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Icy water hammered down on both of them. Leo was momentarily spared the stream of the shower head as Donnie pressed him plastron first to the wall. Aggressively kissing the back of Leo's head as he blindly scrubbed the soap loaded terrycloth between his partner's legs. Capturing his tail and pulling it through the sudsy rag.
Leo raised himself onto his tippy toes. Stump wriggling and left hand holding a bar of soap hard enough to leave finger dents.
Donnie pulled Leo from the wall by the top lip of his carapace and back into the stream. They collided together awkwardly, stepping on each other’s toes with hissed quips. Leo spun around. Lips met then slipped apart. The rag mindlessly wiped at Leo's shell. The bar of soap slipped over the outside of Donnie’s thighs. They kissed and it tasted like Irish Spring and sulfur. Donnie ran his wet cold hands over Leo's neck, squeezing, massaging, tapping. The ice water raged at them. It made their hands tremble and their bodies ache. Foreheads came together with trills of affection. A miracle neither of them slipped and cracked the other wide open.
The second the soap was gone they were racing to dry off. Bathroom filled with anticipation and a looming deadline for how much time they had before they didn't have privacy anymore. Without words Donnie took his towel and threw it around Leo's beautiful obsidian blue shell, pulling it back and forth over his carapace and forcing them to stand pressed together.
“Get my left arm for me too?” Leo asked, watching as Donnie obliged him.
They clip their towels up to dry. A task Leo watched Donnie do since his right arm was waiting in the bedroom. He spent that time holding the end of Donnie's tail, thumbing over the very thin tapered tip. In the hall they split off. Donnie grabbed another towel and when he returned Leo was flexing his right metal wrist. His tail down and the little strip of yellow on the back of it just visible under the bottom lip of his carapace.
“You or-”
“Bed.” Donnie’s tone was clipped as he folded the long heavy mauve and seashell decorated beach towel over hamburger style. “Now. On your shell. Stack the pillows up,” he ordered, his own tail (which reached his knee pits) twitched back and forth.
Leo did so quickly. Donnie placed the towel down where their hips would be and stood by while Leo positioned himself.
“Comfy?” Donnie asked. That hard carapace made any sex with Leo on his back complicated.
“As one can be after a shower like that,” Leo said, far too easy. He grabbed the edge of the towel curiously. “What are you planning?”
“I'm planning to not make a mess on our bed,” Donnie said, climbing in and walking on his hands and knees until he was hovering over Leo. Rubbing their foreheads together. Hazel brown eyes locking onto Donnie’s glowing magenta ones with a lopsided smile.
Leo held Donnie’s hips and pulled him down. “Should I be nervous-”
Donnie cut him off with fluttering fingers on his neck and chest. “Mildly nervous wouldn't be an unreasonable emotion.”
Leo churred and nodded. Eyes closing as he proceeded to make involuntary chuffs and squeaks as Donnie danced his fingers over his body.
“I can actually see the two parts of your brain playing tug of war,” Donnie mused, watching as he could turn Leo's arms to jelly that fell like dead weight to the mattress if he drummed along his lower sides. “Am I trying to mate with you Leon? Am I? Am I another slider making a move?”
Leo tossed his head back and forth in annoyance as his arms failed to work properly. “Oh please-” he was cut off by his own needy churring as Donnie piano tapped down his plastron. “-Tell me you're not just going to tease me-” he bucked as Donnie sat up and leaned back to tap and drum his thighs. “God dammit Donnie please please please,” Leo begged. Lower plastron. Upper legs. Pretty erogenous zones for Leo. Tapping the bottom lip of Leo's plastron was a banned move in the bedroom. “You know this drives me mad.”
“You do it to me all the time.” Donnie knew it was an unfair comparison. It didn't stop him from staring intently at Leo's tormented face while he did something as mundane as tapping his thighs with featherlight pressure.
Leo churred high and needy for it. Finding his arms again he started tapping the tops of Donnie’s knees and thighs. Right arm long enough to tap at Donnie's stomach and chest and back down again. Donnie hummed in response, tilting into the tapping. Leo was so desperate to confirm Donnie’s mating request.
As if that would get the show moving. What a silly red eared slider.
“It doesn't fill your body with bone deep tingling to get tapped a bunch,” Leo argued, voice trembling with it.
He was adorable. “Hush.” Donnie was being patronizing but he stopped tapping Leo's thighs and returned his attention to everything above the hips. With any luck Leo would soon regret this too. The towel wasn't placed down cautiously; Donnie had every intention of making Leo soak it whether he wanted to or not. “You're fine,” he whispered, tapping the slider's side and chuckling as his arms became dead, submissive, weight once more. “I'm only weaponizing a chemical response you have no control over.”
Leo let out a sharp single laugh. “How considerate of you-”
“I overheard your speech yesterday to the small protest in the food court,” Donnie cut in. “Announcing that food will be rationed wasn't an easy decision, especially as we want to prevent members from panicking. At the same time our food situation is extremely concerning.” To keep Leo from talking Donnie tapped at his lips and face for a split second. Enjoying how flustered Leo acted while half trying to shake his fingers away and preening into the touch. “Oliver raises good points, but there was no way around telling people that our rats are dying and the birth rates have plummeted to zero. From what I have heard people are nervous but their faith in leadership isn't shaken.”
Leo blinked a few times. His brain was catching up to Donnie’s words. As leader of The Resistance Leo had unfortunate tasks such as telling a diverse group of people that food is no longer something they can have free access to. Soldiers took it the best. Used to field rations and strict rules. The domestic portion of their group, parents, homemakers, specialty skilled laborers making armor and preparing food were all less understanding. Donnie even had a brave tech assistant ask point blank if there was anything to worry about and Donnie (once he recovered from the fact that someone willingly talked to him despite his reputation) lied effortlessly about all of this being out of an abundance of caution. Casey had the Dirkins Family trying to get information out of him, putting a rift between him and Woody. All that stopped after Leo’s speech.
Donnie’s Metalheads continued to work the rat farms. The meat production was veering into ways to preserve it once the breeding population collapsed. Rodent incest was at its worse first cousins, but soon things would get even more drastic. Donnie knew limiting the gene pool would only make those birth defects and infertility rates worse than they were now.
Leo, personable and trusting Leo, made everyone feel assured. Even Donnie, a member of their group that requires meat to live, felt reassured and he was down in the guts of their problems.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Leo said, coughing in the back of his throat. “It could have gone better had I-”
“I know it was hard to watch The Prayer Dogs seal their own fate the way they did last month, but you made them an offer and they refused. The loss of life is on Maximus Kong. Not you.”
Leo sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of what happened to the cult. He grimaced and looked off at the wall. The Prayer Dogs attacked a mobile group of humans and yokai under the reign of Maximus Kong. Leo offered safe haven for The Prayer Dogs’ children and non-combatives knowing that Maximus kills soldiers and enslaves domestic members. The Resistance had offered safe haven on the stipulation that they would only return members to the group that wanted to leave. The Prayer Dogs declined (knowing they would lose a huge chunk of their cult) and were offended Leo didn't offer to fight with them against Maximus. Citing the fact that Maximus would just be after them next.
“Maybe less about me and more of-” Leo cleared his throat and tried to gesture to the bed.
Oh but having sex was a distraction. A way for Leo to push everything down that bothered him. How awful that Leo was stuck with a partner that watched over every part of their camp and had ears in every room. Forget the buggy problematic world of AI voice recognition, Donnie had magic. There was no hiding from that. Every social folly Leo thought he had because something wasn’t said perfectly was recorded. Donnie used this to comb through every little thing that was bothering Leo. Tapping his face when he argued and forcing him to take all the positive feedback Donnie could relay to him. Leo was starved for it. His whole entire life he was denied it. Spending the first several months of leadership before the invasion trying to show Splinter he shouldn’t be leader so Raph could take the mantle back did permanent psychological damage to his twin. A game that indirectly led to the Kraang having a successful invasion, Raph losing his right arm, and Splinter dying.
Of course every decision Leo made was followed by intense self hatred.
By the time Donnie had exhausted his collected knowledge from the past few weeks Leo was hiding behind his hands. He pivoted to physical compliments. Had they not followed a novel of dissecting Leo’s diplomatic skills, the leader would have been able to cockily play along. Leo loved himself more than anything. Leo who had a selfie of himself as his screensaver when they were teens. From the outside Leo had more confidence than anyone on the planet.
Pinned to the bed every compliment broke him down until he was fully crying behind those hands. Forcing Donnie to kiss his knuckles between assurances that he was handsome. He was a beefcake. He made people laugh. His company was needed. He wasn’t a burden.
Everyone had forehead wrinkles in their late thirties and Donnie was going to kiss each one.
He wasn’t defined by a mistake he made at sixteen.
Seconds spread into minutes. Donnie brought down his partner with soft words murmured against his mouth. Tapping down the slider's neck with rough finger pads so calloused they clicked when fluttering over the lip of Leo's hard carapace. The uneven edge over his right shoulder a ghost of a memory long since healed. Leo stuttered and gulped down his own emotions. Steadying the bucket of overwhelming guilt and self loathing Donnie had passed from side to side. Donnie should shake this bucket more often but time hadn't been friendly to either of them.
Leo swallowed hard, eyes closed but not clenched as he took slow purposeful breaths through his mouth and out his nostrils. He mimed the slow purposeful breathing Donnie demonstrated. Together they breathed deep and slow. Thanks to Leo's birth defect his right lung was underdeveloped, like his right arm that had been normal size when he was one; Leo's right lung had been an okay size until he passed his early teens. They thought it was asthma when Leo struggled to catch his breath as easily as they did.
Wasn't until they were living in Nebraska that they finally did a scan and found the real issue.
A stunted lung was a lot harder to compensate for than a congenital limb difference. There wasn’t a prosthesis for that.
Bringing Leo fully back to a normal breathing pattern was mandatory. The last thing Donnie wanted was for Leo to pass out.
Donnie sat on his pelvis watching every twitch of Leo's face and counting his breaths. Long skinny softshell turtle tail gently wagging between Leo's thighs, brushing the inside of his bare yellow striped legs. The slider's shorter and thicker tail was seizing on the mattress, arousal filling the room to the brim.
They could drown in it if they tried.
Leaning close he placed kisses in the crook of Leo's neck. Drawing the skin into his mouth with a firm but quick suction, breaking it before it could hurt. Leo's crying was now firmly replaced with a low whine, his fingers barely holding the edges of Donnie's shell. Complete submission pressed into the mattress. If his grip stayed passive Donnie would let him move his arms.
"You’re being so good for me," Donnie whispered, lacing his fingers together behind Leo's head. Leaning down he nuzzled against Leo's temple; a softshell quirk. Clawing for dominance by trying to get Leo to submit and tuck his head in his shell.
Understandably Leo didn't want to pull his head in while tears were still leaking out of his eyes. The part of Donnie’s brain that made him do that didn't care. Once it checked that Leo still wasn't ready he automatically returned to his mate's neck. Pressing his bared teeth against the underside of Leo's jaw then moving to lip some skin into his mouth, holding it gently between his teeth then prodding at it with his tongue. Pulling up and letting the skin scrape through his incisors. Leo groaned and complained, entire body vibrating under Donnie.
This was what Donnie enjoyed most. The part before sex where he had Leo as putty under his hands and mouth. Where there was no second guessing about Leo finding the urges Donnie had weird or off putting. For instance Donnie put down aggressive kisses along Leo's throat, feeling the cartilage bulge and vibrate on his gums; he was warning Leo of something more intense to come.
Just to make sure he again nudged harshly at Leo's head with his own. Defiantly Leo arched his neck up and smacked Donnie’s right flank. Saying, “I can handle it,” in three damp smacks of his leathery carapace.
It was scary. It absolutely scared the life out of Donnie when Leo did it so he could see what it was like on the receiving end. Donnie already had the opinion that putting his penis in someone's mouth was giving them a lot of trust. He was not prepared for the way his brain had panicked with Leo's jaw locked on his throat. The knowledge that death was one wrong move away, that all he had to do was set off the animal on top of him. He had felt all his muscles freeze with instinct, his breath had gone shallow and weak. To feel so fragile and mortal in someone else's hands was something he craved as much as he dreaded.
Leo claimed that as a different species of turtle that the feeling was scary, frustrating, and mostly hot. That perhaps if he was a softshell too he would experience what Donnie had; terror so primal his body submitted instantly. Teeth in the right place could paralyze Donnie leaving him helpless to whatever someone wanted to do. In this case mate with him without a hint of fight.
The build was slow now that he had permission to close his jaw around Leo's exposed throat. Darting his mouth from one side of Leo's neck to the other. Leaving small flashes of teeth clamping on skin. A pinch. Another pinch. Leo flinching and grunting with each unexpected squeeze of Donnie’s jaw before the finale. Donnie tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth wide before sealing around his gasping prize.
The vibration of Leo's churr itched Donnie’s teeth. Bees exploded in his jaw bone and he felt- he felt a few Metalheads stumble into a few walls as his eyes rolled into the back of his skull. He came back to himself with Leo's whining connected to his tongue. His brother's Adam's apple bobbed from one corner of Donnie’s mouth to the other; swallowing hard between moans. Noise was coming from Donnie too as he threw his body against Leo's. Grinding their plastrons together, up and down with a deeper, harder, pressing against their pelvises.
The bed teetered with them, springs cheering them on, “Go! Go! Go!” They squealed over Donnie's rumbling churr.
Leo's finger pads dug at Donnie's carapace. Pulling Donnie tight to his chest when their weight dipped down and lifting him slightly up when Donnie rose to grind down again.
“Fuck! Him! Fuck! Him!” The springs cheered.
“Donnie!” Leo cried out, desperate for the madness to end. Neck sloppy wet with the indents of Donnie’s bite profile lingering.
Sitting up Donnie felt the soft pinkish purple penis protruding from Leo's slit behind him. His skinny softshell tail gently smacked into it once before being trapped between Leo's pinched closed thighs along with his cock. Leo's hands held Donnie’s bare thighs while he caught his breath. They paused there in the dimly lit room taking in each other. Donnie wasn't sure what Leo was looking at with such a love sick grin, reaching a hand around his back to blindly finger kick his dick turned that expression into an open mouth gasp.
He could be mean. He could dive right back to kissing Leo's neck and the side of his face and whisper sweet praise into his ears. Force him to cum by twisting his thighs together while begging Donnie for a little stimulation lower than his collarbone.
But he already made Leo cry once.
And hard.
At this point the blowjob was less sex and more aftercare.
The same fingers that were still fluttering over Leo's trapped twitching cock were taken away. For a moment Donnie splayed his fingers apart for both him and Leo to see the web of precum stretched between them. They were definitely going to need to change the sheets before Casey and Mikey returned. To get the taste of that thought out of his mind he stuck his two fingers in his mouth, fully soaking in the flavor and the mewling look Leo gave him.
“Donnie please please please please-” Leo whispered, hands frantically flapping up and down the tops of Donnie’s thighs. From second finger to thumb, teetering back and forth rapidly. Throwing out the strongest, “Please fuck me right now,” that he could. A choking man pointing to his throat and pleading for his life.
“Four pleases?” Donnie asked, having this much power was addicting. The only patron in the entire restaurant that knew the Heimlich maneuver. “Lucky you, any less and I wouldn't agree.”
Relief flooded Leo's face as Donnie got off of him. One position change later and Leo's wrists were pinned above his head against the mattress by Donnie’s shins. There would be bruises on both of them but the posing was too good to care. Donnie curled into Leo's groin, top of his head flattening Leo's tail to the mattress. Taking advantage of the way he could hunch his spine into a question mark dotted by his tail. Leo's thighs twitching where Donnie hugged them snug to the side of his head. He could feel Leo's quads flexing and relaxing against his deltoids.
Leo had a shovel headed cock that lent itself better to the sixty nine position. Curving down into Donnie’s throat. So smooth. So perfect. A spear headed gag to grip with his throat. There was the impulsive thought to churr until cum splattered out and up into his stomach. Somewhere behind him, still pinned, Leo had twisted just enough to grab both of Donnie’s feet around the arches. Digging his fingers into the soft sole of Donnie’s foot in a way that had his tail whacking Leo's face over and over again. Catching Leo's lips and his attempts to grab it out of the air.
With his heels Leo tried to slow the quick robotic bobbing on his teased cock. Bringing them up to press into the top of Donnie’s head. Every time his penis hit the back of Donnie’s throat his legs jerked out, unable to hold tight to his body. The first leg to give was the right. Old knee injury that still bothered him. The left followed as the blood in Leo's body rerouted to more important areas. Ones that were being tongued and throat squeezed.
At the very last second Leo managed to twist his left arm out from under Donnie's ankle and grab his tail. Unfortunately the full body churr that rumbled up Donnie’s throat was his undoing. Leo was only able to lock up on the bed as he came hard and throbbing under Donnie’s hard churr. Choking out when Donnie slurped and suckled the spent organ, taking feelings beyond pleasure solely for that illegal tail grab. He even endured the hard stinging slaps to his upper thigh as Leo complained about having already came, voice almost hysterical.
After a full twenty seconds of that treatment Donnie peeled away and collapsed up against the wall the right side of their bed was against. Catching his breath while Leo was still coming down from his intense orgasm, half propped up on his elbows and staring down at the ghost of Donnie still sucking up his shrinking overly sensitive dick. Donnie couldn't help but crawl over and kiss Leo's confused wet face. Still half cursing Donnie out for sucking well past the finish line. Donnie licked each blubbered insult up with a salty tongue and snarky after taste.
Finally they were basking in the afterglow of sex. Leo let Donnie push him back on the pillows so they could both marinate in it. No kissing now, just looking at each other and breathing in each other's warm air. Leo smelled good, like pine and spice coming from another room. He ran his thumb along one of Leo's red stripes, wiping tears away as he went. Maybe from the compliments. Maybe from where he sucked and slurped Leo dick after he was finished. The pain in his thighs sure told him Leo was desperate to get him off at the end.
“This was long overdue.” Donnie grimaced, he was not talking about the sex; but the emotional constipation Leo was suffering with. Leo was still trembling. Half lidded eyes staring intensely at him.
Which was a weird conflicting face to see on Leo.
Suddenly Leo grabbed Donnie’s wrist. Triggered into action by the statement.
"I can think of another thing that's long overdue," Leo said, voice raspy from crying both before and during sex. The grip on Donnie’s wrist turned to bruising strength.
It was the only warning Donnie got before his world flipped and he was instantly reminded he may be taller than Leo at seven foot five versus six foot ten- but weight wise they were equal.
That was without the heavy prosthetic arm. An arm that was now pinning Donnie to the mattress and spinning the ceiling.
The thumb (thankfully a smaller flesh and bone thumb,) pressing against the inside of Donnie’s tail had him rolling his head on the tear-dampened pillows. A high churr escaped his throat as he kicked his legs lamely behind him. Prehensile shell edge flapping on the instinct that he was on his shell and needed to right himself. Yes he could twist out of this, but it felt so good. The firm strokes tracing his slit back and forth. The metal hand splayed over his chest taking his goddamn breath away. His tail ignored the order to coil around Leo's hand as every lick of Leo's fingers sent his long tail into a wagging mess. The friction on the sheets building a noticeable warmth.
"Drop."
Donnie couldn't drop on command, but the growl rumbling through Leo was downright aggressive. His body caved in with a flinch of his pinned tail, cock bouncing out too eager for its own good and captured by a warm hand. The face looking up at him was dangerous. Glassy eyes and an evil grin, only made more terrifying when that look went from Donnie's face to his very sensitive dick. Darker than Leo's pinkish purple dick. The metal forearm Donnie was holding onto couldn't feel how hard he was squeezing but even if it could there was no stopping what was coming. Not after what Donnie had just put Leo through.
Fair was fair and thank goodness when it came to kinks there was a heavy overlap between them.
As someone flopping around on the ace spectrum; Donnie had a low sex drive for his own pleasure. He loved doing for Leo. Seeing his partner melt under his ministrations- the trust involved in sex. The fact that a major part of sex was being allowed to faux bite Leo in a way that probably felt like gambling with his life until Donnie pulled away. Donnie was drawn to those parts. The kissing and the feeling in his belly when Leo kissed back. The way Leo clawed at Donnie's carapace with his finger pads- not his nails. It was like a nice intense back massage. The mindless words that Leo sputtered out while coming in Donnie’s mouth or spilling through his fingers or shooting up inside him. Even without an orgasm sex with Nardo left him happy and assured that he was loved. What more could he want? He was highly romantic, not sexual.
A single pump of his cock had Donnie flailing under his mate. Leo said something. The tone was cute. Apologetic maybe as he stroked again with less grip. None of that made Donnie believe he would escape with a simple hand job.
Donnie didn't even masturbate. When would he have the time? If the urge struck him he pushed it down until it crawled back to whatever place it came from. Leo had mentioned that by doing this Donnie was unintentionally putting himself in chastity, which in theory could make the few orgasms he was having every year more intense. This was something Donnie never thought too hard about...
Until right now.
It had been months. Plural months. Actually as he felt his stomach turn queasy with each rough but welcomed tug of his dick- he realized while bleating like a goat with its head stuck in a fence that it had been five months.
“F-fuck!” Donnie stammered, forgetting Leo's metal arm as it was too strong to budge and instead switching to ball his fists in the sheets. Voice warbling in a desperate manner that would keep Leo doing exactly what he was doing.
Then he was jerked sideways, legs hanging off the bed and half the blankets swirling and twisting under Donnie’s seized palms. He had a second to register Leo locking his thighs to the side of his head before-
“Oh Donnie, you look too good to pass up.”
Leo's mouth was heavenly but painfully too much. Feeling too good too fast and burning up into Donnie’s spine. Tears blurred his vision and the ceiling started getting lower and lower. His heart was a painful fast thump under his plastron. He swallowed mid keening whine feeling an ominous lightheadedness build in the base of his skull.
Distantly he recognized that today his blood pressure had been pretty low. Having had a few head rushes where standing had him gripping workbenches or relying on his armor to keep him from falling over. Everytime his vision would fizzle into gray then fade back clear. Easily shaken off as he continued to work.
"Le-o!" Donnie attempted but words weren't wording right. His cry was met with sucking harder. Donnie’s toes fanned out and curled under.
Leo's finger started tracing under the base of his cock, pushing in slightly but not breaching into his cloaca.
“Yes!” Donnie gasped out his consent. Digital insertion wasn't something Donnie actively sought out. It usually stung and the feeling of being penetrated gave him an unexplainable rush of shame that could sometimes sour the entire encounter. To be stroked internally was deeply personal and not something Donnie was always open for unless he was this turned on.
At the moment he was on fire.
Leo licked at his slit under his throbbing cock. Tongue slipping in first as a small chance for Donnie to reconsider. All it did was make Donnie feel unworthy of love so pure and strong it would do all this, exactly as he wanted, just for him.
Maybe Leo wouldn't be the only one crying today.
The fitted sheet lost its grip on the corners of the mattress and suddenly Donnie was wrapping his upper half in a sex moist sheet like an old lady putting on a shawl to answer the door late at night. Leo's tongue and left hand milked Donnie's dick. All Donnie could do was feel the involuntary twitch in his legs in beat with the flare of his crazy looking softshell penis. Prongs pulsing. Finally Leo's mouth returned to his penis just taking in the head to run his tongue under his cock. Donnie’s prongs flared against the textured top of Leo's mouth. Reaching out the way someone trapped in a hole might hope to scale the walls.
Food was trickier than sex. While it was true for Donnie that horny was on the same wavelength as tired or hungry; ignored long enough it would go away. That also applied to the three things equally in Donnie's flawed opinion. If ignored: hunger, exhaustion, and horniness would all dissipate with little consequences. Disregard for the moment that ignoring food and sleep had real tangible effects such as passing out. Donnie never worked on the assumption he could get away with never eating or sleeping, he just knew how long he could hit snooze on those internal alarms, while horniness could simply be dismissed.
Leo pulled his mouth off Donnie’s dick and swirled his first finger (flesh, thankfully flesh) around the flaring prongs and folds of Donnie’s intricate softshell penis. Distantly through churring and almost tearing the fitted sheet snug around his chest he remembered Leo had a reason for lubricating his finger. In startling clarity that finger went inside him. Lubed only with precum it was a little too dry and the fit was tight. Donnie relaxed as much as he could, helped along by the rocking motion Leo put behind the invading force. A gently spoken encouragement that his finger was almost in gave Donnie the conviction to bear through it. War crimes would be committed for a drop of lube in The Resistance.
“Still good?” Leo asked when his finger bottomed out.
Donnie never felt more exposed in his life. Heart half racing from that alone. He wasn't mentally prepared to be the submissive one today but he found himself grabbing at the opportunity with both hands. “Very very very good.” Donnie didn't care that he sounded fragile. He was with Leo. He was allowed to be fragile and breakable and pried open- oh what was that finger trying to do??
That somewhat dry finger curled up, tickling the portion of Donnie’s penis that was still rooted in his cloaca. The throbbing was felt from his femurs to his naval line. Leo's oversized metal forearm pressed hard over his pelvis keeping his jerking hips from following Leo's finger deep inside. He might've cursed, he might have babbled, he might have thanked his eidetic memory because the next boring conference call he had to sit in on would just be this playing over and over in his head.
Leo opened his mouth and bit the inside of Donnie’s groin. The left side. Then the right side. Putting fear back into Donnie once more as now he was more than helpless. He gripped Leo's finger, body attempting to clamp off the intruder as he felt the teeth in the right side of his groin pinch hard. Made all the more terrifying by the fact that Donnie’s dick was hard and throbbing, weight leaned against the side of the face that was drawing blood from his flesh.
Violence definitely played a role in spiny softshell sex. Mating season must tint the pond water pink. Only Donnie could feel so deeply aroused by the situation. If Leo was a lioness gutting a water bison- then Donnie’s entire being was a tender baby animal trying to climb into Leo's bloodied mouth.
When Leo pulled away, air smelling of blood, he came back and held Donnie’s dick between his bloody teeth, immediately paralyzing him. Mind at war between Leo would never hurt him and breaking as teeth scraped the top and bottom of his cock just enough to hurt because Leo could really hurt him right now. It would be so easy . Donnie’s squeaks of panic were ignored. He was pinned tighter. The finger pressed up harder. The tooth only blowjob got faster. Scraping him painfully.
The plan was to go have dinner after some wonderful rare drawn out sex. Donnie had skipped breakfast like usual but lost track of lunch between a project to make nuclear bullets (that wasn't going well.) There was a possibility that he was feeling off from lack of food. A very troubling storm was building in Donnie's head and all he could do about it was hold the sheets tight around him.
The switch from all teeth to pure lips and tongue took Donnie out. He gasped something close to relief and the sudden lack of fear brought him to tears. He found his voice and babbled. Legs able to twitch and fidget again.
Leo's finger completely sunk into him. Donnie’s dick was being vacuumed up by sucked in slider cheeks and puckered lips. Leo's eyes closed in concentration. Bobbing his head and hooking his finger up in a well practiced pattern.
It was inevitable, even if Donnie wanted to savor it. Once the orgasm started it was lightning filling penis and a burning ring formed around Leo's wiggling finger. He felt the stiffening of folds and prongs, his semen rocketing into his lover's throat. Like a mousetrap Donnie snapped in half around Leo's head. Sheet forgotten and half on the bed half draped over the blowjob like a net thrown against the wind. Donnie felt the sharp tug of Leo's finger leaving his slit before it was pinched between him and the mattress.
Now both hands did to him what he had done to Leo. Locking his head onto Donnie’s extremely sensitive organ and continuing the stimulation.
With his voice undulating, Donnie managed a shocked, “Oh my god.” Struggling to suck a breath in while he clawed at the blue carapace his calves were still resting on; his toes were still curling and flexing behind it.
Leo's head bobbed and pulled everything out of him. What could Leo possibly be after? His spine? Was he trying to suck out Donnie’s spine? Why could he only repeat unhelpful words?
Time really slowed when it hurt this much and this way. Donnie’s whole body felt light and far away as he choked out a hard wet sob. Left hand loosely resting on the top of Leo's head. Feeling the hum and churr that was drowned out by his own higher one. This was love. Deep and pure. Holding him tight against everything. There was nothing outside of this moment that mattered more. Through tears he stroked Leo's head with a trembling right hand he barely had control of, mouthing a silent heavy, “I love you,” that Leo couldn't hear.
The brick wall on the other side of their room started to lose all details. All color. All feeling. He couldn't feel the texture of Leo's scalp. He couldn't feel why his body was desperate to get the stimulation on his dick to stop. He couldn't feel his legs that were fruitlessly pushing against Leo's shell. His hips were just a pleasant numb humming. His arms went ice cold and it jolted up his spine.
Shit- something was wrong-
“Leo I'm-”
His body was numb.
The world was gray.
The world was pitch black.
The world was still.
The world was gently smacking his face.
“What did you do?” The world was upset and amused by something. It had Mikey's voice and hovered above the bed.
The bed. The sex. The gray wall.
“Just keep holding his legs up-” another voice said. “Hey-, hey Donton. Time to get up. Mission successful, you gave me a heart attack. Congratulations!”
Right it was all coming back. He cracked his eyes open to find… their living room. At least the post-apocalyptic version they had cobbled together in this fortified Nebraska Airport coffee shop. Stained drop tile ceiling overhead. Blurry through the oppressive myopia frosting his vision. He was under a blanket and felt the idea of sweatpants covering his legs. The itch of a gauze patch on the right side of his groin. A distance burn in his cloaca sent up a flag. When his whole body shivered for a few seconds it took him by surprise.
“Thaaaaaat's a blood sugar crash,” Leo said flatly, standing above the couch and leering over Donnie. The lights were too bright. Leo dipped away and returned with a thirty milliliter oral syringe filled with something orange. Only identifiable as it entered the foot of space in front of Donnie’s eyes. He was practically blind without his magic correcting his sight. “Open up,” Leo said, putting the tip of the syringe to Donnie’s lips. “Mmmmm. Sugar and electrolytes. Suck it down, I know you can do that without a problem.”
As the plunger sunk down Donnie lifted his head enough to swallow. Some sort of electrolyte drink mostly used in medical situations. Like someone being so sick they're constantly dehydrated. The liquid was ice cold and soothing if he ignored the flavor.
“So what happened?” Mikey was floating at the other end of the couch still holding Donnie’s feet up by his ankles. Again the myopia made him a blur of colors with no way to identify his face.
Trying to activate his mystic powers for a little vision correction brought up nothing. Swiveling the mouse at a computer only to find the cord was cut. Somehow he felt heavier and the room got smaller.
Leo took the syringe away and sucked up more electrolyte mix from the mug he was holding. “I told you we took a shower together, to conserve water-”
“Sure,” Mikey smiled, it was in his tone. Baby brother always knew what the older ones were up to.
“It was an ice cold shower,” Leo said, practically giving away his cards. An unnecessary detail.
They only ever bothered to heat up water for Casey. Lukewarm showers were the only luxury afforded to The Resistance’s kids. A little culture had built where kids touted cold showers as an adult thing while babies still needed their water warmed up. As such Casey was pretty resistant to them warming up his water as if other kids would find out.
“Mmm hmm,” Mikey said, watching Leo tap the filled syringe against the edge of the mug.
“We took a shower, came to the bedroom to get dressed and he passed out.” Leo paused to focus on syringing in another mouthful of mix into Donnie. Even going as far to hold Donnie’s head up with one hand while Mikey kept the mug floating. Anymore aware of himself Donnie might have put up a fight over the babying. Weirdly enough he almost craved it. “Hey, what are you doing having a blood sugar crash?” Leo asked, maybe hoping to distract Mikey from the fact that Donnie passed out in the middle of sex. “When's the last time you ate?”
That didn't mean Donnie wanted to be the focus of scrutiny. He winced and felt his stomach awaken with a starving passion. A little bit of sugar, salt, and artificial orange had his digestive system metaphorically sending its own version of a bug report.
STOMACH - [Empty][Aching][Send Sustenance]
“The truth will upset me so you have chosen silence?” Leo plucked the mug from the air and glared down at Donnie. He too was dressed hastily with thrown on sweatpants.
Neither of them smelled of sexual fluids, but the pheromones were still clinging. Only Mikey and a few other yokai would be able to smell it but it was there. Even if Leo managed to clean up Donnie’s unconscious body.
As Donnie sat up he could piece together what likely happened. After passing out Leo would have made sure Donnie wasn't experiencing a medical emergency. A cardiac event, a stroke, some sort of hidden illness. Donnie could visualize Leo dipping into medic mode the second he went limp. Then Leo would clean and dress both of them enough to be decent. Leo was strong enough to carry Donnie out to the sofa. The distant rumble of the washing machine in the kitchen suggested Leo was doing their laundry. His twin had been busy covering up the evidence of what they did together.
With the help of Mikey, Donnie got his feet resting on the cement block coffee table and Leo took the blanket and put it around his shoulders. It was a blanket from the gift shop at this airport, found in storage when Donnie first started renovations on the place years ago. A blurry corn field with a huge tree on a sunny day. (All three of these things no longer existed. Corn. Trees. Sunny blue skies.) At the bottom of the blanket, where there was stitched chocolate brown soil there was a quote: “Nebraska… the good life.”
Casey always wondered who this Nebraska person was and why their life was so good. No one ever answered him correctly. Personally Donnie liked Mikey’s headcanon that Nebraska was the Goddess of Maize. Which was why people planted fields and fields of it, hoping to gain her favor. That was more realistic to Casey than a world where food grew in fields further than the eye could see. Also now they had a Resistance-wide holiday where kids decorated the airport with corn cobs every fall.
Life was weird.
“What do we tell people?” Mikey asked, sounding stressed out. There was a fight Donnie had been unconscious for. “All the Metalheads went down down.”
Leo handed Donnie the mug of electrolyte mix, deeming him capable of drinking it on his own. That felt like a lot of responsibility for someone who just got lost in their own head about corn. “That our resident genius is smart enough to run this place by himself but not feed himself regularly.”
The mug weighed four hundred pounds and Donnie had to use both hands just to get it to his lips. Something Leo looked mad about through stance alone so Donnie decided to examine the opposite direction. The other blurry wall. A fine choice.
“Sensing maybe there is something you two need to talk about.” Mikey looked between them while hiking his cloak higher around his shoulders. “I am going to see what broke and assure everyone that Donnie is… okay. I’ll make something up about maintenance on the Metalheads.”
Donnie nodded, still feeling woozy and dizzy. “I'll try to get the essentials online. I need a moment.”
Any Metalhead that was bipedal was on the floor. There was a reason Boston Dynamics took so long to perfect their two legged robots. Balance was an inner-ear phenomenon that animals just had. Through magic Donnie extended that to his own bipedal Metalheads. While unconscious he had unceremoniously yanked all their training wheels off. The quadrupeds were all still standing, their tasks frozen in time at the exact junction where Donnie fell away from the world.
Even more awkward he could feel various members of The Resistance trying to pull his Metalheads to safety. If he focused he could feel them whispering nervously over what could have happened.
Donnie groaned. He was never leaving his hanger again after this.
“While this has really inflated my ego,” Leo said, sitting down on the sofa next to him, “Giving you head so good that half our camp goes down with you- what the hell D?”
“I tried to say something but too much blood was in the wrong head… and not enough was left in the right head.” He tilted to the left and leaned against Leo. Too aware of the bone deep exhaustion still coiled in his center.
That big clunky metal arm wrapped around his shoulders. Protective, and worse; Concerned. “So I'm prescribing you food and water.” Leo's voice was airy and not to be argued with. “I shouldn't have to but I am enlisting Mikey and Casey to pester you to eat. Got it? You know how much time Casey spends with me he is trained in Annoying Donnie 101.”
“Understood,” Donnie sighed.
It seemed like the news was spreading that Donnie was physically okay. People and Yokai weren't standing over dead in their tracks Metalheads with pinched expressions wondering if the resident Robot Hivemind had collapsed under all the pressure.
Leo hooked his finger under the mug clutched in Donnie's hands. Helping it along to his mouth. He had the common sense to wait until Donnie swallowed to add, “And I'm prescribing weekly blowjobs.”
“Monthly,” Donnie coughed, the unmixed powder catching on the back of his tongue. When he mentioned orange flavoring he meant the color. This tasted like the color orange and was far from the fruit.
“One week off a month,”
“Bi-weekly,” Donnie countered. “I am biromantic, you have to take that into consideration.”
Biromantic solely because he liked the color scheme of that pride flag. He could probably say panromantic but the flag was so loud and when decorating his room as a teen he could not deal with that flag clashing against his purple techno cool color scheme.
“Bi-weekly,” Leo repeated, squinting at Donnie. “Or you could be normal and masturbate every once in a while.”
“Ew, never,” Donnie deadpanned. A shiver gripped him but it was unrelated. Sometimes Leo could pull arousal to the surface of Donnie’s mind like he had done today. While Donnie hadn't intended to receive pleasure he found being pinned by Leo had awoken the need for it tenfold.
That was not always the case. Sex wasn't always that easy or natural to Donnie and he knew Leo tried to be sensitive to that fact, but it probably felt like rejection when he attempted to give back and Donnie would have to shake his head. Leo was so incredibly gifted at making Donnie feel good, if anyone had earned a full access keycard; it was him. Yet most of the time the card came up red and buzzing. That's just how Donnie was.
He still enjoyed the intimacy of making Leo happy and then getting to cuddle. Sometimes Leo would rub his back afterwards or massage his scalp.
Bi-weekly blowjobs were a joke. It wasn't going to happen even with Leo promising to make it happen. A massive hit to his self worth to go from feeling almost normal in the bedroom to being broken again. Squirming in his stomach like he swallowed a live cockroach.
His body felt so weak. It floated by his brain to ask for painkillers but that would be admitting defeat. Besides sitting on the sofa leaning up against Leo was helping him feel a bit better. The metal arm was a heavy grounding weight.
“My arm still worked, even though everything else stopped,” Leo said, conversational.
Right. The last time Donnie was unconscious was the… incident with April. The encounter was violent. Leo's arm was removed in the fight before Donnie gave into severe blood loss. The metal arm was damaged so Leo never put it back on in the meantime. He had to immediately focus on saving Donnie’s life. Without cuing Leo in on his thoughts he moved the blankets to cover that huge scar he had on his chest.
“Your arm is... different.” He knew he should have told Leo sooner. As in he should have said something the minute he and Baron Draxum confirmed it.
Leo nodded. “That's good then.” He had no idea that it actually wasn't. “Because without it I wouldn't have been able to get pants on both of us before Mikey crashed in. Everyone freaked out about all the Metalheads going dark.” Leo was coming down from his own rush of adrenaline. “I'm going to ignore this during our next meeting and then wait for Evan, god, fuck Evan man- every meeting that guy has forty barely on topic questions. I'm sure he'll ask about the Metalheads crashing and why everyone needs to be brought into the loop.”
Okay so maybe for decency sake he was happy Leo had been able to bandage his groin, clean the bedroom, dress both of them, and come up with a semi plausible lie for Mikey. He wondered how much of this his wearable Metalhead suit, triple zero, captured from its position in the kitchen. Likely Leo running around positively ranting that Donnie was an idiot who should have spoken up sooner. Then his brain caught up with what he was daydreaming about and he realized Metalhead 000 didn't record anything. It was as unconscious as Donnie.
Oh Isaac Newton! The security logs were about to be a mess!
“What's up?” Leo asked, as Donnie’s irritation had him fidgeting.
“I can vaguely feel hundreds of me being moved out of the way and pawed over.” He shook his head. The momentary rest was nice but he needed to face the consequences of his actions. “I should… get them moving.”
Leo shook his head and tightened his hold around Donnie’s shoulders. Completely unnecessary as Donnie was too weak to move despite his claims of needing to get up. The sofa was a magnet and he was lead. “We can survive a day without you. Lay back down-” he started to say, frowning as he leaned forward and Donnie went with him like deadweight. “Can you even make a fist?” He asked, taking hold of Donnie’s hand.
Donnie proceeded to make the most pathetic fist in the world. Fingers barely curling around Leo's.
“Heyyyyy, guess what?” Leo said, all cheerful through clenched teeth. “After dinner you're going straight to bed. It's soup, you love soup.” Donnie loved pre-invasion soup. “I'll have Casey get the soup ration and bring it home. You are ordered to eat soup and go to bed,” he said, taking his metal arm away and flipping open the panel on his forearm to shoot a message to Casey. “Have I told you how much I love the upgrades you made to Casey's mask?” he said, referencing the fact that they could now text and call Casey through his mother’s old hockey mask.
Everything felt so awful and the concept of soup sounded too heavy. He missed chicken broth and unseasoned omelets that Mikey used to make him on hard days. That’s all Donnie was experiencing these last few weeks. Overwhelming days that had him cowering in his hanger frustrated with his flesh and skin. Chunky soup with stringy vegetables was not welcomed. Cockroach crackers would never be the right feeling in the back of his throat. Even the powder mixed beverages that didn’t fully dissolve in water were pissing him off. He couldn’t believe people were complaining about rations when some days the only reason he choked down all of dinner was for Leo’s silent approval.
“I was going to wait until his fourteenth birthday but I thought he'd need practice before you took him on a real mission,” Donnie mumbled. He eyed Leo's metal arm. Maybe he could will it with his mind to go back around his shoulders. He was feeling clingy.
As in he wanted Leo to cling to him. A very specific variety of clinging needed to be applied or else he was going to do something inappropriate like cry. His emotions were all crowded in his throat where they weren't authorized to be. Where was security, he thought a bit manically, to push these feelings back behind their barricades.
“He is so excited,” Leo said, taking the bait to talk about Casey. Leo loved to talk about Casey, it was like a hobby of his. “You know he chose Bōjutsu because of you?”
Incorrect. “He chose it so he could adapt it to his mom's hockey stick.” That’s what Casey did when Donnie’s projects in the hanger were a little too dangerous for a child to be helping him with. He let Casey try out his various Tech Bo prototypes. The kid loved to help Donnie research target practice, which was just Donnie’s way of getting Casey to blow things up or set something on fire and pretend it was data collection. That’s what Uncles did right? Took kids out into the wasteland and blew random things up. He was pretty sure as the not-parent that was his role. Along with giving Casey a mask that allowed him to pull up all of Donnie’s notes (with limitations) on each member of The Resistance.
That was definitely an age-appropriate gift for a nearly fourteen year old.
It still had all the pesky requirements Leo wanted. Waypoints. Pathfinding. Emergency beacons. Communicator. Yadda yadda.
“Sure sure but come on,” Leo goaded, still not putting his metal arm back around Donnie where it should be. “What kid doesn't want swords or nunchucks?”
“He has a grappling hook,” Donnie pointed out with no intention of being helpful right now. As for the swords it could be a little daunting to pick up the weapon his teacher was a Master in. “He knows only my Bo shoots missiles right?”
“Absolutely not.” Leo said it with a grin and then shrugged. “But hey, who knows maybe he'll get some of that Hamato Ninpo like April had. Then he could, I don't know, have a hockey stick combined with a chainsaw. You saw that drawing right? You saw that. Please do not make that- Donnie look at me and tell me-”
Even though his vision was too blurry to identify her photo on the shelf in their living room, Donnie still looked that way. The ninpo conversation was testy, but Donnie knew Leo meant that Casey having the Hamato Ninpo would give him more protection… and possibly a very dangerous hockey stick. The conversation about Time Gateways came down to anchors. While they could theoretically go through a Time Gateway and potentially stop the invasion before it began they would not be erasing this timeline. They would be leaving it behind to continue on without them.
There was also an added complication.
The only one who could make that hypothetical gateway was Mikey. The only ones who could go through it were those with the same ninpo signature as the creator of the gateway. Mikey's Ninpo; The Hamato Ninpo.
Raph said he would never ever want to leave Cassandra behind. April could never abandon her wife Sunita. All four of them were now dead.
For Donnie, Leo, and Mikey assuming they could still make the gateway without Raph or April and survive it… how could they leave Casey behind in a wasteland? A doomed wasteland that had them rationing food and staring down the barrel of a slow death. They were never going to win against Kraang. The invasion took them by total surprise in 2020, by the time they had seen the surface there were three technodromes over New York City.
He would never admit to Leo how dark his thoughts were lately. There was something so selfish about putting his mental health as Leo’s feet when he had things that were so much more important to deal with. Their food. Their relationships with friendly and unfriendly groups. The looming threat of Maximus Kong as his army now outnumbered The Resistance by four times. How was Donnie supposed to explain that taking care of himself was as pointless as dusting a room before planning to set it on fire?
Instead of letting any of that hopelessness surface where it could only hurt Leo he swallowed it down. Appetite gone again. A selfish want to lay in bed festered in the back of his head. A pluck of self hatred vibrated between him and the image of his own father stuck in bed for days. Ignoring the world because he couldn't see tomorrow.
Depression. Was it in his blood? How ironic to be infested with the very thing that made him hate his father.
“I don't want to reconnect the Metalheads when Casey is here.” Was all Donnie said. The process was painful and he would need Mikey to help him stay conscious through it. He expected to reconnect then spend a full day being as horizontal as possible. Which meant bed. Sleep. Escape.
He pushed down the feeling of being eleven and begging Splinter to help them search for Leo when he went missing during a blizzard. Standing in a stale room thinking there was some combination of words that would make their dad stop staring at a blank wall and help them.
Leo sighed. “Then you can do it tomorrow after we leave. I'm taking him to Alaska for a few days to check out Anchorage.”
“Why Anchorage specifically?” Donnie asked, desperate to peel away from his own thoughts.
“There is a rumor that the city of Anchorage had collapsed due to disease,” Leo said, repeating something Donnie vaguely remembered hearing about. “Something highly contagious that had everyone convinced there was no safe way to be in the city. It was completely fortified and most importantly there seemed to be animals alive and well within the walls even after all the humans died. It could be that the bio-engineered weapons the Kraang released to cause infertility issues in mammals haven’t yet reached Alaska. The temperature might be too cold. If that’s the case we could potentially start a farm there or bring the animals back. Either way, Casey and I will be after all the normal things. Medicine. Non-perishable food. Clothes. I know most groups do not have the fuel to make the trip there, but if one of them does, I want us to be in and out before they reach the city’s gates.”
Donnie listened as Leo talked about all his hopes for Alaska. Anchorage had been the state's largest city. There were hospitals, and that alone could make the trip worth it. Half the reason Leo was going was because it would be something he and Casey could do together. Explore an abandoned city. Collect samples.
The animal situation was most pressing. Animals, insects, and plants. They were in the chapter of the world where food was running out. A pessimist might point out that those chapters are near the end of the book, right before everyone dies or the heroes win against all odds.
“You'll be careful?” Donnie asked.
Leo sputtered indignantly. Now putting on a front that they both could cower behind. “Always. But back to what I really want to know: How is my arm different?”
“It's…” Donnie trailed off, Leo was still just out of focus but he noticed the way he was being stared at. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It's been a long time since I've seen your eyes. They've been glowing magenta for years now.” He said, sickeningly fond. Donnie did have unique eyes, the right was red and the left was blue. He remembered his old goggles used to reflect that trait of his. It was one of the rare things he liked about himself. “What is different about my arm?” Leo pressed.
“I... my armor moves with me because I can subconsciously tell it what to do,” Donnie explained, in simple terms. The magic behind all of this was ridiculous and he was more frustrated that it worked at all without his complete understanding. “I can't know your subconscious train of thought to move your arm, so I did something I have yet to understand the full gravity of.”
See that sounded so much better than saying he stumbled onto a duct tape solution?
“Oh. How so?” Leo asked.
“I might have connected our souls.” Donnie said, focusing on the empty mug and missing that awful powder mix. “I might have intertwined our magic in an irreversible way. I might have done something that could seriously harm one of us if the other dies- and more so I am worried the magic I used at best gives us an equal push pull exchange and at worst would potentially let me drain you of everything.”
Not knowing how Leo would react to this always bothered Donnie. They had taken one single step into the topic of feelings for each other going farther than brotherhood when Donnie did a mystic Hail Mary with one of Raph’s earlier prosthetic arms from when he was seventeen. Still way too large for fully grown Leo but the best they had.
“Like a mystic leech,” Donnie added.
Today had been a good test of that theory. He hadn’t subconsciously drained mystic power out of Leo as he fell unconscious. He had conscious control over the connection but the door was far less secure than the one he and Mikey had established many years ago. Where energy could be given away and welcomed in with only both of them unlocking those doors. Donnie could feel the secret backdoor he had installed into Leo. How wrong it was on principle.
“It's not like Sheldon,” Donnie said, as Leo stayed eerily quiet. “Who was independent,” he specified stiffly. The mention of the drone didn’t bring up grief anymore. Just the same emptiness he felt looking at their life pre-invasion. He missed Sheldon but he didn’t belong here. “It's not like the Metalheads who are completely dependent,” he took Leo’s metal hand a little desperate to find out if he was ruining something. “I…”
“I know my right arm wasn't port friendly like Raph's,” Leo said, squeezing back.
Donnie winced. “Not your fault.”
“I didn't say that it was,” Leo snapped.
They were toeing a fight. Leo took a deep breath and Donnie continued to speak but jumped away from the port specifically. “In hindsight making your original arm a convertible gun did lead to our enemies targeting it.”
“Hey better the arm that was already fucked up.”
This time Donnie let the words hang in the air. Looking back he wondered if making Leo his first arm without asking beforehand when they were eleven crossed a line. That Donnie had unintentionally told Leo that he understood he could still use his stunted arm- he would just be better if he used the new one Donnie made him. He wouldn’t have to reach. His clothes would fit without modifications. He would be more symmetrical. He could use two swords instead of one the way Lou Jitsu preferred.
Just like Donnie’s battle shell wasn’t supposed to make Donnie feel weak for having a softshell.
Only it did… over time it really did.
Because Donnie got treated differently depending on whether or not he was wearing his shell, and the same went for Leo regarding his arm.
“While that arm was very stunted, having a working wrist joint, thumb, and two fingers made everything easier.” Donnie had a very tough time making Raph’s arm for this reason, he was spoiled. “Your prosthetic was a glorified video game controller. We didn't have time for a port to heal. That desperation led me to magic.”
The game controller was not an analogy. Leo’s first arm was literally controlled entirely by an old modified Atari joystick with a button on the top and a few on the side. The hard part was keeping all the gears in Leo’s wrist from jamming.
“Wait, so are we like married then?” Leo asked out of nowhere. “D… I'm flattered?”
Donnie blinked. “This is serious.” The implications should really worry Leo. Before they weren’t even officially together past admitting feelings when Donnie irreversibly entangled their magic. That was permanent.
“I'm being serious!” Leo lied, taking his arm away from Donnie to admire it. “Gosh you couldn’t put a ring on me so you put an entire arm? I feel like I’m blushing a little bit. Am I blushing?” He asked, fanning his hand out under his chin.
Donnie squinted at the blurry face of the turtle that should be way more upset. “You're not mad?” he questioned.
“Why would I be upset?” Leo asked, leaning in close so Donnie could see his unconcerned face. The expression bordered on smug for some inexplicable reason. “The only issue I have with the Metalheads is that you being unconscious disables them. If I'm unconscious my real arm isn't moving either,” he pointed out.
“What happens when I die?” The second he said it he wanted it back.
A blink and he’d miss it kind of expression sped past Leo. “We're never finding out.”
If he felt split open in the bedroom earlier the feeling was dwarfed by this. Leo was staring at him intently, searching Donnie’s practiced stone expression. Maybe he saw Splinter in him, losing a battle in his own head.
“Raph said the same thing, you know.”
“We'll talk about that later.” Leo leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees with his hands hanging loosely. “I agree it's concerning but, if you die, my arm not working will be the last thing on my mind.”
Donnie wouldn’t pop that bubble. Casey anchored them from using a Time Gateway. Leo anchored Donnie from letting despair eat him alive. There was a reason Leo was leader; he would still have a plan in his last second alive and he would believe it with all of his heart. He would believe Anchorage had something for them that could turn the war. He would believe Maximus Kong could be reasoned with despite the troubling information they had collected. He could look at the shelf in their living room that they could no longer put food offerings on and believe there was still a future the dead would have been happy to see.
Leo’s arm beeped. He looked down and typed back then after closing the panel leaned over and gave Donnie an unexpected hug. Squeezing him tight and rubbing his chin on the top of his skull. Slider scent glands to tell the world that Donnie was his, as if anyone else would want him.
“I really pulled your soul out through your dick and blue screened the entire robot side of our camp?” Leo asked, distractedly as he continued marking Donnie's skull. “I knew 2041 was going to be my year.”
Donnie pressed his lips into a firm angry line.