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part 10

Leonardo's mastery of everything ninjitsu was a difficult act to follow, no matter how hard Raphael tried.

For every major stride Raph made in his ninjitsu training, Leo seemed to make three. Watching their Father heap praise upon the oldest left a bad taste in Raph's mouth. He knew he shouldn't begrudge Leo his abilities, but the fact remained that his brother's perfection was very irksome to the red banded turtle.

Despite the arguing they did, which seemed to have increased since they became teenagers, Raph felt very close to Leo. The one thing that Leo provided was stability and Raphael needed that; he needed to have someone who was predictable and structured.

Because Raph himself was not. His own inner turmoil seemed to increase with age, rather than slow down as he became more mature. As angry as he became at times with his oldest brother, Raph knew that 'Splinter Junior' provided a necessary constancy in his life.

Raphael's interactions with his youngest brother had changed in the last couple of years. Michelangelo wasn't nearly as clinging as he had once been, his own ninjitsu training and incredible physical prowess giving him a sort of smug assurance.

The two brightly banded brothers spent the most time together in sparring. Whether Raph was in the mood or not, Mikey could somehow always egg him into it. And eight out of ten times, Mikey won. As much as he disliked being beaten, Raph had to admit that Mikey was simply too difficult to catch.

Of course, when he did get his hands on the little sneak, Raph pummeled him enough to leave bruises. They were Raph's way of reminding Mikey just which one of them was the strongest.

Raph could never stay angry with Mikey though, no matter how much his little brother goaded him. As soon as Mikey flashed one of his disarming smiles in Raphael's direction, the hot head forgave him whatever transgression had started him off on a quick burn in the first place.

Such was not true in his interactions with Leo. Mikey's infractions were mostly harmless fun, but Raph's arguments with Leo were deeper and more philosophical. That Leonardo was basically mimicking their Father's belief system only frustrated Raph more.

So whenever he got really angry with his older brother, Raph tended to hang onto that anger for quite a while. Since physical fights with Leo, though not unheard of, were met with the strictest punishments in Master Splinter's arsenal, Raphael had to find other outlets for his frustration.

Most of the time that involved escaping the confines of the lair, with or without permission. Of the four boys, Raphael was the one who spent the greatest number of hours either running through the sewers, or standing near sewer grates watching the humans interact.

Because of that, his accent and his view of life gradually became quite different from his brothers. He was also the first to fully embrace his sexuality; watching the darkened alleys at night gave him a firsthand view of exactly what men and women did when they were alone.

As much as he had learned from Donatello's lesson on his changing voice and the functions of his body, particularly his sex organs, Raph still had one major question that hadn't been answered.

He had broached the subject to his Father many years previously, when Mikey had insisted they 'play married', but his Father hadn't answered it to his satisfaction. So one evening, after spending a couple of hours watching the street hookers seduce men into alleys and seedy hotels, Raph decided to bring up the topic once more.

Only instead of going to his Father, Raphael approached the one person in his family who would know that answer and give it to him without beating around the bush. He went to Donatello.

It was late when Raph wandered back into the lair. The light near the entrance had been left on, an indication that Master Splinter knew he wouldn't come home until past his curfew and would speak to his son about the disobedience in the morning. Raph wasn't purposely trying to break the rules; it just seemed his feelings needed to be the thing directing his actions, not his sensei.

Raphael was not surprised to see that the light in Don's lab was still on as well. Donatello always had numerous projects he was simultaneously working on, and time was something he tended to pay little attention to.

Strolling over to his door, Raph tapped and leaned into the lab. Don was standing next to his worktable, carefully pulling a needle and thread through an extremely beat up stuffed animal.

"What are ya' doin' bro'?" Raph asked; his brow furrowing in puzzlement.

Don tugged on the thread and then looked over at Raphael.

"I'm practicing my stitching technique," he told his brother. "I know I only had to take a couple of them in Mikey's toe the other day, but I think I could be quicker and not nearly as sloppy if I practice. Why were you out so late?"

Raph came further into the room and shrugged. "Leo pissed me off, and I didn't wanna look at his face across the dinner table."

"He 'pissed you off'?" Don repeated. "You'd better not let Master Splinter hear your newly acquired language skills."

"Yeah, well I'm already gonna get punished for stayin' out this late, so I might as well go for broke," Raph said with a chuckle.

"You're in a fatalistic mood tonight," Don murmured, returning to his stitching.

Raph walked over and leaned a hip against the worktable, his eyes fixed on Don's hands. All of them had taken lessons from Don on how to sew stitches, but Don's fingers were by far the most nimble.

"If that means I don't give a crap, then yeah, I guess I am," Raph said.

"That must have been some fight," Don observed lightly.

Raph grinned. He liked talking to Don, his smart brother had a way of asking questions without really prying, and leaving the options open on whether Raph wanted to discuss it or not.

"It's that same old shit he pulls when he's like 'my way is the only way'." Raph snorted. "Let him go topside some time into the real world and see how well that works. Up there ya' attack first or they eat ya'."

"Mmm," Don hummed noncommittally. He had completed a row of stitches, and had begun a new one, using a different method from the first. "Is that what you spend your time doing, observing how humans behave?"

"Sorta." Raph scratched his cheek.

This was the perfect entry into the subject he wanted to talk about, but he took a moment to think about what he was going to say. He was pretty sure that his brothers all knew about his stash of porn, although no one had dared bring it up to him.

For his part, Raph tried to be careful about when and where he took care of the business that looking at his porn brought up, and he did mean up. A slanted little smirk stretched his upper lip; one thing he had bragging rights to was the fact that his dick was bigger than any of his brothers.

"So I got a question for ya' brainiac," Raph began, using his new pet name for his brother.

Don nodded, maintaining his concentration on his stitching. This was good practice for him, operating while someone was talking was basic battlefield conditions.

"Go ahead and ask, I'll see if I can come up with an answer," Don said.

"What are we supposed ta do about sex if there ain't any female turtles," Raph asked bluntly.

"Ow!" Don yelped, stabbing his finger with the needle.

Raph had to laugh as Don lifted the finger to his mouth to staunch the flow of blood.

"What the shell?" Don blurted, slightly flabbergasted at the question.

"Sex Donatello. Ya' do know what that is, don't ya'?" Raph asked, still wearing a smug smile at having gotten a reaction out of the mellow turtle.

"Yes wise guy, I know what sex is," Don answered, inspecting his finger. "First of all, I should address the 'if' in your question. The odds of female red eared slider turtles mutating in the same ooze that produced us is astronomically infinitesimal."

"Pardon me for not phrasing the question correctly, smart ass," Raph said. "So talk ta me about sex, and don't give me any shit about how our minds must transcend our body's needs. That's the kind of crap I expect ta hear from Leo."

Don's mind flashed back to nearly two years ago, when he'd taught Mikey how to masturbate. He was pretty sure Raph didn't need any assistance in that department.

"I don't suppose your own hand is a good enough answer," Don ventured.

"I'm happy ta find out ya' know about that kind of stuff, Donatello," Raph told him, chuckling. "Is that your solution? I'm supposed ta spend eternity satisfied by masturbating?"

"What else do you want me to say?" Don asked. "Even for humans there aren't any guarantees. Just because there are no females of our species doesn't mean we're doomed to be alone. Human women come in all different types; someday maybe you'll meet one who has a thing for mutated turtles."

"I ain't gonna hold my breath," Raph muttered.

"Did you wander in here at this time of night expecting me to have some sort of magical answer?" Don asked him. "We're fifteen, Raph. The world isn't going to end tomorrow and things have a way of working themselves out."

"Yeah," Raph heaved a big sigh, his gold eyes darkening just a little.

The evening he'd just spent watching hookers wrap their legs around their latest paying customer and listening to the moans and grunts that followed had left him half hard under his shell. He should have taken care of the problem before coming home, but the need to talk to his brother was stronger than the other need.

He contemplated Donny from under lowered eye ridges. His brother had resumed his task of stitching the stuffed animal, apparently oblivious of Raph's perusal.

Raph really wished he could understand why being with Don had seemed to be such an overwhelming imperative when he was so damned horny. Now he would have to spend a sleepless and unsatisfied night, or attempt to jerk off silently underneath his blankets.

The look in Raph's eyes did not go unnoticed by the intelligent turtle. Don's pulse quickened just a little as he pretended to ignore the fact that Raph was staring at him. If the subject of their conversation hadn't been a dead giveaway to Raph's thoughts, the very masculine scent that was coming off of the red banded turtle surely was.

After about ten minutes, Raph took a deep breath and said, "I'm gonna get some sleep."

Don looked up quickly, letting that deep, burnished gold burn him with its intensity.

"Yeah, me too in a little bit. 'Night Raph," he said, striving to sound normal.

Raph strolled out of the room and over to his bed. Sitting on the edge, he stripped off his gear as quietly as he could so he wouldn't disturb Mikey. A little smile curved his lips as he looked down at his younger brother, Mikey's face roguish even in his sleep.

For some reason, the word 'wife' came to his mind, and he chuckled lightly. After his talk with Don, it appeared that Michelangelo was going to be the only one to ever wear that title.

Lying back on his bed, Raph pulled the blankets up, and then as an afterthought, tossed a spare pillow across his lap. It was too warm for either, but the business he needed to take care of probably wasn't going to take all that long in the condition he was in. He just wanted to make sure his movements weren't too obvious in case someone woke up.

Closing his eyes, he let his hand wander down his plastron as his mind played back that evening's viewing pleasures.

Mikey heard a low grunt from the bed next to him and opened one of his eyes slowly. He had watched for Raph to come home, unable to sleep until he knew that his red banded brother was safe.

When Raph went into Don's lab, Mikey had tried really hard to hear what they were saying. He was pretty sure he picked up the word 'sex' in their conversation and it had been difficult to stay in his bed after that.

Don wasn't the only intelligent turtle in the lair, and he didn't hold the market on understanding things either. Mikey understood quite well what those looks Donny shot at Raph meant, even if Raph was totally oblivious.

Mikey's eyes both opened when he saw that Raph had his firmly closed. Following the line of Raph's body downwards, Mikey could see the convulsive movements beneath the blanket and he knew what Raph was doing.

"Good," Mikey thought, transfixed by the jumping blanket. "At least he isn't going to Don for help with that."

Burrowing further into his own covers, Mikey cupped a hand over the bulge in his plastron as he watched and listened to Raph. If he was any judge, it wasn't going to take long for Raph to finish himself off; then he'd fall asleep.

If it weren't for Donatello just in the other room, Mikey might have crawled over to Raph's bed and offered him an alternative to playing a lone hand. One that would be mutually satisfying to both of them.

Mikey would just have to keep that idea in reserve. Donatello wouldn't always be the last one awake at night, and Raphael would surely go to bed needy again. Mikey was an opportunist if nothing else; his chance would roll around.

The thought that his idea was completely inappropriate between brothers never entered Mikey's mind.

TBC…