They made love long into the night, so long that April lost track of time. They made love as if the world outside the bedroom had simply faded away, and there was nothing but the two of them entwined together, embracing in a halo of candlelight.

Sometimes it was soft and sweet, all brushed caresses and whispers of each other's names in breathless voices. Sometimes it was slow and intense, with building, mounting swells of pleasure welling up inside their bodies. Sometimes it was achingly quiet and intimate, their ragged breath the only sound to be heard. And occasionally it was fierce, almost frenzied, with heat coursing through them like electricity crackling through their blood.

Every cry of pleasure, every gasp and moan made April's heart swell, and she held Don even tighter as their bodies moved together. She loved the sound of him as they made love — she loved the fact that she could make him cry out in a way that nothing else could.

And as they had made love, she had seen his expression — his eyes. That look of haunting sadness had melted away, leaving only a luminous joy in its place, a joy that grew brighter and more beautiful with every moan, whisper and touch. Ecstasy. Euphoria.

The sight of it took her breath away, even as it caused an ache to form in her heart. This was what Don had been hiding from her for so long — this radiance, this exquisite light that shone from him whenever she touched him. He had been so afraid that she would reject his feelings — reject him — that he had tucked his love away in a corner of his soul, never intending to tell her. Now she had accepted him in every way, with both her heart and her body, and he was looking at her with such exquisite happiness that she regretted not giving him that joy earlier.

When April finally collapsed into Don's arms, spent and exhausted, he cradled her against his body, whispering her name over and over as if it were the only word he knew. His breath stirred her hair, washed over her face. She pressed her hands to his plastron, and curled her legs around his stockier ones, their thighs pressed against each other's. She could feel warm trickles of sweat on both their bodies, as she clung to him and he caressed her back, her throat, her face.

She felt worn to a thread, as if she had been running a marathon rather than in bed with a mutant turtle. She probably could have guessed that his stamina — like his strength and physical endurance — was greater than that of a human, because he didn't seem tired at all. Or perhaps it was just that he was seventeen. He probably could have continued for at least a few more hours, if April hadn't been so exhausted.

It was all right, she reminded herself. This night — this beautiful, passionate night — was the beginning of her time with Don, and the end of it wouldn't signal the end of them. They would have the next night, and the next, and countless nights after that to explore each other, love each other. They would find a way — some way — to be alone together.

Then she heard his voice, almost imperceptibly, whispering, "I love you."

April gasped a few more breaths before she whispered back, "That's — the first time — you said that to me…"

"It is?" Don said, looking at her in confusion.

April smiled. "You showed it, but you didn't say it. Tell me again."

His eyes almost glowed as he looked at her, and his face softened. "I love you," he said softly.

"Again… please…"

"I love you," Don whispered, burying his face in her hair. "I love you so much that it — it hurts. I can't describe it — I can't explain it."

"You don't have to," April said softly. "Don't try. It's enough that I know, Donnie."

She kissed him gently, nestling deeper into his arms, feeling the throbbing warmth inside her beginning to fade. She could already feel sleep inexorably tugging her down into darkness, but she couldn't let herself drift off without telling him drowsily, "I love you too — more than I ever thought I could —" The last thing she felt was his head resting beside hers, and his thick fingers caressing her face.

When she woke, she was alone in the bed, wrapped in her comforter. Even without looking, she could tell that no one was lying beside her. Her arm was flung out across the empty space beside her, which was cool to the touch, as if no one had lain there on that particular night.

She bit her lip, and it flashed through her mind that the previous night with Don had just been another of her erotic dreams about him — an unusually vivid and long dream, but a dream nonetheless. Her heart clenched at the idea that he hadn't been there after all, and she felt her skin tingle where she had felt his touch.

She sat up slowly in the dark, brushing a few locks of hair from her eyes. Then she saw him, a shadowy figure standing in a pool of moonlight by the window, his hands resting on the sill, his face upturned towards the sky. Her heart lurched, and for a moment she wondered if he had been seen by someone down in the street below.

He seemed lost in his own thoughts, and didn't even seem to hear the rustle of blankets and sheets as April sat up in bed. "Donnie?" she called out softly.

He looked back, and a soft smile crossed his face.

"Come back to bed," April said, patting the space beside her.

A moment later, he was sliding into bed beside her, and she gratefully took her place in his arms again. He smelled of musk and night air, and she buried her face against his shoulder for a moment. There was something comforting about being held by him — the feeling of strength surrounding her, enfolding her. His hands were calloused from countless hours of wielding his bo and handling his tools, and the slight roughness of his skin was a pleasant reminder of who was touching her.

Then she looked up into his face, and saw that he was looking at her with the same awe he had shown when he saw her naked for the first time. Their eyes met, and he smiled softly.

"I never thought this would happen to me," he said quietly.

"With me, you mean?"

"Ever. With anyone," Don said, stroking her loose hair. "When I was thirteen, Master Splinter explained sexuality to us, just so we would understand the feelings we were starting to have. He also told us… he said that we would probably never experience it ourselves, because we were so different from humans. That at best, humans wouldn't find us attractive. Even worse, they might be… repelled by us."

April closed her eyes and hugged him tighter. She knew that Splinter was a good father, and was simply trying to prepare his sons for the hurdles they would encounter in life. He was being a realist, knowing that the Turtles wouldn't be accepted by most humans — they were seen as freaks or monsters by too many. But she hated to think of them hearing, at such a tender, impressionable age, that they would probably never find anyone who could love them for their hearts rather than their bodies.

"So I never thought," Don said softly, "that anyone would ever make love to me — that anyone would be willing to, let alone want to."

"Is that," April said quietly, "why you looked so sad after we mated in the cell?"

"I couldn't stop thinking of how repulsed you must be by my body, by having a mutant inside you, and by the things Racer was making you do. I didn't want you to feel that way about me."

"I never would," April said fiercely. Her fingers traced the curving lines of his face, before locking behind his neck and pulling his head towards hers. "Don, even when I didn't love you yet — when I didn't realize how you felt about me — I was never repulsed by you. To me, everything you are — everything you have — is Don. Just Don."

He gazed at her with eyes that echoed of the joy she had seen when they had made love… and something else was there, a hint of sadness. It was only there for a second, but it was enough. April didn't know why it existed, or why Don would feel any sadness after what they had just experienced. It had been so pure, so luminous, bringing them closer than April had ever been with anyone before.

She pressed a hand to his face, her fingers stroking his smooth skin. "Don, what's wrong?" she whispered.

"I just — never want this night to end," he said quietly, pressing a hand to hers. "I want to be here like this — with you — for as long as possible. I don't want to be apart from you…"

"You won't be," April said softly, letting her lips cling to his face. "And we can make the night a little longer if you want." She suddenly wanted to drive that sadness from his eyes, to see him as he had been before. She wanted him to feel that transcendent joy again, no matter how tired she had been.

Slowly, so he could pull away if he wanted to, she pulled him into a kiss that grew more intense, more heated, with every passing second. He returned the kiss with the hesitant eagerness of someone still learning the proper technique, his fingers tangling in her red hair. Her fingers pulled at the edge of his shell, drawing him closer to her, before trickling down to caress his broad shoulders and his throat.

Then his breath caught as her legs slipped around his thighs, guiding him closer to her. "I love you, April," he whispered again.

April smiled. She could see that radiance in his eyes again, as Don lost himself in their entwined bodies. "And I love you," she whispered back.