Leo absolutely loves summer. Sweltering late nights leave the city more alive than usual and Hidden City beaches make trekking smoldering sidewalks all the more bearable. He doesn’t look as tacky wearing shades in broad daylight and the sun always seems to flare the blades of his katanas just right for whatever flashy display he wants to have in battle that day.
The sight of a sweet, baby blue bikini hanging off his bestie’s curves is just an added bonus. Hanging is definitely a word, especially when he’s sure that one push too hard will knock the knots keeping the fabric up loose enough to give him the best sight of his life! Each run and jump leads to a bounce that makes his heart leap in his chest.
If you told him you’d paid the sun to shine down the perfect lighting to enunciate all your features, he’d believe you. Every angle is the perfect angle of you from where he’s settled to sunbathe. He can barely focus on working on his tan.
The gang’s forming a silly game of volleyball. Mikey and April are arguing over how to set the net up and you’re tossing the ball in your hands as you chat about whatever with Raph. Leo’s attention is stuck on the way your laugh rings out at his older brother’s corny joke. He’s so distracted by the melody, he hasn’t realized he’s being summoned to join.
Between quips and tricks, Leo’s thanking the high heavens for allowing him to ogle so closely. He doesn’t even care about the dirty, knowing looks his purple-clad twin shoots his way between rounds.
He could die happy wrapped up in your arms, tugged to your chest and churring to the beat of your heart.
Leo really loves summer. Anyone else would expect the lair to be sweltering from the unbearable heatwave, but Donnie is always sure the lair is decked with state of the art, next level air conditioning. The non-inhabitants pop in and out like it’s their home, glad to be out of the suffocating air and in the refreshing breeze. Raph fusses about their gear lying about and Splinter’s traumatized the masses with bulging pink skin.
His head is nestled into your side, squished between the plush of your body and the hard metal of your laptop. There’s a body of text glaring back at you, but his eyes are more concerned with the way the lighting illuminates your face. You’re sleep deprived from the bundles of school work for the term and longer shifts at a dead end job. Your only reprieve’s been the spontaneous summer plans your group’s tumbled into.
He thinks the bags under your eyes make you even more kissable. You spend even more of your time here, preferring the WiFi setup over the loneliness of your apartment. Your constant presence in his bubble makes his space feel all the more domestic.
“You’re like a cat,” His bestie mumbles and his face grows really hot when he finally notices the familiar feeling of deeper vibrations in the lower sections of his throat. The silliest of heavenly noises escapes your lips and your fingertips lightly trace over his red crescents. You know their curves like the back of your hand. He wants to bury his face further into your side and nip at the skin under your crop top.
Later, you’ll both be jumping on his bed and screeching the lyrics to whatever song you’re both obsessed with this summer. Your grin will be the sweet cherry that lights his heart ablaze.
Man, does he want to grip your cheeks between his fingers and press his lips to yours-
God, does Leo love summer. The fireflies light up the outskirts of Coney Island and it’s impossible to see lighthouses from the pier. The air holds remnants of music bumping from rooftop to rooftop and there’s always a crisp stench of partygoer.
He can hardly care when you’re both settled at the top of the biggest Ferris Wheel, looming over the sights of the other fair goers. The others are stuffed into the booths in front and behind, voices just barely reaching your ears.
It’s hard to make out the stars in the sky, but the wheel’s high enough you can see their reflection in the murky waters. They had plans to light sprinklers by the wayside a little after this.
He’s so lucky, this is so lucky, he thinks, to get the whole booth to themselves. It’s smaller than when they’d been two dumb teenagers sneaking him in with a horrible disguise and tackily bright basketball shorts. A third person could’ve fit, maybe even a fourth, but his eldest brother is a pretty cool wingman.
The test fireworks have started, with little bursts of red and blues lighting the sky. It leaves stains of gray smoke among the clouds, quickly followed up with another set of tiny balls of fire and chemicals.
It easily brightens your irises, leaving you both just as entertained as the years before.
You’re happily yapping along about whatever’s on your mind: upcoming assignments, tiresome shifts at work, some rooftop party that’s interspecies welcome-
And Leo just wants to tug you into his hold and kiss you until you can’t breathe. His eyes trail the outlines of your lips, noting how they’ve moistened up since you put on chapstick a bit ago.
“Lemme borrow some,” It’s always some summer-y flavor, “Your chapstick,” Like a berry or some flowery breeze.
“Oh, yeah,” Sometimes it stains them a soft color, “Let me tug it out-,” Sometimes it gives them a soft glossy look.
“No,” He wishes it was smooth, between letting his thumb rub over your bottom lip after he tugs you in, “I got it,” Or his cheesy one liner before he leans in and finally presses his lips to yours.
But none of that matters when he feels how soft they are, wrapped around his and easy to nip with his teeth. When the explosions going off in his brain seem to move in time with the fireworks popping above them. When the chatter of the crowds seems to dim to a small lull in the air.
‘God’, Leo thinks as he pulls away and catches sight of the dazed look in your eyes. They’re inching towards the end, but he doesn’t want to hop off this high, ‘I love summer!’
