...Robbie stared at him with an unreadable expression. Stars, Donnie really, really wished he could read their expression right now. That's two reallys.
Without warning, they grabbed his hand and pulled him quickly down the hallway, not stopping until they'd both rushed into a utility closet and Robbie had locked the door behind them.
"You didnt tell me they were mutants!" They whisper-yelled urgently.
Donnie felt something heavy and cold settle in his gut at that. "What does that matter?" He said.
Dangit, he'd meant to phrase it as a question, but forgot the tone and it just came out hollow and flat. Damnit Donatello.
"What does it- What does it matter?" They gestured frantically around them as they spoke. "Donnie, they're dangerous! Mutants are dangerous! You could've gotten killed!" Robbie retorts desperately.
He froze. Looked at them for a long moment.
Then shakily reached up to the cloaking brooch and pulled it off, hugging it tightly to his chest as the magic concealing him swirled away.
"...Robbie. I'm a mutant."
---
Dialogue is from a tiktok we saw in a youtube compilation that stuck with us, if anyone knows the artist please let us know so we can properly credit them!
A little snippet of something we might write more about. We couldn't find any cloaking brooch angst that just hit right, you know? So I decided to write some myself. Let me know if you like it and want to read more!
summary: April has some fun with her boyfriend, Leo, after a while of being busy with school.
April was almost on the last page of the history book she was assigned to read. It'd taken her a little under an hour, which she thought was quite impressive, given the distracting state of her bedroom. She rubbed the page between her fingers as she casually stretched her leg out, foot soon meeting the softly buzzing vibrator that'd slipped a little too far out of her boyfriend's pussy. She pushed it, ever so slowly, back in, feeling it twitch as Leo tensed, then relaxed with a whining keen. Her foot met the mess of slick he'd made of himself, and April's fingernail left a small scratch in the paper at her first touch to his heated groin.
She swallowed, saliva thick in her mouth, and kept reading; ignored his little whimpers, small and choked, cut-off, as he tried to keep still for her, tried to be good for her.
He'd tried to be quiet for her the past hour while she focused on her homework, even when she teased the settings of the vibrator, cutting off moans and keens that'd made it hard for her not to sneak a glance, that had made it even harder to not to give in and take him right then and there.
His hips twitched, more violently than they'd done before, and she could feel him bear down on the urge to rock into the building pleasure, planting his feet into the mattress, toes curling as if trying to find something to hold onto when his hands couldn't, bound together to the headboard as they were, the sheets crumpling and pulling, snagging on the back of April's feet. The words on the page were barely more than almost-recognizable letters to her mind anymore. She heard more than saw him bite down on his gag as he choked down another delicious whimper.
She couldn't help herself – she looked.
Leo's scales were aglow, sweat glistening under the light. His bound legs quivered, trembling in a way that invited, ropes digging just tight enough into his thighs, overflowing and enticing. His cunt leaked, slick coating its puffed edges and the curve of his ass, his tail positively soaked in it, the sheets underneath well beyond ruined. His cock wept, a puddle of precum pooling steadily on his abdomen. Drool slipped past his gag.
April snapped her book close.
His eyes opened at the noise, meeting hers across the valley of his body. Anticipation surged, humming through the air like electricity.
"All done," she said, her eyes never leaving Leo's. She waited a breath, then smiled. "You've been so good for me, haven't you, baby?"
He keened, loud and wanting, the sound like music to her ears, and nodded. She chuckled, and his legs twitched, like they wanted to spread already, but he kept them firmly in place.
April put the book off the bed and shifted closer to Leo, mattress dipping under her weight, until she was seated right between his legs. Her favorite spot. She’d gladly drown between them any day.
Her fingers brushed his thigh, then cupped it in her hand and squeezed softly, the supple flesh molding to her touch. It was intoxicating, the heat of his scales on her palms, the way he pressed softly back against her, craving her touch as much as she craved him.
She took hold of his other thigh, squeezing and releasing softly, massaging her way slowly down. "Good girls get rewards," she said. He trembled, and April held him tighter. "Let Mommy take care of you, baby."
She gently pushed his legs further down, until they were almost pressed flat against the bed, spreading him perfectly for her. She licked her lips at the welcoming sight. The vibrator was still steadily buzzing in his cunt, but April had no need for it anymore. A wet squelch bounded around the room when the pulled it out. She clicked it off and tossed it somewhere behind her. She didn’t care where it landed, she had better, more delectable things to focus on.
April lowered herself down, bending until she was almost touching Leo’s pussy. She let her excited breaths fan over the bright, almost painful pink of his folds, mimicking the ghost of a touch. She heard his breathing hitch and pick up.
She pressed a few wet kisses to the inside of his thigh, biting down hard enough to leave her teeth indented for a little while after, but not hard enough to mark. She suckled on his skin, determined to leave a bruise, preferably more than one, the jerk of his muscles and his bright, though muffled, moan made her grin against his scales.
April's kisses moved inward, until they met his twitching folds, and she licked a long stripe upwards, flicking her tongue against his clit, dragging another moan out of him.
"God, I missed tasting you," she half-groaned, squeezing him tighter. "You taste heavenly." It was like nectar, something she would never get enough of. She didn’t even have it in herself to tease, diving right back in.
April kissed her way down the wet edge of his inner folds, occasionally nibbling at his swollen outer lips, and planted an open-mouthed kiss right over his entrance, before plunging her tongue into his stretched hole.
Leo convulsed. A knock rang sharply, making April freeze. The knock could mean he'd accidentally hit the headboard because of the sudden spasm, or he needed to tap out. She pulled back immediately, propping herself up to look at his face. "You okay, sweetheart?"
He nodded.
"Do you want me to stop?"
A quick shake.
"You sure?"
He whined and bucked his hips, nodding fervently, turning wide, pleading eyes to her. April laughed lightly, endeared, the fire that'd turned to a simmer now back in full blaze. "Okay, baby, don't be too impatient now."
She kissed along his labia, sucking at the lips, digging her tongue between them to swipe up as much of his slick as she could. She massaged the outside of his thighs, sliding her hands down as her mouth traveled up. She mouthed, then sucked, at his clit, grabbing his hips to keep him down and steady, nails digging into the supple flesh of his ass. He keened, grinding back against her mouth.
April wasn't sure how long she spent eating him out, but it didn't take long, a minute maybe – way too short, for her liking – for Leo to come, already so pent up from his hour-long stimulation. She felt him tense and grabbed onto the base of his cock, squeezing tight, as he came. Slick gushed out of his cunt, and his cock gave a hearty twitch, but with the pressure April put on it, only a bit of cum spurted out. It dribbled pathetically down the tip of his length and joined the puddle of precum on his abdomen.
April wiped the excess of slick off her chin as well as she could as she watched Leo collect himself; his chest heaving, face flushed. And she’d thought she wouldn’t be able to get any wetter. Leo looked almost debauched – almost. Not nearly enough, and that just wouldn't do.
April wanted more. Wanted him to come apart completely, to twitch and tremble and cry as he took what she gave.
April pulled off her top, didn't shiver even as her sensitive nipples met the comparatively cooler air. Took off her shorts and panties at record speed, tossing them away without care, not looking where she threw them. They landed on the floor with a heavy, wet splat.
Leo opened hazy eyes as April climbed on top of him. She smiled at him and resisted the urge to coo when he smiled, a bit lopsided, back at her.
"You doing good, darling?"
He hummed, which she took as a still-blissed out yes.
She seated herself on the length of his cock, pressing it down flat and sandwiching it between his plastron and her pussy. The sudden pressure makes him moan, eyes rolling briefly.
"Let's get this out of the way," she said and undid his gag. A trail of spit connected it to his lips, before it broke and left a wet strand from his chin to his chest.
April ground down against his cock, once, slow, and relished his shuddered, open-mouthed gasp. "Does that feel good, baby girl?" She jerked her hips; he jolted and moaned. "Look at you," she murmured. "So pretty. All eager for me. You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?"
His cock twitched against her folds right as she canted her hips forward; her clit caught on his head, making them both moan.
"Fuck," she groaned out, and took a shaky breath. "You want me to ride you?"
Leo nodded furiously.
April cupped his face and tapped her thumb against his jaw. "Mommy can't understand you if you don't speak, love."
Leo made a drawn-out noise in the back of his throat, then opened his mouth like it took great effort, but any attempt at syllables dissolved into a gasp when April's hand squeezed his throat. Not enough to cut off air, just enough to tease. He closed his eyes against the pleasure and begged, voice raspy and thick with arousal and desperation: "Pl - ah... Plea - se, mommy."
"Please what?"
"Please - ah - fu - ahh - fuck me, please fuck me, please ri - ride me, mommy - ngh - need - need you so bad, please, please –"
Fuck. Pleas spilled like a waterfall from his lips, growing pitched and desperate, and April had always been weak to his begging. If he didn’t shut up soon, April would burst.
April slid her thumb into his mouth, between his teeth, skin snagging on their edges, and he quieted all at once. The only noise were his puffed breaths as she pressed the digit down on his tongue and lightly dug her nail in. He stared up at her; still, waiting. Ready to do whatever she wanted of him.
Her precious baby girl.
She kissed him, sloppy and filthy, and moaned in tandem with his needy gasp. She wiped saliva off her lips and then wiped her hand down Leo's side to clean it off.
She raised herself on her knees and reached back. Leo's eyes burned, intently following her every move. April put the head of his cock to her entrance, letting it catch and slide further. Leo waited with baited breath.
April sank down on his length. It slid in easily, she was about as slick as Leo was, and she'd been aching to feel him in her. She sighed contently when she bottomed out.
"Now that that's where it belongs," she said and lifted her hips to bounce back down. It punched a moan out of both of them. Leo tossed his head into the side of his arm as April started up a steady pace. She was almost as loud as Leo on a good day and didn't bother suppressing her moans and groans. Leo's own were muffled again, gasps and mewls covered by his arm, and that would not do at all.
April grabbed Leo's face, squishing his cheeks, and forced his head to turn back, forced him to look back up at her, and panted: "Look at me when I'm fucking you, baby."
He obeyed, because of course he did, she knew he would. His eyes stayed focused on her as she moved on his cock, even when his eyes grew lidded and hazy and a chorus of moans, chirps, and mewls spilled from him. April had to place both her hands on his chest to keep steady as she rocked and bounced, trying to drive him deeper, trying to go faster, chasing her own orgasm. Her boyfriend's pleasured sounds wrapped around her like a brilliant concerto. He tried to meet her movement, to copy her pace, but he couldn't keep up, muscles trembling with effort before they gave.
Praises and curses spilled from her mouth as easy as breathing, lavishing the beauty under her until the heat of his body, the shine of his scales, and the red of his marks could only be called something divine.
April felt her orgasm building, felt it light up and burn bright, and it took everything to keep up the pace. It stuttered and lost rhythm, and she started slamming down far harsher than before. She was right on the precipice of it. It rose, and rose, and right when aroused frustration started to spark, it bulldozered into her. She tossed her head back, moaning loudly, and dug her nails into Leo's plastron as shudders wracked her body and her pussy convulsed around his cock. Her hips twitched as she sank to a stop, pussy drooling onto Leo's groin.
Leo's mouth hung open, panting, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He hadn't looked away.
Despite still coming down from her own high and her nerves feeling both deliciously and near-painfully alight, she lifted herself up and dropped back down. Her arms nearly buckled at the overstimulation, and her pussy convulsed again, trying its best to milk an orgasm from her boyfriend. He was almost there, she could see it, a frown line between his brow ridges as his eyes finally slipped close, mouth hanging open – close, so close.
"C'mon," she breathed. Lifted herself up again. "Come for me, princess." And dropped back down.
Leo tensed, back arching as far as it could with his shell, and spilled hotly into April. She moaned softly at the feeling. He slumped back against the mattress, chest heaving, slowly evening out. He looked like he would drift right off to sleep at any moment.
April slipped off him. His softening cock started to retreat back into his slit.
She reached over him for the tissue box on her night stand. He didn't react, didn't move even when she accidentally jostled him, breathing soft and even, looking completely boneless. He was off to a deep slumber, then. April wiped off the cum dripping between her legs, then cleaned him off. Only the mess of pre and slick on his abdomen, for now. She'd need a proper washcloth to really get rid of that viscous stuff.
She untied his legs, then his hands, soothing the indents the ropes left in his skin with her thumb.
"You were perfect, babe," she whispered, kissing him sweetly on his forehead, then on his cheek.
Leo hummed unexpectedly and turned his head to meet her lips for a chaste kiss. April smiled into it. "Love you, too."
He pouted when she pulled back, and she fondly rolled her eyes. "Don't pout at me like that," she said. "I need to clean up."
Leo whined petulantly. He raised his arms as far up as he was able to, muscles straining with effort, and made grabby hands at her.
April laughed. "Alright, fine. But we're both taking a shower later. And you're cleaning my sheets."
Another hum as he finally got his arms around her and dragged her down next to him. His fingers quickly found a rhythm on her shoulder, tapping a beat that made no sense to her, but lulled her into a quiet, easy comfort. She sighed and snuggled up to him, throwing an arm over his middle to pull him close. She traced a mindless pattern on the curve of his hip.
"I missed this," she murmured. A rumbling churr trilled through her from his chest.
"M'rr'w," came his scratchy, barely coherent answer. April snorted and patted his hip.
"Sure, big guy. If you can walk tomorrow, we'll see if we'll do it again."
A slightly protesting groan, but it was weak, soft, and he nuzzled the top of her head instead of answering. April kissed the curve of his neck and snickered when his tail flicked against her hand.
title: Blood on my shirt, Rose in my hand (read on ao3)
rating: T, for blood and death
summary: Leo is a loving boyfriend with one crucial secret: he's an assassin for-hire. He never wants Mikey to find out, but when a rival assassin makes an attempt on his life, it all comes crashing down.
written for @tcestweek
Rain drizzles down the abandoned alley, pattering against cold stone, creating circles in pre-existing puddles. It's dark the way New York isn't supposed to be, even at a little past one. There's no bright lights shining down this path, no neon signs or lit-up windows. The street beyond is empty. A lone, failing lantern at the alley's entrance casts a pale glow against the wet pavers.
Leo sighs, turning the rose in his hand. It bends pitifully down, stem snapped in half. Its pretty red petals are askew, knocked loose. A few fell and now stick to the ground.
"After I spent so long making sure I picked the most perfect one," he mutters. The assassin at his feet makes a pitiful gargling sound. "I suppose you're satisfied with yourself? Oh, wait." A humorless, mocking chuckle. "Maybe not."
The assassin quivers. Their pupils are pinpricks, but Leo doesn't need to see them to know his victim is afraid. He can smell the fear in the air.
Leo smiles down at them, empty, predatory. If they had any strength left, perhaps they'd have tried crawling away, but Leo's injured them thoroughly - he's not someone to do a half-assed job, certainly not when another assassin comes after his life. They were almost admirable in their stupidity, really, to think they could knock him off his throne, with a sloppy sneak attack from the depths of New York shadows. As if this isn't his town and those shadows not his home.
The rain mixes with the blood steadily pooling under the assassin. It runs in a stream down cracks and uneven pavers, down to the gutter, where it gurgles and disappears into the sewage.
"P... Plea..."
"What? Please?" Leo draws his brow ridges together in fake sympathy, sardonic. "You can't even try to save the last bit dignity you had left? Now that's just sad. Listen, if it makes you feel any better, this never would have ended any other way. Sure, you picked a really wrong time to do it, but you never would've won."
He positions his sword, sharp point at the assassin's neck.
"So don't feel too bad," he says, but it's still a sneer, despite the words.
The assassin stares up at him, breath falling short. Death smiles back down at them.
"Please..."
Leo slashes their throat.
Blood splatters on him, warm, sticky - a familiar sensation. Not pleasant, nor repulsive, but simply something that is, something he's used to, and experiences with a sense of detached apathy. The assassin crumples, choking at first, lifeless a moment later.
Leo looks at the ruined rose in his hand, and tosses it on the corpse.
He wipes at blood on his cheek with the back of his hand. He isn't sure if he wiped it off or smeared it, but he supposes it doesn't matter. Raindrops slide down his temple, down his shell, his plastron, and he knows that, in a few minutes, the blood on him will have washed away.
"Maybe I'll be able to make it still," he mutters to himself. "Mikey's been waiting a while, though... And he was so excited about today, too. Can't believe some no-good assassin is going to make me miss-"
A sharp rattle rings behind him.
He whirls around, sword raised, ready, body coiled like a viper ready to spring into action, showing off teeth that would sink into flesh without a second's hesitation.
Mikey stands in the alley's mouth, features pale underneath the flickering sickly yellow of the street lantern.
Something in Leo teeters dangerously off-kilter. He almost drops his sword, steel clattering loudly against the ground. It leaves a red smear in the grime.
"Leo...?" Mikey's voice shakes. Leo's throat closes up, it's hard to breathe.
He can't be here.
He can't know.
Mikey's eyes take him in. They go from his sword, trail up his plastron, and linger on his face. And then, slowly, hesitantly, they glide past him, to the assassin's crumpled, mangled body and the pool of blood amassed under it.
He looks like he's going to be sick. He shakes his head, disbelieving, horrified, hand coming up to cover his mouth, and when his gaze returns to Leo's, it's like he doesn't recognize him anymore.
It hurts worse than any injury Leo's ever had.
"Mikey..." he gasps out, and takes a step forward.
Mikey steps back.
"Please," his breath shakes. The word echoes in his mind. "Let me..."
He takes another step towards Mikey, and Mikey stumbles back, away from Leo, shoulders hunched as if he's trying to disappear, or protect himself, and when Leo looks into his eyes, he can't read anything but disgust and terror in them. And then Mikey turns and rushes back down the sidewalk, disappearing from view in less than a second.
Leo's breath stutters, picks up pace. It's like his chest's been run through by a white-hot fireplace poke. A call of Mikey's name gets stuck in his throat and turns into a pathetic whine instead. His knees buckle under him. His sword slips from his limp fingers as he stares, almost unseeing, down the alley.
Mikey doesn't return. No matter how long he waits.
Summary: Leo wants to celebrate New Year's by watching the fireworks off Brooklyn Bridge, and Mikey jumps at the chance to join him.
Rating: G
read it on ao3
Leo wanted to see the fireworks off Brooklyn Bridge this year. Trips topside only recently became common, particularly day-time trips and non-disguised trips, so it hadn't been a surprise their family hadn't been all that enthused about the idea of going out when the streets were swarmed with humans - Mikey, however, jumped at the chance. Years of watching clips of New Year's fireworks had left him hungering to see them in person; and he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hang out with Leo, either.
Raph, Donnie, and Dad stayed in the lair, April a welcome addition to their small gathering this year. Her parents, both paramedics, had night shift all of New Year. April didn't mind - said she was more than happy to spend holidays with her extended family, and a calm celebration during the busy season was always nice. Both Leo and Mikey knew said "nice, calm new year's" wasn't going to last long - not with Mr. Donnie-Tech being as into holidays as he was.
When they portaled on top of one of Brooklyn Bridge's towers, the walkway was already nearly swamped, yet not filled to its full capacity. They’d come to the bridge early, perhaps, but Mikey wouldn’t begrudge the extra time he was allowed to spend with his brother. It had been so long ago since they’d been alone together – years, it felt like, though Mikey couldn’t put an exact time on it. Too long, either way.
Their breaths came out in long, white puffs, the night air carrying a frigid chill that made Mikey shiver despite his thick coat, earmuffs, and the pretty orange mittens his family gifted him for Christmas.
"It's cold," he moaned. Leo laughed lightly, hooking his arm through Mikey's.
"Let's not sit too far apart, then."
He brought them to the edge of the tower, facing away from Manhattan Bridge, and sat them down. He unhooked his arm, but scooched almost impossibly closer to Mikey's side after.
"We won't be too cold like this."
Mikey smiled and pressed his leg close to Leo's.
A quiet mist draped itself across the East River, swaying and curling along to the rhythm of the current. More pedestrians filed in, filling the bridge almost to the brim, but their voices didn't carry up to their secluded spot, and the noise of the cars passing by even below the crowd was but a murmuring background rumble.
"I can't believe they're missing out on this," Mikey said. None of them had ever properly seen fireworks before, not like this, and the ambience threaded through the evening purled pleasantly, cut through the cold of the night to replace it was a sort of crisp warmth Mikey was unfamiliar with.
"Psh, their loss," Leo said, leaning back on his hands. "Now I get to hang out with my favorite little brother."
This warmth, Mikey was entirely familiar with, curling soft like a hearth in his belly.
"I'm your only little brother," he shot back. Though he couldn't contain a pleased little grin.
"We all agreed Donnie's younger than me."
No, they definitely hadn't, but Mikey graciously elected to ignore it, and said instead -
"And I'm still your favorite?"
"Of course you are." A teasing smile. "At least, until the next time you cheat me out of pizza."
"Hey! That was one time!"
Leo raised an eyebrow ridge at him.
"Okay, a couple-a times. But you can't take my 'favorite brother' spot for that!"
"Oh-ho, you've graduated yourself from favorite little brother to favorite brother, hm?" At his pout, Leo's smile grew. "You're not wrong, lil' bro. But sounds to me you're vying for the 'All-Time Favorite Brother' spot, and I gotta tell you, that doesn't come cheap."
Mikey squinted at Leo, who put on his best charming grin. He huffed.
"Nevermind then."
"Awww, come on, Mikey! You didn't even hear me out!"
"Nuh-uh, I don't wanna know. You're going to want something ridiculous!"
"That's not true! It's nothing bad or crazy, Mike, really -"
Mikey shook his head. "No, nope, I'll work my way back up when the time comes, but I'm not going to do whatever it is you're going to ask for."
"I was just gonna ask for some quality time," Leo managed to make his petulant mumble sound like a whine and, somehow, entirely endearing. It almost made Mikey waver and melt, when, quieter: "And pizza privileges..."
"Aha! I knew it! Sorry, bro, you're not getting any extra pizza from me."
"You're so mean to me," Leo whined, letting his head fall against Mikey's. "That's why you're my second-favorite little brother."
He laughed, despite himself. "Leo, c'moonnn!"
"Favorite little brother privileges revoked."
"I didn't even know there were any!"
Leo's frame shook with silent laughter, face turned into Mikey's shoulder, and Mikey hid his own grin behind his hand, chuckles bubbling joyful and unbidden up his throat.
The loud, shrill honking of a horn - usually reserved for sports events - shocked them out of the reverie of their shared moment. They jumped, torn briefly apart, and leaned over the edge to peer downward. A group of particularly rowdy college students had made a personal circle among the throngs of people packed together like sardines and were prematurely cheering the coming of the new year.
Tension slipped from them with twin sighs of relief. They caught each others' eye, and shared a smile, bumping back together.
It was another twenty minutes before midnight drew near, spent huddled together, sharing sweet snacks snuck from Dad's not-so secret premium stash, exchanging words and laughs in hushed tones, as if they were secret sweethearts sneaking around.
Then, the people below grew excited, impatient, and one quick glance at the clock told them it was only one more minute until midnight.
"Ready, Miguel?"
Mikey nodded, and excited jitter curling his toes, making it hard to sit still. His fingers dug into the hard edge of the tower, hoping to transfer some of his anticipation into the cold stone.
The crowd counted down, Mikey and Leo joining from their perch atop the bridge.
3...
2...
1...
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
Their voices, only clear to them, still mingled with the crowd, becoming part of a larger unit, a joyous clamor, and then the words faded and fell into loud cheers.
The first whistle of a firework rocket rung through the air. It burst, high above them, into a glittering circle of bright red, and the crowd went wild. Mikey watched with awe as the embers lingered before starting their descent, but a series of silver and blue going up drew his attention instead. One firework after another was launched into the air, shattering into dazzling colors with loud, yet contained bangs and crackles - plumes, perfect circles, spirals, a small pointed star, raining down and sizzling out before they were half-way to the East River.
It was like nothing Mikey's ever seen before, a bright dance of light that was somehow both cohesive and disjointed, a beautiful piece of showmanship and art painted in the sky.
He turned to Leo, excited praise on his tongue, but it fizzled out along with the latest plume before it could be given sound.
Leo's eyes danced more brightly than the fireworks, full of almost child-like wonder. He was leaning forward, as if he were one step away from holding out his hands and snatching a blooming fire-flower out of the sky. His face, open and at ease, was a canvas of color. Mikey had never seen anything more breathtaking.
A glance - Leo noticed him staring, but Mikey couldn't make himself look away - and then Leo turned to him, and smiled, and if Mikey's breath wasn't already stolen, that smile would make it hitch all over again, because it was soft, so, so soft, and Mikey wanted to hold him - wanted to hold his hands and curl into his warmth; wanted to cup his face, tender and adoring; wanted to carry that wonderful smile in the palm of his hand and hold it close, so he could keep it safe and nothing could ever steal it away.
"Happy new year, Mikey," Leo whispered.
Breathlessly, Mikey said: "Happy new year, Leo."
The smile grew. Leo winked at him, and grabbed Mikey's hand, entangling them, and for the first time since he received them, Mikey cursed the mittens keeping him warm. Leo gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and returned to watching the fireworks, but Mikey was stuck on Leo.
It was like someone had lit a sparkler in his chest, and its gentle light illuminated the space between them - differently, than before. Time stretched endlessly, and in that moment, they were the only ones occupying their little stretch of universe, though the knowledge that it would be over all too soon, when the final light went out, was a niggling blight at the back of his mind.
If he could stay here, together with Leo, for eternity, it wouldn't be long enough.
And Mikey realized, suddenly, without much fanfare and with only a pinprick of shock, and what felt like a weighted blanket cocooning him, that he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love.
