my hands to the floor, he stares at me with his face only inches away. His breath burns my face. I believe him.

Because he's the only person who's ever looked beneath my mask.