A/N: All right Raphril shippers this is my first go at writing this pairing, so go easy on me… plus I'm working through some writers block. I'm aiming for a lighter feel with this one shot, since my story from the other night Then There Was Donnie was so serious.


Telling him to calm down would be like putting your hands up to stop a freight train. He was legitimately mad, but he shouldn't be. But April couldn't say either of those things. She wouldn't. There would be no, don't be mad, and calm down. She wasn't going to fuel the fire. Not on purpose at least. And definitely not with his teeth bared and the constant grumbling noises he was making. "I swear, it said that small cup of water and that big one of milk. Get the damn box out of the trash, will ya?"

All April could see was the back of his shell, a mixing bowl, a string of ingredients from one end of her kitchen counter to the other… several she wasn't even sure went into brownies. Oh, what was she going to be eating? And how was she going to fake its goodness when he would taste it and declare it shit.

He opened the refrigerator with a huff, yanking forth a carton of eggs. She held her breath until he placed them on the counter, carefully as she hoped he would. A fluttery sensation travelled down her arms, causing her heart to skip beats. He could be socareful.

"Well, will ya?"

"Hmm?" He blurred into focus, and she caught sight of his face, green, pebbled and smattered with flour. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, determined not to let a giggle slip free. That would not go over well, not when he was trying so hard. She didn't move from her seat at the kitchen table, choosing her words carefully. "So, you're saying it's okay if I help now?"

His head turned ever so slowly, until his gorgeous green eyes locked on her. "Just get the damn box."

She straightened in her chair as she got a look at him straight on. The flour was on his mask, his cheeks, and as he rubbed the back of his hand over his face he smeared it. She leaned forward, squinting to better see. What was on his lips?

"What?" he groused.

April pushed her chair back, crossing the small distance between them. Stretching on tiptoe she reached for him.

"What're you doin'?" He watched her every movement, following her fingers as they travelled to his mouth. It was by instinct that he pulled back a bit, before permitting her to touch him. This didn't bother her, for they'd been together a long time and she understood him well.

Her eyes were pinned to his lip. "Raphael, it that chocolate?"

"Huh? What're you talkin' bout? I'm makin' brownies," his eye ridges shot up, "they're chocolate aint' they?"

"Yes, but-" She ran her index finger over the smudge then brought it to her tongue to taste. "How did you get it on your mouth?" The corners of her lips curled. "You wouldn't… be, I don't know, tastingthe batter while you work would you?"

He glared at her. "Don't you worry about what I'm doin' just get the damn box."

She glanced at the bowl behind him, reached around and dipped her finger in. "No."

He straightened. "What'd you say?"

She shrugged as she drew her finger into her mouth again. She sucked off the chocolate with a snarky 'pop'. "I said no."

"Why you little-" he reached down, grabbed her by the waist and plopped her butt on the counter, using her to push back the tide of ingredients. Seconds later a thick green finger swiped her cheek with something wet.

She reached up, touched the side of her face then held her hand where she could see. "Oh no youdidn't." Her eyes darted from the chocolate on her fingers, her hand following as she reached up to wipe it off on him.

He blocked her easily, a smirk crossing his chocolate laced lips. She settled for smearing it across his arm then swiped a finger in the batter again turning around in time to find him flinging a handful of flour at her.

"Raph! That's in my hair!" She yelped.

He snickered and she lunged at him only managing to get a smear over the hand he blocked her with. He stepped closer to her and she took a step back fumbling behind her for the bowl. With a shake of his head he warned her. "You better quit."

There was a rare sparkle in his eye that told her he was playing, the crooked grin on his flour dusted face confirming it. You think you dominate everything don't you, Raphael? A spark ignited in her chest, one that he could summon from her faster than anyone or anything. Well we'll see about that. She dipped all of her fingers in the batter. "What're you going to do if I don't?" she challenged.

"Uh-uh, ya better not, it's goin' ta be you that ends up wearin' that." He squared his massive shoulders and crossed his arms, an expectant look on his face.

She withdrew her hand from the mixing bowl, brought her fingers to her lips and licked the first one slowly, keeping her eyes on him as she did. The chocolate dripped down the back of her hand, travelling down her arm. He inhaled as she closed her lips over her index and hummed at the rich flavor of it. What had he put in this stuff? It was really good.

As she drew her middle finger to her lips his jaw went slack, his eyes glazing over as his stance shifted to feet apart, and arms dangling by his side. She took a step closer as she swirled the finger around her mouth. Next she drew her ring finger to her lips, dragging her tongue up and down then around the back of her hand gathering the chocolate. With another step she beckoned him to her with her index. His huge frame lowered, until he faced her, eye to smoldering green gems. She brought her pinky to his lips, ghosting it across the bottom and to her delight they parted.

"This is really good batter, Raphael," she whispered, her gaze falling to his mouth as their breath mingled. "What'd you put in it?"

The gruffness in his voice had her heart skipping beats. "You can taste it, you tell me." He was so close she could smell the chocolate on his breath, her tongue anticipating the taste of him. Her eyes flitted up to meet his as she extended her tongue to his lip, in a slow smooth stroke. He growled, reached out and pulled her to him, sweeping her mouth with his. Then hands were grabbing, moans were escaping, and fingers were dipping in the bowl then dragged over cheeks, arms, and mouths, tongues tracing the trails of chocolate.

It was the wolf whistle behind Raph that broke them apart. In their chocolate bliss neither of them heard the window open. They both looked up and over to find Michelangelo grinning so wide his eyes near closed. His eye ridges bobbed up and down, his head seeming to follow the action. "What're you two doin'?" He glanced around the kitchen. "Fingerpainting with chocolate? That sounds fun." His eye ridges popped up. "Can I join?"