Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Fic
Star-crossed continues to frustrate me. I think I'm close to being done, and the chapter goes and splits on me. *pulls fur* So, I'm taking a brief break from writing giant, alien robots, to tackle a different form of 'alien' in another childhood television love.
I used to love this pairing back with the original cartoon (and April/Raph from the first movie). I never felt anything between Casey/April, and first time I saw that in the 03 series threw me.
Title Birthday Surprises 1/3
Series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (07 movie/03 series blend, if that really matters)
Pairings Leo/April, past Casey/April
WARNING! Cross-species kissing, and this is probably the safest chapter in what will be three. (No giant robots involved? :P) I promise to provide brain bleach for the next (two?) chapter(s).
Summary April wanted Leonardo’s 18th birthday to be a night he’ll never forget. Nights, however, have this really bad habit of ending.
Author’s Note I might be taking some liberty with Leonardo’s canonical date of birth. I’m thinking Splinter could have used the Chinese New Year, for Leonardo as the first. Hence, middle of a New York Winter.
April had never meant to get so goddamned drunk. One drink had led to another, and another, and she hadn’t stopped until a green hand had covered her glass and asked the bartender for the bill.
She couldn’t quite coordinate her feet, clung to her companion a little more than she had meant to. He didn’t seem to mind, not that he ever did. He supported her with a hand on her elbow and an arm around her waist. For a cold-blooded reptile he sure was warm. Then again maybe the clothes he wore to hide his less-than-human features had something to do about that. She didn’t remember sitting down in the car or the drive back to her apartment. Only that her companion had opened her door and reached across her to unbuckle her seatbelt.
Unbalanced by his sudden proximity, she rested a hand on his bicep. She could feel the muscles beneath his leathery skin, even through the coarse material of the shirt he wore. “’m sorry, Leo,” she moaned.
He didn’t pause, but pulled the seatbelt away from her body and smoothly lifted her out. She caught a glimpse of his face, and thought she saw a smile. Not that she could really see straight right now.
Oh gawd, the world wouldn’t stop spinning.
He set her on her feet, and casually caught her when she staggered. “Don’t be. I’m glad you had a good time.”
It was too hot, even though they were in the middle of a New York winter. She pushed against his boney plastron to step away, but his arm tightened around her. “Careful.”
She shook her head, which might not have been such a good idea. The world spun around her even faster. “No, ‘m gonna…”
“Oh.” His grip relaxed, and one hand dropped to his side, but he didn't let her go. At least she could push away from his plastron now.
She swallowed convulsively, and reached for the side of her van. She wanted more space. The last thing she wanted to do was to… oh just thinking about it made it worse.
“Maybe we should get you inside,” Leonardo murmured solicitously, and gestured with his now free hand toward her apartment.
That one movement was all it took to trigger the explosion. April bent over and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the New York street where it mingled with the rest of the filth.
The body she leaned against stiffened, and a weak protest squeaked out of Leonardo’s throat. Three fingers combed through her hair, and pulled it out of her face.
She stood there retching for what seemed like forever, while Leonardo patiently supported her.
She finally finished, but didn’t move, as she gulped deep breaths of the cold night air. She closed her eyes, rather than stare at her puke on the ground. The toe-curling stink of vomit wafted up from the puddle, and god she was glad it was winter and not summer, or the smell would have been unbearable.
Leonardo pressed her head against the firm plastron beneath the woolen shirt. “Feel better?”
“I don’t wanna do that again,” she gasped.
He made a small sound of agreement. “Neither do I.”
That was when she remembered exactly where she was. She opened her eyes and cringed when she saw her vomit spattered against his pants, on his bare feet. Oh god, she was so embarrassed now. She turned her head to give the turtle a sheepish grin. “Happy birthday, Leo?”
That earned her a rare and wonderful laugh from the eldest of the ninja turtles. “Well, I’m not likely to forget this one, that’s for sure.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and helped her up the stairs to her apartment.
She swayed uncertainly, and clung to her friend as they took the steps one at a time. She thought she should find it strange that he didn’t use his normal route through the window. Then again, she couldn’t even walk straight, much less hold on while he climbed up. Not to mention that this late at night, it’d probably only be drunkards like her coming home, and they’d put seeing a six-foot tall turtle down to their inebriated state.
“You’ll let me know if you feel the need to spew again, won’t you?” Leonardo said into the silence.
“Urgh,” she groaned agreeably.
They stopped at the door to her apartment while she dug through her purse for her keys. She still couldn’t see straight, much less look through her damned junky purse. She thrust the offending baggage at Leonardo. “Here, you find my keys.”
Leonardo actually hesitated before he pushed her hand away. “I was using your keys, remember?”
She stared blankly at the hand he held out, and the keys settled in the relatively small palm. “Oh.” She took a deep breath and shot him an unsteady grin. “Knew I kept you around for a reason.”
“Will you be okay from here?” A twinge of uncertainty crept into the normally sure turtle’s voice.
She waved off his concern. “No problem. You’ve done too much.” She hoped she was making sense, she didn’t know if she was slurring or not anymore.
The hands that held her shoulders dropped down to allow her to stagger away.
“Would you wanna come in?”
Leonardo visibly hesitated again. “I really shouldn’t.”
April turned away from him, and staredaround her apartment like she’d never seen it before. She realized that her throat was dry, and she wanted a drink. And a shower. Ugh. She stank. She pushed away from the doorjamb, determined to get a glass of water.
The floor tilted underneath her feet, and she could not find a place that would stay still long enough to take a step.
Strong arms caught her up, and pulled her up against a firm chest. “But I guess I am, anyways.”
Well, since he was going to stay, anyway. “I want a drink of water,” she declared.
Another of his soft laughs. “Your wish is my command. Here, why don’t you sit down for a moment.”
A couch suddenly pressed against the back of her knees and she plopped helplessly down. The green hands carefully situated her into the comfortable corner of the couch and then disappeared. They reappeared with a glass of water, which she clumsily took.
“You gonna need help getting that down?”
She paused with the glass touching her lips and did her level best to glare at the turtle.
She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but she would swear that the corner of his lip twitched.
Leonardo presented an imposing image: standing in the middle of her living room, arms akimbo, eyes narrowed, and the hilts to his katana blades sticking up over his back.
Waitaminute.
She pointed an accusing finger at him. “When did you put those on?”
He blinked, and one of his hands traveled up to touch the rounded hilt of one of his swords. “After you got in the van. I felt naked without them.”
Naked? Giggle. “Leo, you are naked without them.” With that she tipped her glass back. Water sloshed over as well as into her mouth and dribbled down her shirt.
His head rolled back and he reached out to take the glass from her, and set it on the end table to her right. “All right, I think it’s bedtime for April.” He pulled her up into his arms, having apparently decided to completely forego letting her walk.
“No.”
He paused in the midst of working his way around her coffee table and glanced down at her. “No?”
“I need a shower.” When his expression turned dubious, she thrust one finger into the air and stated, “I stink.”
He took a deep breath, like he was going to argue, but seemed to think better of it. She could almost see him reason out another approach. “You can barely stand on your own two feet. What makes you think you’ll be coordinated enough to take a shower?”
She grinned up at him. “Because you’ll be helping me.”
His hands tightened on her side and her thighs and his breathing hitched for a moment. He shot her a surprised look. “That’s not really appropriate.”
“Who cares!”
“You’re family,” he continued in that not-very-Leo-like uncertain voice of his.
“Fuck family. You guys help each other in the shower, I know you do! I stink.” She patted at her abnormally stiff hair. “And I don’t think I completely missed my hair.
“No, I didn’t get it in time. Sorry.” He stood there for several long moments, taking deep controlled breaths.
When it didn’t seem like he would move at all, she curled her arm against his plastron and rested her head on his shoulder. She opened her eyes wide in her best Mikey imitation. “Pleeeeease?”
He sighed in defeat. “Fine.” Then he turned and headed for the bathroom.
His feet slapped on the tile floor and he carried her over to stand her against the wall. “Here, see if you can start getting undressed. I’ll grab some towels.”
She slapped both palms against the cool tile to steady herself and called after him before the door closed, “Could you grab my bathrobe from the closet in my room, too, please?”
He didn’t respond, even though he paused just beyond the door. He’d probably nodded, that would be such a Leo thing to do.
While he was gone, she decided that she could go ahead and attempt to get her clothes off. Hopefully she didn’t wind up on her ass when she did. Her pants were the easiest: simply unsnap them, pull down the zipper, a little bit of wiggling and they dropped to the floor where she could kick them away (and almost land on her butt in the process). She unzipped her coat and worked one arm out at a time, before tossing it to the side with the pants. It landed in the sink. She’d worry about that later. Her shirt proved to be the most difficult obstacle, she couldn't stand straight without the support of the wall, but she needed both hands to pull the shirt over her head.
The bathroom door opened, and Leonardo walked in with a handful of towels and her fluffy bathrobe folded on top of them. He paused at the threshold to take another deep breath, his eyes locked on her bare legs. He cleared his throat, and moved forward to place the towels and bathrobe on the counter of the sink. “Let me give you a hand with that.”
Did his voice just crack?
She hung onto the wall while he worked her shirt up and slid her arms out one at a time. The course material of his woolen shirt had been replaced by his leathery skin and the cold bone of his plastron. She glanced back, only then did she notice he had indeed completely undressed himself. Except the katana that peeked out over the curve of his shoulders.
“Don’t you ever take those off?” April heard herself ask.
The hands paused in the midst of pulling her shirt over her head. Ewww, she had vomit on her face now, and she could smell it. Ugh.
“I had them off earlier, remember?” he finally replied, and tugged her shirt completely off. She could hear the shirt land with the rest of her clothing, and Leonardo hesitated again. Before she could wonder at his pause, he moved with ninja-like speed (ha!) and her bra came undone to hang only by the straps around her arms. Leonardo stepped back with another of his deep breaths. “Think you can do the rest?”
April had to consider that before she dropped on arm and worked herself out of the straps. She thought she heard another hitch in Leonardo’s breathing, but she needed to concentrate on shucking her panties to pay much attention to him. She wobbled in a moment of vertigo, and reached for the tub.
Calloused hands circled around her waist, as Leonardo guided her under the showerhead. He reached up to close the curtains, and shut him out of her sight. She stood there for a long moment staring at the knobs for the water, but she couldn’t remember which one was which.
“Uh, April?” Again that hesitation entered the turtle’s voice. “Did you need anything else?”
If she couldn’t even differentiate between the two knobs, then there was no way that she’d be able to do this on her own.. She flicked the shower curtain to one side so that her face peeked out at him. “Your butt, in here, now.”
Leonardo’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s highly inappropriate.”
She hung off the curtain so that she could wag an unsteady finger at him. “You. Are a. Prude. So shut up.” Her ‘up’ popped from her lips quite unintentionally, but it seemed to have the desired effect.
With another heavy sigh, he caught hold of the curtain and shoved it to the side. He took April’s crutch with it.
She didn’t even have time to squeak before she tumbled to the bottom of the tub. Her head cracked against the wall, and her arms slapped around the offended area. “Shit!”
Leonardo was in the tub, bent over her, hands on her shoulders, then on her own hands, prying her arms away from her head. “Let me look, April,” he snapped when she tried to lock her arms in place.
She obeyed automatically; her hands dropped down to her sides as she waited for the world to stop its endless spin. “Am I going to die?” slipped out of her mouth without her bidding.
Leonardo paused in his inspection, and she would swear that he was laughing at her. “I think you’ll live to see another day.”
He took hold of her shoulders and hefted her to her feet.
She stumbled forward and collided with his plastron, and decided that would be a good place to spend the next few minutes until the world stopped revolving.
The calloused hand reappeared on her back to encircle her shoulders and hold her close to the turtle’s slightly cooler body. His cheek rested on the top of her head, and she’d been with the turtles long enough to identify the curve of his cheek as a smile. “You’re a mess.”
She jabbed her finger up once again, rather liking the way it emphasized her point. “Thus! Why I want a shower.”
His chuckle shook his plastron and broke the soft rhythmic thumps of his heart muffled beneath the bone.
No, not bone. April scraped her nails over the not-bone in drunken thoughtfulness. Started with a ‘k’ right? Kretanin? Kreepinoid? Keratin? Kakarrot? Karrots?
Leonardo disrupted her already disjointed thoughts by turning around to fiddle with something on the wall.
Water suddenly sprayed down on the both of them. April cursed loudly and did her best to burrow underneath the cold not-bone, where the warm beat of his heart lay.
Leonardo’s teeth clattered, and a shiver wracked his body and the sound of knobs turning became more frantic. It took a few moments, but the water finally warmed.
“S-sorry ‘bout that, April,” he said through still clattering teeth.
April pushed away from his chest. “Think I’m awake now.”
“Hm. Enough to handle this on your own?” He caught her when she staggered, and another sigh passed his lips. “Nevermind.”
She leaned her hand against his plastron again, but paused to contemplate the material her fingers encountered. What the hell? “You’re still wearing your swords?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “What the fuck do you think is going to get us in here?”
Leonardo didn’t look at her from his examination of the launderette items arranged on her shelf. “I must admit that the prospect being in the shower with a drunk woman who’s also training in ninjutsu can be a tad scary” He quirked an eyebrow in her direction, smirk on his face to show he was joking. His attention turned back to the shelf. “How do you…?”
She rolled her eyes (oh, hello dizziness) and jabbed her finger in the general direction of the necessary items. “Shampoo, then conditioner, then body wash.”
He reached for the first container, and looked it over as though he’d never really seen it before. (duh, April, no hair, remember?), then he handed it to her.
She stared at the bottle, wondering how the hell she’d be able to get this stuff on her head. Well, she could always just… She flipped the flap open and dumped a good portion of the bottle on her head. She could always buy some more.
Leonardo’s hands moved down to her waist, and he held her steady while she worked up a good lather and then ducked her head under the stream of water. Soap burned against her eyelids, but she kept them shut tight against the sudsy water that ran down her face. She’d grown accustomed to the world’s continuous motion, but it suddenly lurched when she tried to put the bottle back.
“Whoa,” Leonardo murmured, his hand on her arm and once again steadying her. “I’m still here.” His hand traveled up her forearm and took the bottle of shampoo from her hands. “How about you skip a step tonight?”
She clung to his plastron, and waited for the world to at least partially settle before she nodded. “Good idea. Body wash.”
His arms moved away from her, though he tensed as if ready to catch her. “Does this… go on something?”
She turned and her eyes crossed at the bottle shoved in her face. She squinted and finally recognized her bodywash. “There’s a pouf hanging from the shower head. Squeeze it on that.”
“Poof? Oh.”
The constant stream of hot water had warmed Leonardo’s body up considerably. God, she could go to sleep right here. She lay her head against his plastron, eyes slipping close of their own accord.
“Um… April? Still not done here.”
She groaned but cracked an eye open and snatched the sudsy pouf out of the green hand. She looked down to start rubbing it over her body, but had to close her eyes against another wave of vertigo. Her hand dropped to her side, and the pouf dangled from her fingers. When it had passed she looked up at Leonardo with a pleading grin. “Think you could give a girl a hand here.”
Something flashed through his eyes, something she didn’t normally see in this particular turtle. Panic?
“I can barely stand up straight, much less wash myself. And I stink, so don’t,” and she jabbed unsteadily at his shoulder, “try to suggest I skip this, too.”
She thought she heard him mutter some curse under his breath, or something along the lines of ‘you’ve got to be kidding’. It didn’t sound like a very Leonardo thing to say, and she decided that she was only hearing things.
Cue deep breath number 536, before he took the pouf from her. She braced her arms against the wall to cradle her still aching head while he tentatively touched the soapy pouf to her shoulder. His normally graceful motions became awkward and jerky, like…
April glanced over her shoulder. “It helps if you actually watch what you’re doing.”
The only thing she could compare his following expression to was ‘hand caught in the cookie jar.’ His mouth opened to object, only to release sigh number five hundred and uh… what number was she on, oh well, five hundred and eighty-two. But he paid attention to where he put the poof, even if he only gave light dabs on her butt and breasts.
“You must think we’re repulsive.” Again, words slipped out of her mouth before she could censor them. Damn, she needed to stop that.
His gaze lifted from the pouf that hovered over her stomach to stare at her in surprise. From this angle, with him slightly bent, she could see the water spattering over the curve of his shell, and wonder again how much he could feel through all that bone. Probably nothing at all.
“What?” he asked, as though he couldn’t believe his ears.
“Humans disgust you, don’t we?”
His mouth opened and he stared at her for a long moment. He finally shut his mouth with a snap and his brow furrowed. If she didn’t know any better, she might think she’d offended him. Wait, maybe she had.
“This would be much easier if you did,” he ground out through clenched teeth. Leonardo glared at her for another minute before he bent to his task again. He took another of those damned breaths, before continuing in an even voice. “It’s not like we have a basis for comparison on our own species, you know.” Then he straightened and squeezed out the pouf before adding another handful of body wash to the lacy material.
She watched him crouch down, and stroke the pouf up and down her bare legs for a few long minutes. He seemed reluctant to touch her. “Prove it.”
He didn’t even bother to look up this time. “Prove what?”
“Prove that you don’t think I’m revolting.”
His hands froze, and his face turned up to stare at her. His eyes narrowed, but whether in suspicion or because of the water pelting his face she couldn’t tell. “How would you want me to do that?”
“Kiss me.”
His face twisted, like he’d just swallowed some very nasty sewer water.
She couldn’t help it she laughed.
“Oh, haha. Very funny, April.” He slapped the pouf to her calf and dragged it roughly down her leg.
“No, seriously. Prove it.” She curled her fingers around the knot of his mask tugged indignantly. “Come on.”
The pouf dropped to the slippery floor of the bathtub and the giant green turtle rose.
April’s throat closed on a squeak as she was reminded that for all their lack in height, the turtles could be very imposing figures. She couldn’t identify the expression that thundered on Leonardo’s face, but it made her blood run a little colder, and her heart beat a little faster. His eyes had narrowed to pinpoints, and yet seemed to take in the whole of her: her face, her body, her mind, her very soul. He pressed into her space without even touching her, without even leaning closer; like his aura had become tangible, and she suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was a naked woman in the presence of something that while not at all human, was still so very, clearly masculine.
She curled her hands over her chest, and watched the turtle with wide eyes. She had to remind herself, that this was Leonardo. Leonardo. And he would never hurt her.
Right?
He planted a hand on either side of her, just far enough apart that she could slide away, if she wished. Then Leonardo leaned forward and gave her a chaste peck on the lips.
Just like that he pulled away, until only his breath brushed her cheek. “There. Happy now?”
Her heart stuttered in her chest and her jaw dropped. “No,” croaked out of her throat. That damned alcohol talking again. “Doesn’t prove anything.” Goddammit, shut up!
The corners of Leonardo’s mouth tightened for only a second. He leaned forward again and pressed his lips against hers in a very-much-so not chaste kiss.
April did squeak this time, surprised that he went through with it, when he didn’t have the excuse of having drunk enough to put an elephant under.
He didn’t have lips. That was the first thing she noticed. At least, not lips like she knew them. And he couldn’t purse them the way a human could. He could move the upper part of his snout, however, and manipulate his bottom lip against hers deliciously. It was nothing like being kissed by another human: not Casey, not her first boyfriend, not her college sweetheart, not anyone she’d kissed before. She gasped against his mouth, eyes opened wide.
He watched her through the narrowed slits of his eyelids. Then his hands slid closer, dropped down to embrace her naked waist and pull her against him. He nuzzled her cheek, her ear, her neck; nipping gently at her skin.
Oh god. April’s pulse pounded in her ears, and she couldn’t find her breath.
Leonardo returned to her lips, his breath playing over them as he paused to meet her eyes.
She had no idea what to think. Her heart still raced in her chest, and she found her arms had somehow wrapped around Leonardo's neck. When had that happened?
She didn't protest when he crushed his mouth against hers again. Didn't shake off the hands(strange, three-fingers that always meant safety, and friendship) that began tentative explorations of her back and side.
Leonardo's mouth moved against hers, and his dry tongue touched her lips. He put one hand on either side of her waist and slid his fingers up. A soft moan escaped his throat as his fingertips brushed the soft flesh of her breasts.
She echoed the moan, her arms tightening around his neck.
He stopped, just like that. His entire body- even his breathing-froze, only the rapid beat of his heart gave any indication that he was more than a living statue. Then he took a deep breath and nuzzled her forehead. “You're awfully bossy when you're drunk, April.”
April opened her eyes to find him regarding her evenly. She broke out into an unrepentant grin. “So Casey's said, lots of times.”
He withdrew then, more in spirit than in physical proximity. His hands remained on her, though in far more modest places, to hold her steady. “What would he think if he heard about this?”
Thoughts of the vigilante soured her mood and she snorted in exasperation. “Casey can go suck Shredder's dick, for all I care. Jackass.”
Leonardo blanched. “There's an image for my nightmares.”
Her still inebriated mind slowly pieced together another puzzle that had occurred to her. “This has to be the worst birthday present ever, for you.”
He glanced down at her, one of his brows lifted in surprise.
“It's your birthday, but you're having to cart my drunk ass around town and around my apartment, and... and--” She waved her hand to indicate the shower and their current situation. She hung her head. “God, I'm so lame, Leo.”
“Oh,” he drawled, quite casually, “I don't know. The night’s had its perks that's for sure.”
She blinked at him in confusionabout what the hell he meant.
He pointedly glanced down at her still naked (and soapy, come to think of it) body.
“Oh, no.” A laugh escaped before she could stop it. “No way. Uh uh. You’re not telling me that you actually find this attractive.” She frantically waved her arms back and forth in front of her body. “No way! I'm human!” The world did another one of its spinning acts, but she didn't know if it was from the alcohol, or the revelation that the turtles-her friends-could possibly be interested (or, god forbid, have been interested all this time) in her like that. But she knew them, knew their expressions. She knew the look they gave her, one they shared with no other. “That’s a real bad joke, Leo.” She sure as hell wasn’t laughing.
She had thought it had just been because she was a woman. Not that.
Leonardo did step away then, and something flashed across his face, but he only gave her negligent shrug. “Well, what can you expect? We did grow up on human television.”
She stared at him, what could she possibly say to that. “Oh.” Yup, real smart there, April.
Leonardo sighed (again) and turned to step out. “I think you're sobered up enough to take care of this. I'll head back now.”
He shoved the curtain to the side and stepped out of the tub.
April had never rinsed so fast in her life. She didn't even bother to towel anything dry, but snatched up her bathrobe and staggered out of the bathroom while stuffing an arm through a sleeve. “Leo, wait!”
He hadn’t turned the lights on, but she could see him shadowed in the glow of the moon. Leonardo turned to look at her, poised to leap out of her window. He looked away just as quickly, turning to stare out at the New York night sky.
She didn’t close her bathrobe in time, clutched her bathrobe closer around her, but the cold night air bit right through the soft fleece like it wasn’t there.” Look, I'm sorry. I'm drunk, and I know that's a lousy excuse. I should have really known better.” She ignored his muttered ‘no kidding’. “I know you grew up watching TV and it really didn’t click with me that it might have actually altered what a turtle would view as attractive.” His expression didn’t change, and she slapped the heels of her palms against her forehead in frustration. “I’m just digging myself a deeper grave, aren’t I?”
He still didn’t say anything , but his angry gaze dropped to the streets.
“Please, don’t leave like this. That was stupid of me, and I’m sorry.”
To her great relief, Leonardo stepped away from the window to finally look at her. “What do you want from me?”
She shivered involuntarily as a breeze wafted through her apartment. “Closing the window would be a start. Preferably with you on this side.”
Another sigh puffed out of his mouth, but he obligingly turned and locked the window into place.
April slid up behind him, and she didn’t even try to fool herself that it was unnoticed. He stiffened even before she put her hands on the rough contours of his shell rim. She knew that she usually had sober reasons for having never considered anything like this with any of the turtles, but now with the moon shining down on Leonardo, and her mind still clouded with alcohol, those reasons fled her. Right then, she only knew the pain she’d seen in his eyes, and she just wanted to banish it. Their enemies hurt them enough physically without having to make them worry about emotional wounds from their friends. From her.
Rather than turn around at her tugs on his shell, Leonardo stepped out of her reach. Away from the window.
Okay, she could understand that. She wouldn’t let that bother her. He was just trying to stay out of sight, and be all ninja-y, right? God, she was starting to sound like Michelangelo. She needed to go to bed. But first…
His hands remained at his side, and still he said nothing. The moonlight glinted off his eyes tracking her through the apartment, the only sign that she had his attention at all. Her feet made no noise over the carpet, and her head spun with what she was about to do.
She curled her hands over his cheeks (did he flinch?) and pulled his face closer. “Even after knowing you guys for three years, you can still surprise me, you know?”
He steadied himself with a light touch on her shoulders, and a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Even after a lifetime around humans, you guys can still surprise us. So, yeah. I do know.”
“Well,” she murmured, as she stepped closer to him, “we both have a lot to learn.”
She closed her eyes and kissed him. She touched his jaw, his snout, trying to get a feel of his face in her hands, of her mouth melded over his, of his fingers on her shoulder. She stroked his cheeks, brushed the course material of his mask. She opened her eyes to find his eyes on her, his gaze calculating. His hands disappeared from her shoulders, and large fingers encircled her wrists and pulled her hands away from his face. He moved his head away, breaking their kiss.
“April, what are you doing?”
She twisted her hands out of his grip, but he didn’t fight too hard to keep hold of her. Her bathrobe tumbled from her shoulders, and she dropped her arms to let it fall the rest of the way. She didn’t pay attention to where it settled, but stepped closer to the turtle. “What does it look like?”
He glanced down, for only a brief moment, and panic flashed across his face again. “April…”
She kissed the end of his snout, the skin leathery under her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck, but she pulled one hand back to comb out the tails of his mask.
Another puff of air sighed from his chest. He ducked her lips, but pressed his face to her neck. His hands came up to caress her back, and he mouthed at her throat, and then moved on. He kissed her shoulder, her chest. She was certain he would have at least nipped her breasts, but his snout breezed right past them, only to touch her belly.
April’s head rolled back, and she placed her fingertips on the top of Leo’s head. She couldn’t quite catch her breath, her skin suddenly hypersensitive to his every touch. To the fingers that stroked down her buttocks. To the breath over her belly button. A whimper squeaked out of her throat, a soft plea for more.
His cheek rested against the lowest curve of her abdomen, his snout hovering so close to her most private parts. His breath washed over the small hairs of her groin. She wanted him to do something but sit there and breath on her. She wanted him to put his mouth on her, stick his tongue in her.
Goddamn him! Why was he just sitting there? “Leo!”
He jerked as though he’d just awakened from sleep. His palms slid down her thighs, and tickled the back of her knees. His breath swept down her legs, interrupted only by an occasional convulsive swallow. His hands disappeared from her legs, but she could hear his fingers skitter over the carpet. Was he looking for something?
Impatient with him, she drew swirls over his round head, slipping her fingers under his mask. She jerked them away when she accidentally poked him in the eye. He didn’t complain, outside of a soft ‘hey!’, and so she continued to wander her hand over his moonlit skin, over the knot of his bandana. She could feel him scrunch his brows, even if she couldn’t see his expression, she could hear him swallow, and the way it broke the rhythm of his breath on her skin.
He abruptly stood, his arms still around her. Cloth rushed up her back with his motion, only to settle around her shoulders. He shook his head. “No.”
She stared blankly at him, she didn’t know how to interpret that one word. “No?”
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed, expression guarded. “I’m not doing this.”
She frowned, though she knew what he meant. “Why?”
“Because you’re drunk.” It wasn’t an accusation, or a judgment, merely a statement of fact.
“So?”
He finally smiled, a patient smile like he gave Michelangelo, and pulled her robe close. “I’m not taking advantage of you like this.”
April’s mouth quirked to the side. “Like what?”
Leonardo heaved a sigh, and furrowed his brows. “You’re drunk.”
“So,” she immediately retorted, “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. You’re not taking advantage, Leo.”
He retreated a step, when she tried to approach him. “I don’t want to be something you’d regret.”
Her heart jumped at that, and once more words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them, “Raph would do it.”
Leonardo narrowed his eyes again. “Then, I’ll be glad that he’s not here, and I am.” His hand stroked down her arm, over the soft material of her robe and he gently pushed her toward her room. “You should go to bed.”
“You’re leaving?”
He smiled at that, though she couldn’t imagine why. “Well, yeah. It’s getting rather late.” He glanced down at her robe and looked away just as quickly. Then he turned and moved toward the window.
April reached out and grabbed his shell. “Don’t go.”
His shoulders dropped, but he didn’t look back at her. “Why?”
“Maybe we’re not done.”
That made him shoot her a half-suspicious, half-annoyed glare over his shell His eyes traveled down, but snapped up as immediately as the previous time. “Maybe I want you to know what you’re asking first,” he shot back.
April pressed her lips together, but didn’t let go of Leonardo’s shell. “Then wait until morning. Stay.”
She heard the bones of his hand creak, and she peeked over the curve of his shell, surprised to find his fingers curled into a fist.
She scratched the back of his shell, as she would have scratched the back of a man. He didn’t react; he couldn’t even feel it, she realized. So she touched the muscles of his arm, the padding over his elbow. Her hand trailed down the leathery texture of his skin, and slipped over his fist. “Stay,” she repeated.
He didn’t react, didn’t move for several minutes. She couldn’t even see his shoulders rise with his breath. Then Leonardo uncurled his fist and accepted her hand.
I used to love this pairing back with the original cartoon (and April/Raph from the first movie). I never felt anything between Casey/April, and first time I saw that in the 03 series threw me.
Title Birthday Surprises 1/3
Series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (07 movie/03 series blend, if that really matters)
Pairings Leo/April, past Casey/April
WARNING! Cross-species kissing, and this is probably the safest chapter in what will be three. (No giant robots involved? :P) I promise to provide brain bleach for the next (two?) chapter(s).
Summary April wanted Leonardo’s 18th birthday to be a night he’ll never forget. Nights, however, have this really bad habit of ending.
Author’s Note I might be taking some liberty with Leonardo’s canonical date of birth. I’m thinking Splinter could have used the Chinese New Year, for Leonardo as the first. Hence, middle of a New York Winter.
April had never meant to get so goddamned drunk. One drink had led to another, and another, and she hadn’t stopped until a green hand had covered her glass and asked the bartender for the bill.
She couldn’t quite coordinate her feet, clung to her companion a little more than she had meant to. He didn’t seem to mind, not that he ever did. He supported her with a hand on her elbow and an arm around her waist. For a cold-blooded reptile he sure was warm. Then again maybe the clothes he wore to hide his less-than-human features had something to do about that. She didn’t remember sitting down in the car or the drive back to her apartment. Only that her companion had opened her door and reached across her to unbuckle her seatbelt.
Unbalanced by his sudden proximity, she rested a hand on his bicep. She could feel the muscles beneath his leathery skin, even through the coarse material of the shirt he wore. “’m sorry, Leo,” she moaned.
He didn’t pause, but pulled the seatbelt away from her body and smoothly lifted her out. She caught a glimpse of his face, and thought she saw a smile. Not that she could really see straight right now.
Oh gawd, the world wouldn’t stop spinning.
He set her on her feet, and casually caught her when she staggered. “Don’t be. I’m glad you had a good time.”
It was too hot, even though they were in the middle of a New York winter. She pushed against his boney plastron to step away, but his arm tightened around her. “Careful.”
She shook her head, which might not have been such a good idea. The world spun around her even faster. “No, ‘m gonna…”
“Oh.” His grip relaxed, and one hand dropped to his side, but he didn't let her go. At least she could push away from his plastron now.
She swallowed convulsively, and reached for the side of her van. She wanted more space. The last thing she wanted to do was to… oh just thinking about it made it worse.
“Maybe we should get you inside,” Leonardo murmured solicitously, and gestured with his now free hand toward her apartment.
That one movement was all it took to trigger the explosion. April bent over and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the New York street where it mingled with the rest of the filth.
The body she leaned against stiffened, and a weak protest squeaked out of Leonardo’s throat. Three fingers combed through her hair, and pulled it out of her face.
She stood there retching for what seemed like forever, while Leonardo patiently supported her.
She finally finished, but didn’t move, as she gulped deep breaths of the cold night air. She closed her eyes, rather than stare at her puke on the ground. The toe-curling stink of vomit wafted up from the puddle, and god she was glad it was winter and not summer, or the smell would have been unbearable.
Leonardo pressed her head against the firm plastron beneath the woolen shirt. “Feel better?”
“I don’t wanna do that again,” she gasped.
He made a small sound of agreement. “Neither do I.”
That was when she remembered exactly where she was. She opened her eyes and cringed when she saw her vomit spattered against his pants, on his bare feet. Oh god, she was so embarrassed now. She turned her head to give the turtle a sheepish grin. “Happy birthday, Leo?”
That earned her a rare and wonderful laugh from the eldest of the ninja turtles. “Well, I’m not likely to forget this one, that’s for sure.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and helped her up the stairs to her apartment.
She swayed uncertainly, and clung to her friend as they took the steps one at a time. She thought she should find it strange that he didn’t use his normal route through the window. Then again, she couldn’t even walk straight, much less hold on while he climbed up. Not to mention that this late at night, it’d probably only be drunkards like her coming home, and they’d put seeing a six-foot tall turtle down to their inebriated state.
“You’ll let me know if you feel the need to spew again, won’t you?” Leonardo said into the silence.
“Urgh,” she groaned agreeably.
They stopped at the door to her apartment while she dug through her purse for her keys. She still couldn’t see straight, much less look through her damned junky purse. She thrust the offending baggage at Leonardo. “Here, you find my keys.”
Leonardo actually hesitated before he pushed her hand away. “I was using your keys, remember?”
She stared blankly at the hand he held out, and the keys settled in the relatively small palm. “Oh.” She took a deep breath and shot him an unsteady grin. “Knew I kept you around for a reason.”
“Will you be okay from here?” A twinge of uncertainty crept into the normally sure turtle’s voice.
She waved off his concern. “No problem. You’ve done too much.” She hoped she was making sense, she didn’t know if she was slurring or not anymore.
The hands that held her shoulders dropped down to allow her to stagger away.
“Would you wanna come in?”
Leonardo visibly hesitated again. “I really shouldn’t.”
April turned away from him, and staredaround her apartment like she’d never seen it before. She realized that her throat was dry, and she wanted a drink. And a shower. Ugh. She stank. She pushed away from the doorjamb, determined to get a glass of water.
The floor tilted underneath her feet, and she could not find a place that would stay still long enough to take a step.
Strong arms caught her up, and pulled her up against a firm chest. “But I guess I am, anyways.”
Well, since he was going to stay, anyway. “I want a drink of water,” she declared.
Another of his soft laughs. “Your wish is my command. Here, why don’t you sit down for a moment.”
A couch suddenly pressed against the back of her knees and she plopped helplessly down. The green hands carefully situated her into the comfortable corner of the couch and then disappeared. They reappeared with a glass of water, which she clumsily took.
“You gonna need help getting that down?”
She paused with the glass touching her lips and did her level best to glare at the turtle.
She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but she would swear that the corner of his lip twitched.
Leonardo presented an imposing image: standing in the middle of her living room, arms akimbo, eyes narrowed, and the hilts to his katana blades sticking up over his back.
Waitaminute.
She pointed an accusing finger at him. “When did you put those on?”
He blinked, and one of his hands traveled up to touch the rounded hilt of one of his swords. “After you got in the van. I felt naked without them.”
Naked? Giggle. “Leo, you are naked without them.” With that she tipped her glass back. Water sloshed over as well as into her mouth and dribbled down her shirt.
His head rolled back and he reached out to take the glass from her, and set it on the end table to her right. “All right, I think it’s bedtime for April.” He pulled her up into his arms, having apparently decided to completely forego letting her walk.
“No.”
He paused in the midst of working his way around her coffee table and glanced down at her. “No?”
“I need a shower.” When his expression turned dubious, she thrust one finger into the air and stated, “I stink.”
He took a deep breath, like he was going to argue, but seemed to think better of it. She could almost see him reason out another approach. “You can barely stand on your own two feet. What makes you think you’ll be coordinated enough to take a shower?”
She grinned up at him. “Because you’ll be helping me.”
His hands tightened on her side and her thighs and his breathing hitched for a moment. He shot her a surprised look. “That’s not really appropriate.”
“Who cares!”
“You’re family,” he continued in that not-very-Leo-like uncertain voice of his.
“Fuck family. You guys help each other in the shower, I know you do! I stink.” She patted at her abnormally stiff hair. “And I don’t think I completely missed my hair.
“No, I didn’t get it in time. Sorry.” He stood there for several long moments, taking deep controlled breaths.
When it didn’t seem like he would move at all, she curled her arm against his plastron and rested her head on his shoulder. She opened her eyes wide in her best Mikey imitation. “Pleeeeease?”
He sighed in defeat. “Fine.” Then he turned and headed for the bathroom.
His feet slapped on the tile floor and he carried her over to stand her against the wall. “Here, see if you can start getting undressed. I’ll grab some towels.”
She slapped both palms against the cool tile to steady herself and called after him before the door closed, “Could you grab my bathrobe from the closet in my room, too, please?”
He didn’t respond, even though he paused just beyond the door. He’d probably nodded, that would be such a Leo thing to do.
While he was gone, she decided that she could go ahead and attempt to get her clothes off. Hopefully she didn’t wind up on her ass when she did. Her pants were the easiest: simply unsnap them, pull down the zipper, a little bit of wiggling and they dropped to the floor where she could kick them away (and almost land on her butt in the process). She unzipped her coat and worked one arm out at a time, before tossing it to the side with the pants. It landed in the sink. She’d worry about that later. Her shirt proved to be the most difficult obstacle, she couldn't stand straight without the support of the wall, but she needed both hands to pull the shirt over her head.
The bathroom door opened, and Leonardo walked in with a handful of towels and her fluffy bathrobe folded on top of them. He paused at the threshold to take another deep breath, his eyes locked on her bare legs. He cleared his throat, and moved forward to place the towels and bathrobe on the counter of the sink. “Let me give you a hand with that.”
Did his voice just crack?
She hung onto the wall while he worked her shirt up and slid her arms out one at a time. The course material of his woolen shirt had been replaced by his leathery skin and the cold bone of his plastron. She glanced back, only then did she notice he had indeed completely undressed himself. Except the katana that peeked out over the curve of his shoulders.
“Don’t you ever take those off?” April heard herself ask.
The hands paused in the midst of pulling her shirt over her head. Ewww, she had vomit on her face now, and she could smell it. Ugh.
“I had them off earlier, remember?” he finally replied, and tugged her shirt completely off. She could hear the shirt land with the rest of her clothing, and Leonardo hesitated again. Before she could wonder at his pause, he moved with ninja-like speed (ha!) and her bra came undone to hang only by the straps around her arms. Leonardo stepped back with another of his deep breaths. “Think you can do the rest?”
April had to consider that before she dropped on arm and worked herself out of the straps. She thought she heard another hitch in Leonardo’s breathing, but she needed to concentrate on shucking her panties to pay much attention to him. She wobbled in a moment of vertigo, and reached for the tub.
Calloused hands circled around her waist, as Leonardo guided her under the showerhead. He reached up to close the curtains, and shut him out of her sight. She stood there for a long moment staring at the knobs for the water, but she couldn’t remember which one was which.
“Uh, April?” Again that hesitation entered the turtle’s voice. “Did you need anything else?”
If she couldn’t even differentiate between the two knobs, then there was no way that she’d be able to do this on her own.. She flicked the shower curtain to one side so that her face peeked out at him. “Your butt, in here, now.”
Leonardo’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s highly inappropriate.”
She hung off the curtain so that she could wag an unsteady finger at him. “You. Are a. Prude. So shut up.” Her ‘up’ popped from her lips quite unintentionally, but it seemed to have the desired effect.
With another heavy sigh, he caught hold of the curtain and shoved it to the side. He took April’s crutch with it.
She didn’t even have time to squeak before she tumbled to the bottom of the tub. Her head cracked against the wall, and her arms slapped around the offended area. “Shit!”
Leonardo was in the tub, bent over her, hands on her shoulders, then on her own hands, prying her arms away from her head. “Let me look, April,” he snapped when she tried to lock her arms in place.
She obeyed automatically; her hands dropped down to her sides as she waited for the world to stop its endless spin. “Am I going to die?” slipped out of her mouth without her bidding.
Leonardo paused in his inspection, and she would swear that he was laughing at her. “I think you’ll live to see another day.”
He took hold of her shoulders and hefted her to her feet.
She stumbled forward and collided with his plastron, and decided that would be a good place to spend the next few minutes until the world stopped revolving.
The calloused hand reappeared on her back to encircle her shoulders and hold her close to the turtle’s slightly cooler body. His cheek rested on the top of her head, and she’d been with the turtles long enough to identify the curve of his cheek as a smile. “You’re a mess.”
She jabbed her finger up once again, rather liking the way it emphasized her point. “Thus! Why I want a shower.”
His chuckle shook his plastron and broke the soft rhythmic thumps of his heart muffled beneath the bone.
No, not bone. April scraped her nails over the not-bone in drunken thoughtfulness. Started with a ‘k’ right? Kretanin? Kreepinoid? Keratin? Kakarrot? Karrots?
Leonardo disrupted her already disjointed thoughts by turning around to fiddle with something on the wall.
Water suddenly sprayed down on the both of them. April cursed loudly and did her best to burrow underneath the cold not-bone, where the warm beat of his heart lay.
Leonardo’s teeth clattered, and a shiver wracked his body and the sound of knobs turning became more frantic. It took a few moments, but the water finally warmed.
“S-sorry ‘bout that, April,” he said through still clattering teeth.
April pushed away from his chest. “Think I’m awake now.”
“Hm. Enough to handle this on your own?” He caught her when she staggered, and another sigh passed his lips. “Nevermind.”
She leaned her hand against his plastron again, but paused to contemplate the material her fingers encountered. What the hell? “You’re still wearing your swords?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “What the fuck do you think is going to get us in here?”
Leonardo didn’t look at her from his examination of the launderette items arranged on her shelf. “I must admit that the prospect being in the shower with a drunk woman who’s also training in ninjutsu can be a tad scary” He quirked an eyebrow in her direction, smirk on his face to show he was joking. His attention turned back to the shelf. “How do you…?”
She rolled her eyes (oh, hello dizziness) and jabbed her finger in the general direction of the necessary items. “Shampoo, then conditioner, then body wash.”
He reached for the first container, and looked it over as though he’d never really seen it before. (duh, April, no hair, remember?), then he handed it to her.
She stared at the bottle, wondering how the hell she’d be able to get this stuff on her head. Well, she could always just… She flipped the flap open and dumped a good portion of the bottle on her head. She could always buy some more.
Leonardo’s hands moved down to her waist, and he held her steady while she worked up a good lather and then ducked her head under the stream of water. Soap burned against her eyelids, but she kept them shut tight against the sudsy water that ran down her face. She’d grown accustomed to the world’s continuous motion, but it suddenly lurched when she tried to put the bottle back.
“Whoa,” Leonardo murmured, his hand on her arm and once again steadying her. “I’m still here.” His hand traveled up her forearm and took the bottle of shampoo from her hands. “How about you skip a step tonight?”
She clung to his plastron, and waited for the world to at least partially settle before she nodded. “Good idea. Body wash.”
His arms moved away from her, though he tensed as if ready to catch her. “Does this… go on something?”
She turned and her eyes crossed at the bottle shoved in her face. She squinted and finally recognized her bodywash. “There’s a pouf hanging from the shower head. Squeeze it on that.”
“Poof? Oh.”
The constant stream of hot water had warmed Leonardo’s body up considerably. God, she could go to sleep right here. She lay her head against his plastron, eyes slipping close of their own accord.
“Um… April? Still not done here.”
She groaned but cracked an eye open and snatched the sudsy pouf out of the green hand. She looked down to start rubbing it over her body, but had to close her eyes against another wave of vertigo. Her hand dropped to her side, and the pouf dangled from her fingers. When it had passed she looked up at Leonardo with a pleading grin. “Think you could give a girl a hand here.”
Something flashed through his eyes, something she didn’t normally see in this particular turtle. Panic?
“I can barely stand up straight, much less wash myself. And I stink, so don’t,” and she jabbed unsteadily at his shoulder, “try to suggest I skip this, too.”
She thought she heard him mutter some curse under his breath, or something along the lines of ‘you’ve got to be kidding’. It didn’t sound like a very Leonardo thing to say, and she decided that she was only hearing things.
Cue deep breath number 536, before he took the pouf from her. She braced her arms against the wall to cradle her still aching head while he tentatively touched the soapy pouf to her shoulder. His normally graceful motions became awkward and jerky, like…
April glanced over her shoulder. “It helps if you actually watch what you’re doing.”
The only thing she could compare his following expression to was ‘hand caught in the cookie jar.’ His mouth opened to object, only to release sigh number five hundred and uh… what number was she on, oh well, five hundred and eighty-two. But he paid attention to where he put the poof, even if he only gave light dabs on her butt and breasts.
“You must think we’re repulsive.” Again, words slipped out of her mouth before she could censor them. Damn, she needed to stop that.
His gaze lifted from the pouf that hovered over her stomach to stare at her in surprise. From this angle, with him slightly bent, she could see the water spattering over the curve of his shell, and wonder again how much he could feel through all that bone. Probably nothing at all.
“What?” he asked, as though he couldn’t believe his ears.
“Humans disgust you, don’t we?”
His mouth opened and he stared at her for a long moment. He finally shut his mouth with a snap and his brow furrowed. If she didn’t know any better, she might think she’d offended him. Wait, maybe she had.
“This would be much easier if you did,” he ground out through clenched teeth. Leonardo glared at her for another minute before he bent to his task again. He took another of those damned breaths, before continuing in an even voice. “It’s not like we have a basis for comparison on our own species, you know.” Then he straightened and squeezed out the pouf before adding another handful of body wash to the lacy material.
She watched him crouch down, and stroke the pouf up and down her bare legs for a few long minutes. He seemed reluctant to touch her. “Prove it.”
He didn’t even bother to look up this time. “Prove what?”
“Prove that you don’t think I’m revolting.”
His hands froze, and his face turned up to stare at her. His eyes narrowed, but whether in suspicion or because of the water pelting his face she couldn’t tell. “How would you want me to do that?”
“Kiss me.”
His face twisted, like he’d just swallowed some very nasty sewer water.
She couldn’t help it she laughed.
“Oh, haha. Very funny, April.” He slapped the pouf to her calf and dragged it roughly down her leg.
“No, seriously. Prove it.” She curled her fingers around the knot of his mask tugged indignantly. “Come on.”
The pouf dropped to the slippery floor of the bathtub and the giant green turtle rose.
April’s throat closed on a squeak as she was reminded that for all their lack in height, the turtles could be very imposing figures. She couldn’t identify the expression that thundered on Leonardo’s face, but it made her blood run a little colder, and her heart beat a little faster. His eyes had narrowed to pinpoints, and yet seemed to take in the whole of her: her face, her body, her mind, her very soul. He pressed into her space without even touching her, without even leaning closer; like his aura had become tangible, and she suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was a naked woman in the presence of something that while not at all human, was still so very, clearly masculine.
She curled her hands over her chest, and watched the turtle with wide eyes. She had to remind herself, that this was Leonardo. Leonardo. And he would never hurt her.
Right?
He planted a hand on either side of her, just far enough apart that she could slide away, if she wished. Then Leonardo leaned forward and gave her a chaste peck on the lips.
Just like that he pulled away, until only his breath brushed her cheek. “There. Happy now?”
Her heart stuttered in her chest and her jaw dropped. “No,” croaked out of her throat. That damned alcohol talking again. “Doesn’t prove anything.” Goddammit, shut up!
The corners of Leonardo’s mouth tightened for only a second. He leaned forward again and pressed his lips against hers in a very-much-so not chaste kiss.
April did squeak this time, surprised that he went through with it, when he didn’t have the excuse of having drunk enough to put an elephant under.
He didn’t have lips. That was the first thing she noticed. At least, not lips like she knew them. And he couldn’t purse them the way a human could. He could move the upper part of his snout, however, and manipulate his bottom lip against hers deliciously. It was nothing like being kissed by another human: not Casey, not her first boyfriend, not her college sweetheart, not anyone she’d kissed before. She gasped against his mouth, eyes opened wide.
He watched her through the narrowed slits of his eyelids. Then his hands slid closer, dropped down to embrace her naked waist and pull her against him. He nuzzled her cheek, her ear, her neck; nipping gently at her skin.
Oh god. April’s pulse pounded in her ears, and she couldn’t find her breath.
Leonardo returned to her lips, his breath playing over them as he paused to meet her eyes.
She had no idea what to think. Her heart still raced in her chest, and she found her arms had somehow wrapped around Leonardo's neck. When had that happened?
She didn't protest when he crushed his mouth against hers again. Didn't shake off the hands(strange, three-fingers that always meant safety, and friendship) that began tentative explorations of her back and side.
Leonardo's mouth moved against hers, and his dry tongue touched her lips. He put one hand on either side of her waist and slid his fingers up. A soft moan escaped his throat as his fingertips brushed the soft flesh of her breasts.
She echoed the moan, her arms tightening around his neck.
He stopped, just like that. His entire body- even his breathing-froze, only the rapid beat of his heart gave any indication that he was more than a living statue. Then he took a deep breath and nuzzled her forehead. “You're awfully bossy when you're drunk, April.”
April opened her eyes to find him regarding her evenly. She broke out into an unrepentant grin. “So Casey's said, lots of times.”
He withdrew then, more in spirit than in physical proximity. His hands remained on her, though in far more modest places, to hold her steady. “What would he think if he heard about this?”
Thoughts of the vigilante soured her mood and she snorted in exasperation. “Casey can go suck Shredder's dick, for all I care. Jackass.”
Leonardo blanched. “There's an image for my nightmares.”
Her still inebriated mind slowly pieced together another puzzle that had occurred to her. “This has to be the worst birthday present ever, for you.”
He glanced down at her, one of his brows lifted in surprise.
“It's your birthday, but you're having to cart my drunk ass around town and around my apartment, and... and--” She waved her hand to indicate the shower and their current situation. She hung her head. “God, I'm so lame, Leo.”
“Oh,” he drawled, quite casually, “I don't know. The night’s had its perks that's for sure.”
She blinked at him in confusionabout what the hell he meant.
He pointedly glanced down at her still naked (and soapy, come to think of it) body.
“Oh, no.” A laugh escaped before she could stop it. “No way. Uh uh. You’re not telling me that you actually find this attractive.” She frantically waved her arms back and forth in front of her body. “No way! I'm human!” The world did another one of its spinning acts, but she didn't know if it was from the alcohol, or the revelation that the turtles-her friends-could possibly be interested (or, god forbid, have been interested all this time) in her like that. But she knew them, knew their expressions. She knew the look they gave her, one they shared with no other. “That’s a real bad joke, Leo.” She sure as hell wasn’t laughing.
She had thought it had just been because she was a woman. Not that.
Leonardo did step away then, and something flashed across his face, but he only gave her negligent shrug. “Well, what can you expect? We did grow up on human television.”
She stared at him, what could she possibly say to that. “Oh.” Yup, real smart there, April.
Leonardo sighed (again) and turned to step out. “I think you're sobered up enough to take care of this. I'll head back now.”
He shoved the curtain to the side and stepped out of the tub.
April had never rinsed so fast in her life. She didn't even bother to towel anything dry, but snatched up her bathrobe and staggered out of the bathroom while stuffing an arm through a sleeve. “Leo, wait!”
He hadn’t turned the lights on, but she could see him shadowed in the glow of the moon. Leonardo turned to look at her, poised to leap out of her window. He looked away just as quickly, turning to stare out at the New York night sky.
She didn’t close her bathrobe in time, clutched her bathrobe closer around her, but the cold night air bit right through the soft fleece like it wasn’t there.” Look, I'm sorry. I'm drunk, and I know that's a lousy excuse. I should have really known better.” She ignored his muttered ‘no kidding’. “I know you grew up watching TV and it really didn’t click with me that it might have actually altered what a turtle would view as attractive.” His expression didn’t change, and she slapped the heels of her palms against her forehead in frustration. “I’m just digging myself a deeper grave, aren’t I?”
He still didn’t say anything , but his angry gaze dropped to the streets.
“Please, don’t leave like this. That was stupid of me, and I’m sorry.”
To her great relief, Leonardo stepped away from the window to finally look at her. “What do you want from me?”
She shivered involuntarily as a breeze wafted through her apartment. “Closing the window would be a start. Preferably with you on this side.”
Another sigh puffed out of his mouth, but he obligingly turned and locked the window into place.
April slid up behind him, and she didn’t even try to fool herself that it was unnoticed. He stiffened even before she put her hands on the rough contours of his shell rim. She knew that she usually had sober reasons for having never considered anything like this with any of the turtles, but now with the moon shining down on Leonardo, and her mind still clouded with alcohol, those reasons fled her. Right then, she only knew the pain she’d seen in his eyes, and she just wanted to banish it. Their enemies hurt them enough physically without having to make them worry about emotional wounds from their friends. From her.
Rather than turn around at her tugs on his shell, Leonardo stepped out of her reach. Away from the window.
Okay, she could understand that. She wouldn’t let that bother her. He was just trying to stay out of sight, and be all ninja-y, right? God, she was starting to sound like Michelangelo. She needed to go to bed. But first…
His hands remained at his side, and still he said nothing. The moonlight glinted off his eyes tracking her through the apartment, the only sign that she had his attention at all. Her feet made no noise over the carpet, and her head spun with what she was about to do.
She curled her hands over his cheeks (did he flinch?) and pulled his face closer. “Even after knowing you guys for three years, you can still surprise me, you know?”
He steadied himself with a light touch on her shoulders, and a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Even after a lifetime around humans, you guys can still surprise us. So, yeah. I do know.”
“Well,” she murmured, as she stepped closer to him, “we both have a lot to learn.”
She closed her eyes and kissed him. She touched his jaw, his snout, trying to get a feel of his face in her hands, of her mouth melded over his, of his fingers on her shoulder. She stroked his cheeks, brushed the course material of his mask. She opened her eyes to find his eyes on her, his gaze calculating. His hands disappeared from her shoulders, and large fingers encircled her wrists and pulled her hands away from his face. He moved his head away, breaking their kiss.
“April, what are you doing?”
She twisted her hands out of his grip, but he didn’t fight too hard to keep hold of her. Her bathrobe tumbled from her shoulders, and she dropped her arms to let it fall the rest of the way. She didn’t pay attention to where it settled, but stepped closer to the turtle. “What does it look like?”
He glanced down, for only a brief moment, and panic flashed across his face again. “April…”
She kissed the end of his snout, the skin leathery under her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck, but she pulled one hand back to comb out the tails of his mask.
Another puff of air sighed from his chest. He ducked her lips, but pressed his face to her neck. His hands came up to caress her back, and he mouthed at her throat, and then moved on. He kissed her shoulder, her chest. She was certain he would have at least nipped her breasts, but his snout breezed right past them, only to touch her belly.
April’s head rolled back, and she placed her fingertips on the top of Leo’s head. She couldn’t quite catch her breath, her skin suddenly hypersensitive to his every touch. To the fingers that stroked down her buttocks. To the breath over her belly button. A whimper squeaked out of her throat, a soft plea for more.
His cheek rested against the lowest curve of her abdomen, his snout hovering so close to her most private parts. His breath washed over the small hairs of her groin. She wanted him to do something but sit there and breath on her. She wanted him to put his mouth on her, stick his tongue in her.
Goddamn him! Why was he just sitting there? “Leo!”
He jerked as though he’d just awakened from sleep. His palms slid down her thighs, and tickled the back of her knees. His breath swept down her legs, interrupted only by an occasional convulsive swallow. His hands disappeared from her legs, but she could hear his fingers skitter over the carpet. Was he looking for something?
Impatient with him, she drew swirls over his round head, slipping her fingers under his mask. She jerked them away when she accidentally poked him in the eye. He didn’t complain, outside of a soft ‘hey!’, and so she continued to wander her hand over his moonlit skin, over the knot of his bandana. She could feel him scrunch his brows, even if she couldn’t see his expression, she could hear him swallow, and the way it broke the rhythm of his breath on her skin.
He abruptly stood, his arms still around her. Cloth rushed up her back with his motion, only to settle around her shoulders. He shook his head. “No.”
She stared blankly at him, she didn’t know how to interpret that one word. “No?”
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed, expression guarded. “I’m not doing this.”
She frowned, though she knew what he meant. “Why?”
“Because you’re drunk.” It wasn’t an accusation, or a judgment, merely a statement of fact.
“So?”
He finally smiled, a patient smile like he gave Michelangelo, and pulled her robe close. “I’m not taking advantage of you like this.”
April’s mouth quirked to the side. “Like what?”
Leonardo heaved a sigh, and furrowed his brows. “You’re drunk.”
“So,” she immediately retorted, “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. You’re not taking advantage, Leo.”
He retreated a step, when she tried to approach him. “I don’t want to be something you’d regret.”
Her heart jumped at that, and once more words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them, “Raph would do it.”
Leonardo narrowed his eyes again. “Then, I’ll be glad that he’s not here, and I am.” His hand stroked down her arm, over the soft material of her robe and he gently pushed her toward her room. “You should go to bed.”
“You’re leaving?”
He smiled at that, though she couldn’t imagine why. “Well, yeah. It’s getting rather late.” He glanced down at her robe and looked away just as quickly. Then he turned and moved toward the window.
April reached out and grabbed his shell. “Don’t go.”
His shoulders dropped, but he didn’t look back at her. “Why?”
“Maybe we’re not done.”
That made him shoot her a half-suspicious, half-annoyed glare over his shell His eyes traveled down, but snapped up as immediately as the previous time. “Maybe I want you to know what you’re asking first,” he shot back.
April pressed her lips together, but didn’t let go of Leonardo’s shell. “Then wait until morning. Stay.”
She heard the bones of his hand creak, and she peeked over the curve of his shell, surprised to find his fingers curled into a fist.
She scratched the back of his shell, as she would have scratched the back of a man. He didn’t react; he couldn’t even feel it, she realized. So she touched the muscles of his arm, the padding over his elbow. Her hand trailed down the leathery texture of his skin, and slipped over his fist. “Stay,” she repeated.
He didn’t react, didn’t move for several minutes. She couldn’t even see his shoulders rise with his breath. Then Leonardo uncurled his fist and accepted her hand.