WARNING! Surprise!Turtle Anatomy. (I did say that the first chapter was the safest, and I do mean that!)
Author's Note This is also called 101 Ways to Humiliate and Embarrass Leonardo. (Well, not really 101 ways, but it's funnier like that, yes?)I didn't mean to take so long, but I've been plugging at it whenever I can get the muse to cooperate. I've got a start on the next part. My muse has just stalled me on an important scene. As a matter of fact, he's done that with any fic at a similar point. *shakes a fist at her muse* I might have lost the 'voice' of the story while writing this chapter. I tried to keep it, but may not have succeeded. *headdesk*
The sun beamed right through her eyelids, digging daggers into her eyeballs, and deep into her head. A foul taste stuck at the back of her throat, but she couldn't swallow, her mouth was too dry. An ache tried to cleave her head in two, and she brought her hands up to shut the light out of her eyes.
Something pinned her torso. An arm? April froze. Was someone else in her bed? Not Casey. The arm was muscular, but too lean, too toned.
April's breath came in shallow wisps as she took stock of her bed partner. Seriously not Casey, the chest was all wrong. The thighs were also too thick. The body pressed the mattress down in an odd way, as though most of his weight centered on his torso…
She could hear him breathing, but she couldn't tell if he was awake. His breath came in even whispers, moving over her hair and through the material of her robe.
April couldn't recall what had happened last night.
She slid her hand back, trying to move as quietly as possible. The fuzzy robe clung to her fingers, but she didn't pay any attention to that. She touched an arm, skin tough, leathery, and familiar. A suspicion crept through her mind, but she didn't want to believe it.
Her hand came into contact with something hard. Boney. Armor?
No. A turtle shell.
Okay, this was not abnormal. When she accompanied them on a mission that kept them out long enough for them to need to sleep, the turtles would often curl up together, or with their human friends. She'd woken up plenty of times with one (or more) of them snuggled up against her warm body.
This wasn't like that, though. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew that this was different. It made her freeze as she tried to pinpoint the difference.
That was when she came to a second, startling revelation.
She was naked under her bathrobe.
Why the hell was she in bed with a turtle and (practically) naked?
Oh god, she hadn't.
She knew that they were one-of-a-kind (or four-of-a-kind), and they wouldn't be able to find any female turtles like them. She had promised herself—long ago—that she would never tease them like that, like this (not to mention that they had all been underage at the time she'd met them.).
What had happened last night? Oh, if only her head didn't hurt so much!
"There's a glass of water and a bottle of advil on the night stand," came a soft voice from behind her.
She kicked out with a surprised yelp. He was awake?
Okay, maybe she shouldn't be surprised. He'd probably woken up the moment she touched him, or if she wasn't kidding herself, the moment she moved or maybe even woke up.
His arms tightened around her for a moment, but let go when she stiffened.
Last night was still a fuzzy collection of broken images and sounds that didn't make any sense. They'd gone out to celebrate his eighteenth birthday last night, she recalled. She'd managed to get herself plastered, and she vaguely recalled something about a shower.
"I promise nothing happened."
Oh god, her head hurt so bad.
The turtle sat up and leaned over her to reach the night stand. He held out a bottle that rattled every time it moved. "This will help with that."
April winced, and glared at the noisy bottle clutched in the green hand. "Do you have to do that?"
The hand stilled. "Sorry."
She grabbed the bottle from him and worked the top off. She spilled two white pills into her hand, and tossed them into her mouth. A glass of water appeared in front of her. April couldn't help the smile that grew on her face as she sat up and accepted the offering. "You're too considerate, Leo."
Leonardo chuckled and laid back down, though he kept his hands to himself. "Maybe I'm just reluctant to lose the warm body next to me. It's cold in here." He pointedly tugged the comforter over his shoulder.
April grinned (headache's still there too, owwwww) and downed a mouthful of water with the pills. Stale water. Nasty. Did nothing for the foul taste in her mouth, either. Ew. Still, Leo was right; it was too cold to leave the comfort of her bed just yet.
She stared at the bookshelf across from her bed, the shelves filled with theoretical documents, thrillers and mysteries, and even a few romances guiltily tucked in between the other paperbacks. She didn't want to leave her warm bed, but her state of undress embarrassed her around her friend. "Why are you still here?" She blanched, that hadn't come out at all how she wanted it to. "I would have thought you'd leave before the sun came up."
She glanced over her shoulder at her guest, and had to force her mouth close when she realized that he'd taken his mask off. 'Don't be ridiculous, April. Of course he takes the mask off when he sleeps at home.' She knew they hadn't when they were sleeping here, though. She firmly recalled Michelangelo's fists being framed in orange when he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
Leonardo tilted his head, a thoughtful crease on his brow. "You asked me to stay," he finally said.
That only made her eyes grow wider at the implications behind his words. Her heart pounded as his voice flitted through her memory, 'I don't want to be something you'd regret.' What the hell had she done last night?
Leonardo watched with concern in his eyes. He propped himself up on his elbow and reached out with his other hand to touch her shoulder. "April?"
She looked away, and rubbed a hand over her aching head, fingers dragging through her knotted hair. "Why did I ask you to stay?" She felt like a fool for asking, but she couldn't remember what she had said last night. She remembered dragging him into the shower, she remembered…
…fingers stroking down the skin of her buttocks…breath over her belly, on her legs…
Her fingers strayed down to her lips, the memory—the feel—of his kiss suddenly at the forefront of her mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut, as though that simple action would have shut the memory out of her mind.
He hadn't answered her question, she realized. "Are you trying to think up a convincing lie?"
He yanked his hand away as though burned. "I don't lie," he grated out in a most offended tone.
She pulled her robe closed and planted her feet on the floor. "Okay, not a lie." She used her free hand to push her hair out of her face. "I just meant, were you trying to find some way of telling me without actually saying what happened?" She glared at the empty glass of water on her night stand. Her head still pounded, the medicine slow to work its way through her system.
He was silent for a few breaths, until finally; "Nothing important."
She quirked a smile back at him. "See, exactly what I meant." She stood, then, and headed for the door. "You know, I think I want to eat before I deal with this."
"Sounds like a good idea," she heard him say before she shut herself in the bathroom.
Her clothes lay in a scattered reminder of what she barely remembered last night. Her coat still sat in the sink, and her blouse and pants lay in a pile next to the toilet. Her underthings, she was embarrassed to notice, were draped over her towel bar. She hastily grabbed everything and stuffed it into the hamper with the dirty towels. Well, she told herself, it's not like he hadn't see you naked anyways. So what's a few underthings after that? That didn't stop her face from heating up, and she was glad he wasn't there to see it.
She could hear him pass by just outside the door, the soft, purposeful creak of the floorboards that would let her know he was up and about. Heading for the kitchen no doubt.
She finished up in the bathroom and tied her robe close before she stepped back out into the apartment.
Leonardo sat at the table with a bowl of cereal, quietly munching away. He didn't even turn to look at her, though she had no doubt that he was very aware of her presence as she walked behind him. His bandana tails draped over his shell, but he hadn't strapped on his katana yet. They weren't sitting next to him, he must have left them in her bedroom.
She could feel his eyes on her while she went about the motions of fixing her own bowl of cereal. Her heart raced, and she couldn't seem to move quite as smoothly as she normally did. She accidentally knocked over the cereal box and had to snatch it up before it could dump its entire contents on the floor.
Her bathrobe fell open as she was bent over, revealing her still bare chest.
Dammit, she'd forgotten to get dressed. Her head still wasn't working right. Or maybe it was the turtle's steady gaze that had her all out of sorts. Bits and pieces of the night before flitted through her head, unbidden. Snippets and conversations that didn't make sense without context.
Leonardo remained silent.
That was it, April decided. The silence was bugging her. She poured milk into her bowl and sat it on the table in front of her chair. "So, uh, what did the guys do for you yesterday, before I kidnapped you that is?" She still couldn't bring herself to look at him.
The sounds of his eating (which hadn't stopped even during her misadventure with the cereal) halted. "Well," he paused as though not sure having to remember, "Mikey brought back some birthday cake from the job he had to do yesterday. Raph and Casey both brought some beer in..."
"They would." She paused and snuck a peek at him. That they drank didn't surprise her. She'd had a long conversation with Master Splinter on the matter that amounted to 'they can save the world, they can handle alcohol.' "You didn't have any then, did you?"
"No. It was much funnier watching them get drunk and try to entice Donnie into having some."
That gave her pause. "He doesn't drink?"
"He can't stand the taste. Raph hates that he can tell it's there just by smelling it."
"Wow." April put a spoonful of bran cereal in her mouth. "Wait… then you do drink?" He hadn't had a thing last night, she was sure of it!
"I prefer sake."
She rolled her eyes with a snort. "Of course. So what did Master Splinter do for you?"
Leonardo chuckled, his laugh low and private. "Gave me the night off."
Forgetting her mouthful of cereal, her jaw fell open and she stared at him. "What?"
He grinned and raised his hand to wave off her surprise. "That was a joke. Really. He gave me a new rack for my swords, something he and Donnie both had been working on."
Come to think of it, she remembered seeing something like that once, when she'd stopped by the lair and Leo hadn't been home. "Nice."
He stood, and took the bowl to the sink. "I should probably head back and make sure no one's gotten in trouble while I've been gone."
"You have the shell cell, don't you?"
"That's beside the point."
She stared down at her own bowl, appetite suddenly missing. "What did I say last night?"
"Leo..." she snapped back, mocking his patronizing tone. She leaned back in her chair to glower at him, hands tucked under her arms.
He glanced at her and then turned his gaze back to the sink. "I'm not holding you to anything you said while you were drunk. Don't worry about it."
"So I did say something."
He shot a surprised glare at her, apparently not expecting her to say that. "Like I said, it wasn't important, and I'm not holding you to it."
'You must think I'm revolting.'
'This would be much easier if I did.'
Her eyebrows furrowed, working out the still hazy events of last night. Her fingers touched her lips again, remembering his kiss and the touch of his hands.
"You goddamned idiot."
April dropped her hands from her face and glared at the turtle. "You are a goddamned, stubborn idiot." She pressed her lips together and rethought that. "You are a goddamned, stubborn, honorable idiot."
His brows lifted, and the corners of his mouth turned down. "You would have preferred that I went ahead and..." he waved his hand at her and then at the bedroom, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. "...you know... while you were drunk?"
"Well... no... not really..."
"All right then."
"So, what's your excuse now?"
His eyes narrowed, and he snatched the towel off the counter to dry his hands. He didn't say a word as he swiped at first one hand then the other, his gaze never straying from her face. He casually tossed the towel aside, and she couldn't help but follow its path to the edge of the sink.
She should have known better than to take her eyes off a ninja turtle.
He was suddenly in her space, turning her in her chair, pressing her into the table. His breath washed over her face (he needs breath mints, she thought in some still rational part of her mind), his breathing coming a little faster, nervous.
"Is this what you want?"
She forced herself to take a deep breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction. She set her jaw, and leaned back against the table. "Maybe?" Okay she really needed better control of her voice, she squeaked too easily.
His lips twitched, and his eyes narrowed a few increments more. (Rather like Michelangelo and his ever expanding grin) He leaned closer still, hands braced on the table behind her. "What would you have me do, then, April?"
"Yes." A light touch of breath ghosted across the small hairs at the back of her neck, and she had to clench her muscles to keep from leaning into it. "Do you want me to seduce you?" His breath moved from her face to her neck. Her skin twitched with his proximity, and she couldn't breathe with the expectation of a kiss—or a bite, she couldn't tell. His voice went from a soft sigh of air to a low growl. "Or perhaps you want me to be more forceful?" Then he was gone, back by the sink, leaving her bereft of his touch. "Or did you want to make the first move?"
She still couldn't remember how to breathe. "Um..."
His head tilted, and his lips twitched up in an all-too-brief brief smile.
That only made her face heat with embarrassment. "Okay, so what part of that was honorable? You tell me! That didn't seem very honorable at all!"
"I was just showing you what choices you have. Very honorable." He ducked his snout into his fingers, and his eyes glinted at her.
That jerk! He was laughing at her!
She scowled at him. "And why do I have to make the choice here? Can't you act first?" She narrowed her eyes. "Or is that just not honorable."
Brown eyes dropped to the floor and Leonardo nervously rubbed at his right arm. His mouth opened a few times, but no sound came out. He took a deep breath, but let it out still without a sound.
'Maybe I want you to know what you're asking first.'
Was Leonardo afraid she'd reject him?
The idea of Leonardo being afraid was almost ridiculous.
But would she?
She didn't know. She didn't want to hurt him, but...
She pushed her chair away from the table and picked up her bowl to take it to the sink. She turned the knob and held the bowl under the stream of water that flowed out of the faucet. She glanced at the turtle. "If you want something, you shouldn't expect someone else to make the first move."
She could feel his eyes on her as she shut the water off and set the bowl into the sink.
One of his hands settled on her lower arm and slid up to her inner elbow. "April..." His other hand appeared on her shoulder and his bony plastron pressed against her back, pushing at her shoulder blades.
Her skin tingled where his breath touched her, zinging all the way down to her fingers. She gasped, and leaned into him.
His mouth brushed the nape of her neck. The hand on her shoulder moved up to run his fingers through her tangled hair. Three large fingers combed through the tangled mess and his breath lifted from her neck.
April covered the hand on her elbow, caressing the leathery skin. Her heart pounded, and she pulled his hand off her and wrapped his arm around her waist. She played with his wrist band, and slid her fingers under the padding. She glanced back, but her hair obstructed her view of the turtle.
He didn't stop moving her hair about. His breath returned to her skin, but on the other side. He rested his cheek on her shoulder, and simply watched himself run his hand through her hair.
"What are you doing, Leo?"
"Your hair," he murmured. "I've always wanted to touch it."
"Is that all you're going to do?"
His hand slid from her head. "No, not if you-" He stopped mid-sentence, and tugged. "Um..."
Her hand clapped over the hair tangled around his fingers. "Ow!" She winced as he pulled again. "Don't do that!"
His voice dropped a few octaves in embarrassment. "Er, sorry about this, April." He yanked a little harder.
She seized his wrist in both of her hands. "Gah! Stop that! Let me do it!" She followed his hand to the knots around his fingers.
He held perfectly still while she worked her messy hair off his fingers.
She pursed her lips in a frown as she picked at the knots. "Geez, you'd think I didn't condition it or something."
"Well, you didn't."
She closed her eyes and shook her head at herself. "I guess you would know."
"Heh." He stayed silent for another minute. "If I'd known this was going to happen, I don't think I would have let you skip that step."
Her hair finally fell completely free, and she shook her head, this time in relief. "Let's not do that again."
"I'm sorry about that."
She turned around to give him a small smile. "It's okay. It's not like you're used to messing with hair."
He laughed, softly. "No, not really." He brushed her hair back from her face, so that he could run his thumb over her cheek. "You really okay with this?"
"Shut up and kiss me, Leo."
He pulled her closer, and did exactly that.
His kiss felt as strange now as it had the night before, stranger still now that she had a clearer head (oh, the aspirin's kicked in). His mouth moved against hers, sometimes in conjunction, and sometimes twisting in impossible ways as though he wasn't sure of what he was doing. (well, how many woman has he kissed? More like, how many times has he kissed anyone?) His plastron mashed her breasts down. She had nothing to compare this whole experience to, and she found herself as nervous as her first time. He kissed her thoroughly, fingers of one hand lightly touching her cheek, while his other arm encircled her waist.
She did not keep herself so circumspect. She curled her fingers over the hard muscles of his shoulders, and explored the ridges that lay under the leathery texture of his skin. She couldn't help but admire the way his muscles moved deliciously under that strange skin.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the musky scent that she had come to associate with the turtles, and the underlying smell of sewage that they always carried around with them. It wasn't particularly horrible (she had smelled much, much worse on Mikey after he went skateboarding), and she had long grown accustomed to it. Beneath all of that lay something she hadn't smelled since the last date she'd had with Casey, when they were trying to patch their relationship up.
April broke the kiss, only to press her nose against the wrinkled skin of his neck. She pulled away to look at him, she really could smell it still clinging to his skin. "Leonardo... are you wearing cologne?"
Leo's hand fell away from her face and his eyes looked everywhere but at her.
April's eyes narrowed in suspicion then. "You weren't planning this, were you?"
The turtle's eyes went wide in his mask and he stared down at her incredulously. "Planning?" He chuckled. "No. None of this involved planning on my part. I just wanted to blend in a little better wherever you decided to take me."
April silently contemplated her turtle friend for a time before she moved her nose back to his neck. She took deep breaths, trying to reach past the musk and sewage, to identify the masculine scent underneath.
Leonard didn't seem to mind that she insisted on shoving her face into his neck. The hand on her back slid up to her shoulder, three fingers gently kneading the muscles underneath the robe. His mouth brushed her cheek, warm breath washing over her ear.
It tickled, and she shivered, and lifted her head with a gasp.
His other hand came up and swept her hair away from her neck, allowing his mouth full access.
April dug her fingers into his arms, her breath coming in ragged pants His inhumanly wide mouth covered more of her neck and shoulder than she ever thought possible. Her hands moved from his arms to wrap around his head.
He took a deep breath, excited, uncontrolled. A quiver ran down his arm, and he pressed even closer still, touching as much of himself to her as possible. His hands moved over her body, all gentle, but eager, touches. He kissed up her neck and over her jaw, to settle on her mouth.
He paused in his kisses and one of his hands wandered down to cup her bottom.
She opened her eyes as he put gentle pressure on the curve of her bottom.
His brown eyes flicked nervously back and forth, watching for her reaction. He squeezed her again, and then his other hand moved down to join the first, cupping her other cheek.
She wrinkled her nose at him and kissed his snout. "I'm not gonna break you know."
His brow ridges lifted and his eyes widened in surprise at her comment. "I don't want to hurt you."
She made a face at him again, and jabbed her finger into the sensitive skin at the edge of his shell. "You. Won't. So you don't have to be so gentle!"
He kissed her upper cheek, and squeezed her lower. "Maybe I just want to savor the moment." He kissed her again, tilting her back against the edge of the counter.
That made her break away with a yelp, "Leo!"
He stopped, alarm flashing across his face. His eyes flicked over her in concern, and then he backed away.
His mouth opened, but she cut him off with a wave of one hand, while the other rubbed at her back. "The counter edge is kinda… ow."
He grimaced, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Well, we can't have that…" Without any further warning, he swept her off her feet (literally! Eep!).
She followed her mental squeak with a much more vocal one, her arms flailing of their own accord to grab hold of his shoulders and neck. "Whatareyoudoing?"
He chuckled and pulled her closer. "Moving to a more comfortable place. Couch or bed?"
She blinked up at him, heart pounding in her chest. She clung to him as he shifted their grip on her back and under her thighs.
His breath came in harsh pants, but that was the only strain he showed from carrying her. His fingers tightened on her thigh, and his thumb stroked down the fuzzy material of her robe. "Well?"
April slid her arms around his neck, still clinging to him like a leech. "Couch is way too small."
He laughed again, and she loved the way that it shook his shoulders, and reached all the way down to her most intimate places.
He carried her to the bedroom, turning sideways so she wouldn't conk her head on the doorjamb. His harsh breathing only increased as they crossed the few steps from the door to her bed.
She watched the way his eyes dilated and contracted almost in time to his rapid pulse. His gaze flicked about her room, an automatic habit, but she had a feeling that his mind wasn't quite on his surroundings.
He set her on the bed, and then bent down to kiss her cheek, and then her mouth. He squeezed her thigh, and swept the robe away from her leg to give him access to the skin underneath.
Cool, calloused fingers stroked down her thigh and to her knee. She gasped at the sensation, not expecting them to have gone cold after such a short time.
Leonardo groaned, a soft grunt of sound that gurgled out of his throat, like a dog receiving a good scratching. He touched his tongue to her lips, and his hand slid up her leg. His fingers slipped under her bathrobe, moving it aside even more, until he could touch the softer skin where her leg met her hips. He pulled away from the kiss, his breath still coming in rapid gasps, eyes wide, body thrumming with excitement. His gaze tracked down to the hand resting on her exposed thigh.
She looked down, too, surprised to see her hands covering his. She stroked the green skin, right over the tendons on the back of his hand. She looked back up at him, smiling at the uncertainty on his face.
She released his hand to pull his face down for another kiss.
He shivered, but not from the cold. Then he bent down, knee braced on the edge of the bed, eagerly kissing her back. His bottom lip and tongue moved together against her lips, making her heart hammer in her chest with excitement.
She released his face to tug the knot loose on her robe.
He kissed her even more fiercely, and plucked at the shoulders of her robe, but he didn't tug it down.
She didn't wait for him. With a few shrugs of her shoulders, the bathrobe fell of its own accord, and she wriggled her arms free of the sleeves.
She broke away from the kiss first this time. She wanted his hands on her, not on her thigh, not on the bed somewhere. She wanted him to look at her. His eyes were closed, dammit!
When she grabbed his hand and shoved it onto her breast., though, his eyes snapped open, wide and alarmed, staring down at the fingers framing her soft flesh. His breath hitched, and he wriggled his hand against her grip. "Um..."
She laughed, released his wrist and kissed his snout. "Whatever happened to all that confidence you had in the kitchen?"
His brows twitched, and he took a deep breath, but didn't say anything. He pushed her back onto the bed with the grip on he had on her chest. He released her breast, and his fingertips stroked down her side, and his eyes followed his hand down the curve of her waist. His breath shuddered in his chest as he looked her over, and the expression on his face reminded April of how inexperienced he was (they all were) in this. He stroked a hand down her thigh, and then back up to the curly hair between her legs. He bent down, his breath hot where it washed over her stomach.
She took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm her racing heart. Her hand rested on the back of his head, and the other hand played over the back of his neck, the hard curve of his shoulder, the bone of his shell. "Leo…" she breathed.
His snout touched her belly; nuzzle, kiss, a bite. His teeth dragged over her skin, a pinch of exquisite pleasure.
She hissed, her fingers digging into the keratin, strange under her nails; clicking over the raised texture of his shell.
He panted against her stomach, tongue laving over her belly button. "There's my confidence."
She yelped, muscles convulsing and she flailed her arms around his head. The chill in the apartment air cooled the saliva on her skin, and she couldn't catch her breath.
His hands slid over her legs, cupping her bottom, tickling the back of her knees.
She squealed, "Leo!"
"You keep saying my name," he chuckled, but his breath trembled in his chest.
She laughed breathlessly. "You keep that up, and that's all I'm gonna say."
He lifted his head, but his lower jaw rubbed against her upper stomach. "You… want my hands somewhere else?" His fingers hovered at the dip between her legs. He didn't touch her, but she could feel his hand quiver against her skin.
She slammed her head back on the bed. "Leo!"
He snickered. "There you go again." He rubbed her thighs, his eyes wide, excited, but that little bit of nervousness still remained.
She wriggled her hips down into his hands. "Would you rather hear Raph's name?"
Leonardo jerked back at that. "What is with you and him?"
The words did not compute. She stared blankly at him for a long moment, his hands turning cold on her bottom.
He huffed, and pulled away. "You mentioned him last night, too. Said that he would have taken advantage of your drunkenness." He braced his weight on fists on either side of her, his eyes narrowed; suspicious
"I did?" She lay her head back, biting back the frustration that clawed at her throat and coiled in her nether regions. She scrunched her eyes close. "He would have," she said with a certainty she felt down to the pit of her stomach. She squirmed against him, hating the direction of their conversation. "He used to come over and hang with Casey, remember? They drank. This shouldn't surprise you. You learn a bit about a guy after a few beers."
His brown eyes searched her face, and then traveled down the length of her body. His breath evened out, only to quicken again. "It doesn't." His hands slid back under her thighs and he cradled her hips.
She closed her eyes, throwing her arms up over her head as his breath teased over her inner thighs. "God, Leo!"
He licked the inside of her thigh, and his tongue traveled down to her most private bend.
She covered her face; the anticipation eating away at her nerves, every muscle screaming for motion, her flesh for satisfaction. She couldn't breath, waiting for him to touch her, waiting for his tongue. A moan squeezed out through her fingers, and she lifted her head to glare at the turtle between her legs.
He watched her with an amused smirk. His breath warmed her, but it wasn't his mouth that touched her first.
She hadn't even noticed that one of his hands had vanished from under her bottom, until the blunt, uneven edges of a fingernail scraped against her groin.
She flinched, his fingers cool against her. Her hips moved into his finger, and she spread her legs a little more for him.
He wriggled his finger, his gaze shifting between her face and his hand. He planted another kiss on the soft flesh of her thigh. He played with her folds; careful, (nervous?) strokes that made her breath catch in her throat and her stomach clench.
He set his finger against the moist entrance aching for attention.
When nothing happened, besides a few wiggles, maddening touches across her most private areas. Frustrated, April lifted herself onto her elbows, mouth open to snarl at the turtle.
As if waiting for her to do just that, Leonardo met her eyes, and then pushed his finger in.
A squeal burst out of her mouth. She hadn't realized how big they were! At least, she's always known, but she'd never realized what it would mean. She'd never thought she'd be in a situation like this, would need to know.
Leonardo's finger moved in a careful rhythm, and it seemed to match the pulse of her heart. His mouth traced up the inside of her thigh, his brown eyes watching her intently.
She squirmed and her head rolled back again. The pressure between her thighs reached up her abdomen, and wove tight bands around her chest. She gasped and pressed her hand to her mouth.
He disappeared suddenly, but he didn't leave her bereft for long. Tentative. Not hot, but warm, wet. Leonardo's tongue pressed against her. Too big to fit, he teased her opening, drawing a torturous line from her groin to squeeze the pit of her stomach.
She squeaked and whimpered, and bit down on her fingers. She flailed out her free hand, clenching at the bed sheets. She couldn't stifle the noises coming from her throat. But why should she?
'I don't want to be something you regret.'
Wouldn't that be contradictory to what she was doing here? Didn't she want him to know that she enjoyed it? That she enjoyed him? What was she trying to hide?
She couldn't calm her breath, but she forced her hand down. She allowed the explosive bursts of sound out of her mouth, each one incited by his warm mouth and hot breath.
He seemed to appreciate her helpless whimpers and soft pleas. The touches became less inquisitive, more sure. Leonardo's hands slid up her thighs, cupped her knees. Back down to squeeze her bottom. He licked at her; his breath fast, excited. Eager.
She clawed at her breasts, wanting more than just his teasing touch. Her hand slid down, stroking over her stomach, the small bump of her abdomen that she couldn't seem to get exercise off. She found his hand on her leg, and stroked the back of his fingers, the tendons that stood out on his knuckles, covered by thick skin.
She could never mistake that texture for anything human. She wondered if she should be disturbed, but…
Had not the long years shown that he was a person, like Casey, like her, like Angel. That all the turtles were people, and their touch meant safety, friendship, care, concern. She found that the three fingers didn't make her any less comfortable than five; leathery skin not so different from a smooth, if hairy arm.
Leonardo closed his fingers gently over hers, and his thumb stroked her palm with a tenderness that was just so definitive of this turtle. His mouth moved over her, distracting her from her thoughts. His tongue slicked over the crease of her groin, one last time before his breath traveled its way up her belly.
She panted, laying her arm over her eyes as she recovered from his lavishing on her senses. She finally moved her arm to watch him move up her torso.
His weight pressed the mattress down under her as he braced himself on his elbow. He uncurled his fingers to release her hand, so that he might trace his blunt fingernails up her stomach, only to pause at her breasts. He touched the soft skin, and his gaze lifted from his hand to meet her eyes, as though he couldn't believe his privilege.
April smiled back, stroked his cheek. She lifted her shoulders off the bed to press a kiss to his round snout..
A sigh whispered out of his mouth, his mouth forming her name. Leonardo leaned on the edge of the mattress so that he could kiss her lips.
She could taste herself on him, smell it on the fingers that brushed her cheek, caressed her jaw. They trembled against her skin, perhaps the only remaining hint of the nervousness that had vanished in the child-like wonder of his eyes. The wonder of a man about to taste a woman for the first time.
Leonardo's breath shuddered from his mouth, and he settled more of his weight over her. He nipped at her collarbone, and her bare shoulder. His mouth traveled over her breast, and he caught her skin in a gentle bite. His tongue flicked out to play with her upstanding nipple.
She moaned and wrapped her arms his head, pressing him to her chest. She didn't want him to stop. She couldn't put her legs around his shell like she wanted, so she settled for rubbing them over his side, careful of the ridges that bordered his shell. While not particularly sharp, she had enough experience with catching them the wrong way to know that they were abrasive enough to leave scratches like rug burn, or even concrete.
He moaned, but not in passion. His snout wrinkled and he dropped his head.
She caressed the top of his head, over the arches of his brow. "Leo?"
"Crap." He looked up and embarrassment leaked out of the grin he gave her. "I, uh... I'll be right back."
She could only blink dumbly as he shoved himself away and left the room. What the hell... Then she heard the bathroom click close, and it hit her.
He hadn't used the bathroom yet this morning.
Her hand clapped over her face and she rolled onto her side to muffle her giggles into the comforter. Okay, kinda off-putting, but not entirely new. God, how many times had Casey pulled a stunt like this.
The toilet flushed and she could hear the faucet running. She had noticed some time ago how fastidious the turtles were about cleaning, but she supposed that came from a lifetime in the sewers where nasty infections could run rampant if they weren't handled properly. Not that they didn't have their lapses; they were teens after all.
She would be grateful for that, considering some of her former boyfriends' habits. She rolled onto her side, shaking her hair out in an attempt to make it at least semi-presentable. She settled her head on the ball of her fist, and idly played with the comforter, debating actually climbing under the blanket to escape the chill.
The bathroom door opened, and distracted her before she could follow through on that thought.
He came back into the bedroom, his hands brushing against his thighs to wipe the last vestiges of water from them. When his eyes fell upon her, however his steps faltered, if only for a minute. He let out a breath and moved again, but his eyes remained locked on her, and his breath came in hurried little puffs.
She watched him no less intently. Watched the way his muscles rippled and rolled beneath his skin. The way his skin absorbed the light rather than reflect it all back. Perhaps that was how a group of green turtles managed to be such good ninjas, because green just didn't seem to be a color that should blend so well into the shadows.
She sat up as he closed in on the bed, unable to look away from his muscular thighs. She reached out when he got close enough so she could put her hand on the cool skin of his leg.
His breath hitched in his chest, and he froze.
She looked up at him, smiling as his breath hitched again. Her hand glided up his leg, and she leaned forward to place a kiss on the textured skin.
The muscle flexed under her fingers, and she could see his fist clench by his side.
She batted her lashes up at him, all innocence. Her other hand made its stealthy way to hover over the back of his thighs. After a few seconds of searching her fingers latched onto his tail.
He made a sound in the back of his throat and went absolutely rigid in her hands. "April-!"
She kissed his thigh, and grinned mischievously at the way he choked her name. She played with the appendage, running it through her fingers. "Yes, Leo?"
His hand waved behind him. "That's um... that's..."
"A little sensitive?" She found something protruding from his tail, a little wet and slimy and she plucked it once.
Leonardo choked again and jerked away. But he didn't go very far with her hand wrapped around his tail. "Just a little!" he squeaked. "Um, April that's... that's..."
Then she realized what she had in her hands. She had spent enough time with the turtles to know a few of their less pleasant anatomical features. Like the fact that they... expelled wastes from a singleholeintheirtail... Oh shit!
Her hand yanked away, and her face burned. "Um, sorry about that, Leo."
He stared down at her, his breathing still heavy. Then he swooped down and kissed her.
She yelped, muffled by his mouth, as she fell back against her pillows. She caught at his arms, unable to do more than squirm under him in surprise.
His knee slid between her legs and one of his hands latched onto her thigh, pulling it up along his side. "I want you," he husked into her neck. Even as he spoke his hand traveled up her leg to the curve of her bottom. He nipped gently at her skin. His shuddering breaths gave the only indication of his nervousness.
She cupped his cheeks and made him look at her. She brushed her lips over his snout, his lower jaw. Touched her tongue to his chin. "Take me."
His eyes dilated, and he gasped, a normal sound choked off, turned strange to her ears. "Yes," he breathed. His fingers dipped between her legs, fingering her waiting heat. He kissed her chin, her shoulder, her neck, her ear. He couldn't seem to settle his mouth on any one area as excitement vibrated throughout his body.
He pressed his finger in, tentative, for only a brief moment.
She moaned, hands strumming up and down his side. April opened her legs wider still for the turtle, eager for more than these teasing touches.
He withdrew his hand.
She blinked up at him in surprise, mouth open to ask him what was wrong. Was he not planning on using his hand?
Then something touched her inner thigh. Slick and slimy, it slid upward, inward. Pressing against her, trembling in time with his excited breaths.
That was not a finger. She didn't even think it was a dick.
Too soft to be any kind of man-made device. It felt wrong. Slimy. It swelled, as though it would burst open any moment. And it was warm, when everything about his body always seemed to be so cold.
Alarm spiked through her entire body. She jolted, shoving and yelping. "Wh-What the hell is that?"
He tensed, and confusion furrowed his brows. "I... I think you know what that is, April."
What? She stared up at him, her chest heaving. She planted a hand on his shoulder and shoved him away so that she could sit up. She halted, stomach muscles taut, her weight propped on her elbow.
April gawked, her mouth hanging open, but she couldn't seem to do anything about that. Or tear her eyes away from Leonardo.
His tail hung free, swollen and painful looking. But that wasn't what had snagged her attention.
"Leo, what the hell is that?"
He shifted, thighs clenching, and his hands moving to cover the long purple thing that stuck out of his tail. He didn't respond, and she still couldn't tear her eyes away from it. Her stomach churned as she watched the tip swell and open, like some sick kind of flower.
"You have a tentacle."
He took a breath, perhaps to speak.
She didn't give him a chance. "You were going to put a tentacle into me. What the hell is that, Leo?"
"It's not a tentacle..." he began.
Some distant part of her thought she should be paying attention to his sudden hesitation, his uncertainty. It was screaming at her that she was forgetting something, and what that was was at the edge of her perception. But she couldn't draw her attention off the length of slimy flesh protruding from his tail.
"Like fuck. What the hell is it, then?" She found herself scooting away, pulling her legs against herself. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the thing coming out of her friend. "It's coming from your ass, and you don't think this should bother me. I... I can't. You can't expect me to actually..."
His hands clenched into fists, and suddenly he was a flurry of motion.
He rolled off the bed, and snatched up his swords.
She could only stare after him as he yanked the window open and launched himself out of the window. He didn't even seem to care how indecent he looked; his swollen bruised-colored phallus hanging free still.
April stayed huddled there on her bed, her mind churning with this new perspective on her friends. She thought she might truly get physically ill as she remembered that thing hanging from him.
She hadn't been expecting that. Not expecting it. Not expecting it at all! Oh god what the fuck was that?
Author's End Note: Do I need to start running now?
I am so pleased with the response this got! Thank you very much. 3