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I've actually had this written for quite a while; but yesterday I finally felt that editing-drive to pull it out and clean it up. took longer than I thought; but I think that's just because I've learned a lot more about writing in the last few months and I'm striving to.... adhere to certain "laws" within writing in an attempt to become better.

I liked the parallel "Okay." that Raph gave Donnie this time. Both those answers were spontaneous and immediate. I also had this image in my head of Drunk!Donnie and I couldn't ignore it! He was just so cute XD You can thank Momo; she reassured me (through her giggles) that I was on the right path.

I have a VAGUE idea of where this is going. >_> so wish me well! in fact, throw out story ideas! throw random tidbits of "what could happen next" at me  maybe i'll spark something!

~Melissa the Damgel", "writing": "[center]~Odd Men Out~\n\n~~~~~2~~~~~[/center]\n\nIt felt so good. It chased their reality away for a few minutes, or hours. It all depended on the day and their emotional state. \n\nRaphael often found himself and Donnie retreating from the main room more and more once Leonardo and Michelangelo began to openly show their affection around the lair. It sucked. The longer they were together, the more comfortable they became with each other in front of the family. A kiss after practice, arms wrapped around another while cooking dinner, or whispering to one another on the couch, curled up under a blanket. \n\nDonnie and he put on happy faces, but once the doors locked and they closed their eyes in the darkness, clinging to one another, Raphael felt Donnie’s longing for any kind of connection just as acutely as he felt his own. \n\nThey reenacted fantasies they had – Raph had one about being taken in the dojo; Don had one with them in the shower. They tried to fill that ache in their chests, and for those few precious moments in absolute darkness, they moaned and moved together and clung to one another in some twisted understanding; and it half worked.\n\nYet, other times, they couldn’t find the energy to pretend. Leaning against each other, glaring lights beating down all around them, and their hearts beating painfully in sync, all they could do was listen to their brothers on the other side of the wall and count the minutes. Their knees touched, or their elbows, but anything more. It just wasn’t in them. So they sat there, listening, and waiting for the hollow silence afterwards. At least, together, it kept them from feeling alone.\n\nNighttime was the worst though, especially when they were louder than usual. \n\nTonight was one of those nights. Leo’s voice rose and spiraled higher, and Mikey’s whimpers and mewls grew stronger. Their churrs resonated through the lair, competing with the hissing of pipes and the rumbling of the subway. It didn’t matter where Raphael fled, he could hear them everywhere he was. A squeak, a groan, a thud, a name….\n\nRaphael jerked his door open, nearly colliding with a fleeing Donatello whose hands were pressed to his ears. Without a second thought, he fell in step with him, his hands curling into fists at his sides. They fled like hounds nipped at their heels, but instead of escaping to Don’s lab where a very loud set of speakers might drown everything out, Donatello turned sharply and opened the door leading out of the lair. Raphael followed without question and the door slid shut behind him. \n\nDonatello hugged himself, arms wrapping about his waist with tense shoulders hunched up to his cheeks. \n\n“I’ve been workin’ on the shellcycle.” Raphael suddenly said, his lips pursed. \n\nDon didn’t say anything as dark eyes caught a hint of light in the gloom of the tunnels. They walked, Donnie silently leading the way through the sewers, turning corners at will.\n\n“I’m – I’m figurin’ out how ta take care of it; not just basic stuff like oil changes.”\n\n“Oh.” Donatello whispered, his fingers fidgeting against his elbows. \n\nRaphael frowned and took his shoulder, forcing him to a stop with only a faint grunt as a warning as Don shrugged his hand off. “What’s wrong?” Raph snapped, hands on his hips, head dipping to stare his brother down.\n\nDon shrugged, looking at the flow of sewage in the center of the tunnel. “Just…I’m melancholy today.”\n\n“Huh?”\n\nDonatello shot him a glare, but that was good, at least he was showing some form of an emotion. \n\nHe knew how he felt. They were connected because of it. But Donatello’s depression was starting to really worry him. He had never seen his brother take something this hard before. It was like he was giving up.\n\nStepping closer, backing Donatello up into the wall, he took him by the elbow, his other arm leaning against the wall as he moved in close, looming over him. “Donnie, ya ain’t been yerself for the past few weeks. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I goin’ ta have ta take this to Master Splinter?”\n\nDonnie flinched at that and he looked away, rolling his shoulder in an attempt to shrug off Raph’s hand. It didn’t work this time, he held tight, fingers pressing into his flesh.\n\n“Don.” His voice dipped, low and authoritative. He never thought he would do that. He was annoyed he sounded a little like Leo.\n\n“I just wish they would stop.” His voice cracked and Raphael eased the grip he had on Donatello’s elbow.\n\n“What do ya mean?”\n\nThe sewer echoed with the traffic above, moist and heady with miles of emptiness surrounding them in enclosed angles and turns. Raphael slid his hand along his arm and Donatello recoiled, his face twisting up and his fists rising to hide his face. \n\nRaph gripped his wrists and pulled them away from his face, forcing Donatello to look at him. \n\n“Donnie-“\n\n“I don’t want to stay here.” His voice rushed out in a sob and he collapsed in on himself. “I just want to go away, forget about them. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”\n\nRaphael held him up, forcing him to remain standing even as Donnie’s knees wobbled and threatened to give out. He didn’t want to feel like this either. Day in, day out, watching them touch and kiss, watching them being a couple. It wasn’t like they were so focused on themselves that they didn’t interact with Donnie or him, but that was also part of the ache – they didn’t know and thus acted normal. Mikey laughed and teased him, Leo lectured him and they fought because of his anger; Mike pestered Donnie and tried to make him laugh while he worked on his projects, and Leo nagged Don about overworking himself. \n\nLife was so normal that it was choking them alive. Little by little, suffocating them because Leo and Mike didn’t know they had two admirers right there in the same room as them.\n\n“I want to run away.” Donatello whispered, hiccupping as he breathed around the emotion and the threat of tears. \n\n“…Okay.” \n\nDonnie’s head snapped up, moisture hanging along his eyes. \n\nRaph’s heart pounded, drumming a frantic beat under his plastron. It was brilliant. Just leave. It’d give them time away from the turtle-doves so they could come to terms or get over them. Why not? Distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder – or whatever that meant. Probably had something to do with making good memories or something instead of thinking about the shit life gave you.\n\nDonatello’s eyes widened and tears fell, toppling down in surprise. “What?”\n\n“Let’s get the hell out of this city.” Raphael hissed, gripping his shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Let’s just go. You and me. We’ll leave this shit-hole in a cloud of dust and we’ll get away.”\n\n“W-where?”\n\n“Don’t care.” Raph said, and then he smirked as an idea popped into his head. “We’ll head out ta the farm first then make plans from there. We just got ta get out of here. Now.”\n\nDonatello swallowed hard and Raphael knew that Donnie felt it, the excitement of just packing up and leaving, but he was too logical about it and was worrying.\n\n“Shell, Donnie, don’t worry. Let’s just go. If Splinter can let Leo run off on his missions, he can let us do this for ourselves. Right?\n\n“I…I don’t know-“\n\n“Yeah ya do.” He licked his lips, never taking his eyes off of Don’s. Somehow it was important that they both get out of here; together. It was his fault, he had complicated things. Plus, if he weren’t here, Donnie would just sink further into his depression and regress further. He had to make sure Donnie got better – and that meant getting him out of this place.\n\nThe way Donnie looked up at him, lips trembling, Raph knew he had won. Donatello nodded, his hands shook as they gripped his wrists.\n\nThey moved quickly after that, heading home. They lucked out – Leo and Mike were done by this point, and the lair was silent. They worked late into the night, packing, transporting what they needed into the spare van. It consisted mostly of Donnie’s things; equipment, tools, first aid, food, all sorts of supplies that Raph found rather useless. But once they were packed and they stood back, sweat on their brows, hands on hips and swelling with triumph in their chests, Raphael allowed himself to take that one second to look at Donnie and note the faint glimmer of life flickering in his dark eyes like a candle in a heavy wind.\n\n“I hope you were planning to say goodbye before you left.”\n\nTurning together, Raph stiffened as Master Splinter moved toward them from out of the shadows, his walking stick clicking on the cement, his other hand behind his back with his whiskers twitching. \n\n“Ah…”\n\n“We need to leave for awhile.” Donatello answered, turning toward their father, that sadness overshadowing his face once again. \n\n“I know.” Splinter said, stepping closer. He looked to Raphael, seeming to gauge his reaction before he reached for Donatello and cupped his face. \n\nDonnie raised his eyes, so sad and misty and his hand shook as he touched his father’s knuckles.\n\n“I know you do, my sons. I am glad that you both came to this realization on your own. I hope you will take the time your journey will offer you to work through the difficulties between you both.”\n\nRaph’s brow twitched and he tilted his head. \n\n“You take care of each other.” \n\n“We will, Father.” Donnie whispered.\n\nSplinter’s warm voice soothed them both and he took Raphael’s large hand in his small, spindly one and patted his knuckles. “Do not forget that you are out there to heal.”\n\n“Father-“Donatello whispered, his face growing dark.\n\nSplinter simply smiled taking them both in with measured looks. “I may be old, but I have not lost my mind. I know what it is that is wrong.” His eyes softened, growing sad for them. “I am sorry you both have been jilted and were given this trial. But you are very strong. I know you will work this out.”\n\nDonatello nodded, swallowing hard. Raphael just stared at their father, his throat closing up. \n\nWith a hug and a final blessing and a request to stay safe, Splinter remained in the garage and watched as they piled into the car and drove off. Their father disappeared from the rearview mirror and Raph’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. \n\nIt was a long trip, it always was. The trip to get out of the city typically took longer than the actual drive through the country roads to get to the farm. Donnie pulled out sandwiches halfway there and Raph eyed him, snorting at the smile Don threw him. Maybe all his nit-picky preparations weren’t for nothing. \n\nWhen they pulled up to the farm, the sun hanging low and heavy in the sky, Raphael slipped out of the driver’s side to stretch and saw Donatello out of the corner of his eye, gazing up at the old farmhouse with a lost look. \n\nWalking toward him, the gravel crunching under his feet, he took Don’s hand and tugged him inside. The screen door banged behind them, the cobwebs quivered, and all was still as they stood in the center of the dusty room, just taking a moment to breathe and feel the change. \n\nDonatello smiled faintly – and seeing it hurt. Just looking at Donatello was like a punch to the gut. Donnie embodied everything in that moment; heartache, fear, despair. He looked to be holding hands with regret and relief; and Raphael felt the same. He wished his own feelings of failure, his feelings of inadequacy, of not being good enough to catch Leo’s eye…he just wanted them to go away. The loneliness, the lack of a future, it all came tumbling back because of that small smile from Donnie. So Raph did the only thing he could think of – he turned toward him and wrapped his arms about Donatello’s trembling form, and reached down and gripped his ass. \n\nDonnie’s breathe shuddered with a laugh. Bowing his head, Donatello buried his face in the crook of Raph’s neck and finally sighed and his shoulders relaxed. It was strange and yet still comforting, holding him like this…while the lights were on and without any real intension for more. It still hurt, like his smile, but it was lighter between them now.\n\n“I’ll unpack the car.” Donatello whispered, pulling away from him.\n\nRaphael grunted and watched Don leave him. Only after he hopped off the porch did Raph realize something.\n\n“Damnit Donnie, I ain’t cleaning up this house alone! I don’t do mops!” \n\nA choked laugh drifted to his ears. \n\n\n[center]~~~~~*~~~~~[/center]\n\n\n\"And he smells!\" Donnie pointed, a bit of beer sloshing out of the freshly opened bottle and he licked at his fingers to clean it up. \n\nRaphael snorted, swallowing quickly then nodded, eyes wide. \"Don't know what the hell he does, but sometimes he got this smell where he smells like road kill cactus!\" He slurred out, waving his hand in the air. \"Leo's got ta lay off the incense.\"\n\n\"Mmm!\" Donatello slapped his hand on the table, knocking over their collection of just under a dozen beer cans, bottles, and the pizza box they had resting atop their carefully constructed building. It clattered and he crawled around the table on all fours, pinning Raphael down with wide, dark eyes. \"I think he got high once!\"\n\n\"Bullshit.\"\n\nDonnie collapsed next to him, grabbing at his arm and Raphael snorted, rather amused. Don's such a lightweight. Who knew all he had to do was give the Brainiac a few beers and he'd let loose.\n\n\"True!\" He tried to set his beer on the table but missed, tried a second time, managed to set it down but it toppled over and rolled under the table, leaving a golden trail of liquid spilling free. Donatello crawled onto Raph's lap to look him in the eyes as his brilliant solution to sitting up under his own power. \"Nuh-uh! Yeah-huh...\" He nodded to get his point across and Raph snickered, pushing him off his lap with a hand to the face. Donatello yelped and fell backward onto his carapace, laying there with a foot in the air and foggy eyes staring at the ceiling. \"Yer a dick.\" He waved his foot in the air and tried in vain to roll over. \n\nRaphael barked out a laugh.\n\nDonatello grunted and gave up, his arms splaying out at his sides. \"Leo smells weird!\"\n\n\"Mikey's no bed of roses.”\n\n\"He smells like corn chips and cake.\"\n\n\"On a good day.\"\n\nDonnie lifted a hand, wagging a finger aimlessly, \"Yes! Or he smells like death! Bad buttrriii....Burtin....burri-itos.\" He drawled out.\n\n\"And Mike's got no personal space.\"\n\n\"A damn leech. And fumble fingers...\"\n\n\"Butterfingers.\"\n\n\"Tha's what I said.\"\n\n\"Sure.\" Raphael grinned then reached for another beer. He really should have laid off. He'd have a bitch of a hangover tomorrow. Then again, they both were. To hell with it. \"I bet Mikey likes ta pretend he's Silver Sentry come ta save the fuckin’ day when he fucks Leo.\"\n\nDonatello snorted and a bit of spittle flew in the air. That only got them both laughing harder. \"Or...\" Donnie gasped, \"Or he's the girl....\" he finally managed to roll over, knocking one of the table legs and jolting it. \n\n\"In a dress!\" Raphael could see it, ribbons and frills and lace, and even one of those little dogs in a handbag. He roared in laughter, falling backwards off the cushion he was sitting on. \n\n\"Leo would-wouldn't know how to fuck if his life depended on it. Probably thinks missionary style is all there is.\" Donnie snickered, hiccupping after a moment, his face flushed and tears in his eyes, \"He gotta read a book before Mikey could do him.\" Raphael slapped a hand over his face and gasped for air, pounding a fist on the floor. \n\nTheir laughter filled the old farm house, chasing away spiders in the dusty rafters. Then Raphael pointed at Donnie from where they both lay, sprawled out and probably too drunk to piss. \"You wanna bone that corn chip dweeb!\"That just made Raph laugh again and Donnie couldn't see straight, giggling insanely at him for his laughter. “He probably farts when they do it!”\n\nDonatello yelped and pressed a hand to his belly, his laughter suddenly silent as his body shook and his lungs closed up. With a gasp that ripped through him, Don waved his hand wildly, tears running down his face, \"Shut....up....gonna....pee.\" He squealed. \n\nRaphael lost it and he just lay there, listening to their drunken giggles. Donatello finally managed to drag himself to his hands and knees and crawled off to the bathroom, forgetting to turn the lights on, where bursts of laughter echoed from the open doorway. \n\nIt was just enough time apart though that Raphael gasped for breath and calmed down, grinning up at the rafters, thinking of all the stupid things they ranted about. How Leo was such a neat freak; how Mikey was a secret hoarder; how Leo probably measured everything in his room so that if Mike moved it, he'd know; or, how Mikey probably ate in bed; how Leo was probably a secret bondage freak....it was just nice to get everything out. \n\nHe didn't know how long it took him, but Raphael dragged himself to his feet, swaying dangerously. In a looping pattern he made his way toward the darkened bathroom and ran into the wall only once. As he relieved himself, leaning heavily upon the wall, he glanced over, realizing Donnie, hidden shadows and slivers of moonlight, was sitting in the tub, knees drawn up to his chest and face hidden. He grumbled about no privacy and finished up, wiping his hands carelessly on a wet washcloth. \n\n\"Don?\"\n\n\"Go'way.\" \n\nRaphael snorted at that and nearly tripped over his own feet, but he made it to the bathtub and fell into it, his head sliding down the side of the tub and stopping as his lips made contact with Don's thigh. He struggled to sit up, but finally gave up and focused on making Donnie uncurl himself. \"Can't get up.\" He grumbled.\n\nDonatello snorted and a faint shudder of laughter rolled over him and his muscles relaxed. Raphael managed to force him down and the Brainiac wrapped his arms about him, humming a little. He smelled good. Raph huffed and inhaled deeply, his fingers tracing patterns along his scutes. Donatello returned the drunken affection and nibbled on his neck.\n\n\"What's yer big brain thinkin' bout?\" Raphael blinked slow and heavy.\n\nDonatello nestled up to him, his movements uncoordinated and he probably would have poked him in the eye if Raphael's own hand hadn't moved on its own and flopped over the top of his. \"About how much I wanna smell corn chips right now.\"\n\nThinking that over, his fingers like lead as he rubbed along Donnie's carapace, Raphael finally knotted his brows together and wrinkled his nose. \"Don't get it. Why?\" He yawned and Don rubbed at his stormy eyes. They were awfully pretty when Don wasn't trying so hard to be in control of himself. He was just as bad as Leo when it came to relaxing.\n\n\"I don't know.\" Donatello's sigh puffed over his face and Raphael wrinkled his nose, turning his head away from the sickly sweet ethanol scent of his breath.\n\n\"Dude, you are so wasted. Ya smell like a bar.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well…you need a bath.\"\n\nRaphael snickered and Donatello giggled, hiding his face against Raphael's chest.\n\n\"Ya got me in the tub, so are ya gonna scrub my shell?\" He grinned, an involuntary rumble rolling out of his chest and into the space between them as he dragged his hand along Don's side, feeling the warmth of the much softer skin hidden between carapace and plastron. \n\n\"Mmmmaybe.\" Donatello hummed and nuzzled him again, hands sliding along his hips. \"I wish we could have been happy.\" He whispered, his voice faint and airy. \n\nRaphael frowned, forcing his eyes open so he could stare at a funny looking stain on the wall that looked like one of those blob creatures in some of Mikey's monster movies. \"Hnn.\" He didn't know what to say. His brain wasn't really working properly, but it was functioning just enough that he understood Don's words. \"We will be. We got each other, 'member?\"\n\nDonatello swayed as he sat up, but he nodded and fumbled along Raphael’s shoulders. Sliding a thigh over his, Donnie settled himself atop him. Raphael raised a brow, grunted, and adjusted himself within the bathtub more comfortably. Don’s head lolled backward and he pushed himself up, holding himself up at arm’s length with his palms against his chest. “Just wanna forget.” He breathed, and suddenly rolled his hips, grinding himself against Raphael, the shadows and moonlight playing across his body with every movement he made. \n\nA rush of air escaped Raph, alarm bells ringing in his ears even if he wasn’t sure why and he reached for him instantly, grabbing his hips. “Donnie?” \n\nA soft churr escaped the smaller turtle, his eyes closed and a quiver raced down his body in an alluring way that Raphael found rather attractive. He tried to sit up, but Donnie yelped as he moved and they tumbled back down and Raphael’s head thunked against the tub. Giggles snorted between them a heartbeat later. Raphael grinned, throwing an arm over Donatello’s shoulders and leaned his head back. \n\nDon huffed against his throat, warm and gentle, his hands curling behind his head, feeling for the bump. “You okay?”\n\n“Yeah.” He grinned up at him. \n\nWith a churr against his throat and a shiver up under his shell, Raphael watched Donatello slide down his plastron an inch or two then push himself back up, eyes closed and head lolling to the side. It was subtle at first, just enough to make him smirk and run a warm palm along Don’s toned legs, but it was there, the give and take of his hips. An ocean of heat moved between them, slow and building as the moon rose higher and shone down on them through the tiny window in the Jones’ even tinier bathroom. \n\n“Don?” he hummed, groping at his face till it was cupped and he could see his glazed and utterly dark and lost eyes. “Whatcha doin’?” he licked his lips and Donatello stared at his mouth, his lips just as moist and parted, his movements noticeable, deliberate, and hot.\n\nRaphael hardened between his legs, his head leaning back while a hand fell away from Don’s face to grip the rim of the tub above his head. “Mmmmm, that’s nice.” \n\nHe hadn’t ever seen Donnie look this way. Then again, he hadn’t ever looked at him when they had sex. It was always in complete darkness or they turned away from one another when they spent their nights pretending with the sounds of the other two thumping against the wall. \n\nIt was a dream at first, hazy and warm with every touch they exchanged. The little noises Don made caused his breath to catch and his hips to rise. He woke up though after some heated fumbling and a shaky hand with conditioner spilling between them as slicked fingers wrapped around his cock, tugging and coating, and just as quickly pulled away to reach behind. Donatello curled into himself and shuddered, his eyes like liquid ebony and his lips pouting and body rolling as he prepped himself – and all too quickly, Don’s body took him inside. Fingers clawed at his darker skin, his toes curled, and Donnie quivered above him, completely in the moment as he sank down onto his cock inch by inch, swallowing him whole in a tight embrace. \n\nDonnie’s tail reached for his and curled against his. They hadn’t done that before, and Raphael lost his voice as his tail twisted and slid across Donnie’s. It felt so good. Why hadn’t they done that before?\n\nRaphael gasped, his hands jerking at Don’s hips and though the alcohol made his thoughts slow, the fog lifted just enough as the heat of Donnie’s body washed away everything. The cold tub, his scent washed away the cabin, and his eyes catch the moon’s glow. He rode him, staring at him, eyes hooded and his body writhing above him as he bounced. Raph panted, hips snapping up, Donatello moaned, loud and hungry. Raph grit his teeth, head banging against the tub, and for the first time, he saw him. He saw Donatello, and his tail twisted and rubbed against Don’s, squeezing, tugging, and caressing more of those noises out of him. \n\nSlow and hot; Raphael fumbled to sit up only to get pushed back down, one of Don’s hands on his chest, the other reaching between their bodies to wrap around his bobbing erection. Raphael sucked in a breath, his stomach twisting at the sight and he batted Donnie’s hand away. He seized Don’s flesh and he rubbed his palm across the weeping tip in a claiming action. \n\nThe genius wailed and churred deep in his chest, his hips rising and slapping back down to drive him inside. \n\nUnable to sit up as Don leaned over him, one hand grabbing the edge of the bath in a white knuckled grip, he bounced him upon his lap, hissing in pleasure as Donnie clawed his arm. Raph pumped his slick shaft, eyes locked with those dark orbs before they rolled into the back of his head. Desire filled his nostrils with every breath, coating his lungs and leaving a heady taste upon his tongue. \n\nGuttural cries rose between them, their skin slapping and skin sliding in heated motions. Donatello bit his lower lip, cooing and moving faster, sliding across his aching flesh, teasing his erection even as he soothed it and swallowed it whole. Teeth upon flesh, churrs rocking his body and vibrating through him; Raphael abruptly leaned forward, his teeth snapping at Don’s lower lip. He claimed it, biting down on it, his tongue sweeping across it and tasting him. \n\nDonatello whimpered and arched, his whole body stiffened and jerked against his, and his ass tightened and strangled his dick. Raphael snarled as he pumped him. Then it was as if sound lost all meaning and the look on Donatello’s face; the bliss, the joy, the pure need of what they had between them crossed Donnie’s face as the shadows shifted for a moment as the moon illuminated him. He had never seen that before and he drank it in, thrusting upwards and deep. \n\nDonatello choked and fell into churring whimpers as he released. Ropes of cum splattered against Raph’s fingers and chest, coating him in their sticky warmth; his own orgasm exploded through him, violent and thick. He filled Donnie inside, moving through the climax with a rumbling churr. \n\nHe reached for his tail, rubbing along it and feeling his cum seeping free. He smeared his fingers across his ass and thighs, leaving Donnie wet and marked with his seed. He rumbled deep in his chest, nostrils flaring as pride filled him as he took in their mingled scent. It was intoxicating and it fogged his mind. He enjoyed the feel of him, in his lap, wiggling atop him with little purring chirps.\n\nDon’s eyes closed, humming as he continued to move in small rocking motions. They panted and melted together. Donnie sank toward him, his brows pressing to his and Raph trailed his fingers up, his hand hovering near his cheek. \n\n“Shimata…” Raphael hissed under his breath and Donatello shivered, forcing his eyes open. Huge and inky with waning lust and confusion, he sat up slowly and gasped for air. He shuddered and moved a little, and Raphael rumbled back, pushing his hips against his. Holding him in place, he stared in fascination as the aftershocks of sex pulsed deliciously up his spine; even if it hurt a little with how sensitive he was, he didn’t want to pull out. \n\nDonatello purred and ran clumsy fingers across skin. “So good,” his head lolled back and a hand groped for one of his, holding tight to his fingers, “Mikey…” \n\nIce water gushed down his spine and Raphael locked up, jerking his hand away. Donatello, flushed and satiated above him, looked amazing. Yet with one word, Raphael’s heart stopped cold. \n\nHe suddenly realized why Donnie had made the no talking rule when they were together like this.\n\nDonatello looked so – haunting. A thing made of glass and wires. A doll he held in his hands in the most pleasurable of ways, and yet, so fragile due to that look in his eyes; a pair of eyes that stared right back at him glazed and sad. Don’s brow knotted in the middle of his forehead and he closed his eyes and hid from him, his lower lip trembling. \nRaphael swallowed hard as Donnie dipped forward a little, lifting himself off his quickly softening dick, and swayed above him on his hands and knees with a little puff of air. \n\n“Raphie….”\n\nHe didn’t expect a single word to hurt so much.\n\n\"Just wanna forget.\" Donatello slurred, his words slipping out in exhausted exhales. He slid down, hiding against Raph’s shoulder.\n\nRaphael rubbed at his face, shaken and tired and yet; it hurt for some reason and he knew if he were sober he would understand better; but this sucked. He should be enjoying the post coital bliss of sex right now and instead he just felt annoyed. “’Kay.” He whispered, staring at the funny stain on the wall and the chill of the porcelain returned. “I’ll make ya forget.\"\n\nDonatello smiled and Raphael watched his eyes drop, sleep obviously about two seconds away from claiming his drunk ass. \"You got a nice dick.\"\n\nA bark of laughter erupted from him, startling Donatello, startling himself, and not easing the flips his belly made. \"Well, shit, Donnie. I got ta get ya drunk more often.\" \n\n\"Mmmmm.\" Don responded before he passed out with a little sigh and curling his hand along Raphael’s jaw.\n\nThrowing an arm over his eyes, uncertain about so much, he contented himself with keeping warm through Donnie. Even with the mirthful fog of a solid night of alcohol, sex, and good company, Raphael couldn’t shake this nagging feeling that Leonardo and Michelangelo were still here, right now, watching them like a ghost hanging over them. It bugged him, because he wanted to hear his name for once.\n\n\n[center]~~~~~*~~~~~[/center]\n\n\n\"St. Loius.\" Raph called out, lounging next to Don on the old musty sofa, throwing random destinations out. Every idea he offered thus far had been instantly shot down and all Donnie had accomplished in doing was to annoy him – which was fairly common over the last two days and he didn’t know why. It irked him. Could the turtle just pick a place already?\n\n\"I don't think so.\"\n\nRaphael glared at him. At least Don had the decency to look sheepish.\n\nHe threw his hands in the air and they thumped back down along the back of the sofa sending bits of dust spiraling through the air. \"Then where? I'm gettin' the impression you don't want ta stay in the US.\" \n\nDonatello blinked at Raph, his eyes distant as he thought; and Raph got the distinct impression he had just set himself up for extra work.\n\n\"Maybe you're right.\" His finger tapped the edge of the book he held, eyes focusing on him once again with a flicker of a smile.\n\nExhaling loudly and dragging himself back up into a sitting position, Raphael groaned. \"Where are we goin'?\" Why fight it?\n\n\"Well, I've always wanted to go to a jungle.\"\n\nRaphael stiffened and pulled his arms from the back of the couch and leaned forward on his knees. Irrational anger swelled in his chest and pushed passed his lips. \"Sure, great idea. Let's head out onto the same mission Leo went on. That'll get my mind off him.\" He fumed and Donnie stared at him as if he had just kicked a puppy. He snorted and looked away, anywhere but at Don. He didn't go around telling him they should go off on a weeklong adventure to a skate park where they would fling whoopee-cushions and eat jelly bean pizza all day long.\n\nIt was stupid to be this mad, but if he was angry he could deny the part of him that wanted to genuinely go see what a jungle was like. To experience something Leo did. To be close to him in a weird way.\n\n\"Sorry.\" Donatello whispered, head bowing. Great. Now he felt like a dick. He shrugged his shoulders and shifted on the lumpy sofa. \"Maybe we could go to a beach?\"\n\nRaphael sighed, and nodded, leaning back into the couch, his arm outstretched across it toward Donnie. That idea didn't seem half bad. \"What about Kokomo?\" \n\nDonatello nearly did a spit-take as a laugh bubbled up from his belly and he slapped a hand over his mouth.\n\nRaphael glared, \"What? Its a beach. You listen to that type of music all the time.\" He hunched down in the sofa and folded his arms. \"Thought you'd want ta go. It’s in Jamaica, right? Or is it the Bahamas?\"\n\nA bark escaped Donnie, and his face turned red as he laughed. \"Kokomo is a family resort located in Indiana.\"\n\nWell fuck him. What the hell? \"How was I supposed to know the song lied!\" He puffed up even though his embarrasment was complete. \n\nShifting on the sofa and setting his book aside, Don chuckled and patted Raphael’s arm, “Well if it helps, it’s also in reference to a little bar in the Florida Keyes.” \nDonatello's smile caught his attention though and he reached over, punching him in the arm. \"Shut up.\" He smirked and Don shrugged, his smile faltering just a tad as he rubbed his arm. His eyes darkened and he looked away then, tilting his head with a sigh escaping him. “It’s not a bad idea…”\n\nRaph snorted and he tiled his head up, gazing at the dusty rafters overhead. “No, it’s a horrible idea. If ya want out of the states, we got ta get out of the states.” \n\n“Then where?” Donnie asked, again shifting a little closer and Raphael watched him from the corner of his eyes as the right side of his body grew warm with his proximity. \n\nGradually relaxing, Raphael spread his arms across the top of the sofa, his knee bouncing. “Where would no one look for us?” Donatello snorted and Raph grinned. “Ya know what I mean.”\n\nShrugging, Donatello pulled his book – a travel book because he was always prepared – and he hummed, leaning back on the sofa, his head resting in the crook of Raph’s elbow.\n\nRaphael stiffened, glancing to him. It wasn’t like he was leaning against him or snuggling. It was just the casualness of the touch. Don being familiar with him.\n\nSuddenly the idea of being alone with him was weird. The sex at home was one thing; it became a defense mechanism against Leo and Mikey. Day in, day out, the two lovebirds rubbing it in their faces; making out on the couch, playing footsy at breakfast; Raph had clung to Donnie because while they were miserable, at least he wasn’t alone. \n\nThey had woken up yesterday in a sputtering, hung-over mess that resulted in Raphael listening to Donatello throw up in the toilet at six in the morning. He hadn’t been in any better shape, though he did hold his stomach. Later, after Don had stopped worshiping before the alter of the porcelain god, he found that dragging Don and himself back to the couch far more difficult. It ended with them giving up three-quarters of the way there and settling for dragging a blanket over them both on the floor. \n\nThey hid in the silence of the farmhouse the rest of the day, cursing their stupidity and half passing out on the floor amidst the evidence of a dozen beer bottles.\n\nHe didn’t really remember much about the night; but he did remember flashes of Donatello staring down at him in a mess of dark eyed lust. \n\nNow, here, pressed against him, inches apart and his skin still smelling like him, Raphael felt weird, wired even. They hadn’t discussed what the sex would mean now that they were away from the lair. \n\nIt didn’t feel…right.\n\n“Here.” Donatello suddenly said and sat up, drawing his legs up under him and leaning over Raphael, setting the book on his lap and pointing. \n\nRaph grunted and sat up, looking at the book with a little chart and map.\n\n“An island?”\n\n“It has everything. Beaches, jungles, just enough tourism that it’ll be easy for us to sneak onto a plane and get there, and also just remote enough that we can really enjoy the isolation.” Donatello explained, then pointed to a little island in the center of it. “Here.” \n\n“Tuko?”\n\nDonatello shrugged then smiled sheepishly and Raphael raised a brow. He knew that look. It was the look that said this was going to take more effort than they originally expected. But then again, Donnie always had a sixth sense about what would work the best.\n\n“What.” Raph glared, pushing the book back at him. \n\nTaking the book back and settling it atop his knees, Donnie worried his lower lip, and Raphael blinked, staring at it. He hadn’t noticed his lips before – not like this anyway and he swallowed hard, shifting on the lumpy couch. \n\nDonatello turned the page, pointing at the description. “Tuko is a private resort. So we’ll be able to have access to modern conveniences, but it’s also very remote. Only about 20 guests are allowed there at any given time. So factoring in possible staff; less than perhaps a hundred people are in this area. But…it will take quite a trip to get there.”\n\n“How long of a trip?” \n\nDon rubbed his nose and shifted uncomfortably. He was avoiding his eyes. He hated when he did that. It meant it was worse.\n\n“See, the plane lands here and so we’ll have to take a bus or van to get to the pier-“\n\n“Don, seriously?”\n\n“It’s only an idea.” He mumbled, shoulders dropping and he quickly flipped through the pages, leaving the Tuko page behind.\n\nRaphael frowned, watching him. Donnie was horrible at hiding disappointments. He could lie and snark right back amazingly well, but when it came to him hiding his emotions when it counted, he sucked. It was how Raph had figured out Donnie was just as miserable as him after Leo and Mikey had announced their faux-fucking-engagement. \n\nSighing loudly, Raphael grabbed for the book and flipped through the pages till he found that Tuko place and grunted in annoyance as he started reading the half page details on it. A picture at the bottom gave him an idea of what it would look like – and he had to admit, it looked nice. It had the beaches he wanted to experience for a change, and it had the jungles where he just knew Donnie would be going nuts; studying bugs and plants and climbing rocks to try and find some little known fungus that cured athlete’s foot or something. Trees wouldn’t be so bad. They could probably play a mean game of ninja tag in them.\n\nHe caught Don’s eyes and the smaller turtle half shrugged, half shifted in the seat, leaning back into the couch so his knees could draw up to his chest more comfortably. \n\nGroaning and handing the book back, Raphael hid his face. It was going to be like a four hour travel time outside of the city after the plane landed; and that was if they were lucky not to be spotted as they snuck out of countless cargo holds on countless planes. It was going to be a ninja nightmare. \n\nThen again, he always did love a challenge. And Leo would have a fucking cow if he knew they were risking exposure like that. \n\nA wicked grin curled over his lips and Donnie perked up, brows lifting, holding perfectly still.\n\n“Let’s do it. You figure out the route, I’ll get our stuff packed away.”\n\nThat smile crawled over Donnie’s face once more and Raph smirked right back. Don needed this. Getting away from it was all Raphael needed, but Donatello needed a distraction, something to remind him that life wasn’t all about Michelangelo and Leo’s tonsil hockey contests on the couch. \n\nHe just wanted to forget and take out his anger on them after he got back. He could be pissed at the world – and at Leo specifically – for being a dense asshole who had to control everything because it was his anal-retentive OCD. Donatello though, he needed a reboot, a jumpstart back into remembering what was important. \n\n“Thanks, Raphie.”\n\nRaphael turned, staring at Donatello as he fingered the corner of the book, flipping the pages a few times. \n\n“Yeah, no problem. Anything for you, Donnie-boy.” Raphael stood then, his hand landing atop Don’s head. He couldn’t bring himself to be more affectionate. It was weird touching him suddenly and he swallowed hard, confused as to why his belly twisted about like it did. So he settled on patting his head, grunting, and then walking away, intent on packing up needed gear in easy to carry packs. \n\nHe felt Donatello’s eyes follow him out of the room.\n\n[center]~~~~~*~~~~~[/center]", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
~Odd Men Out~

~~~~~2~~~~~


It felt so good. It chased their reality away for a few minutes, or hours. It all depended on the day and their emotional state.

Raphael often found himself and Donnie retreating from the main room more and more once Leonardo and Michelangelo began to openly show their affection around the lair. It sucked. The longer they were together, the more comfortable they became with each other in front of the family. A kiss after practice, arms wrapped around another while cooking dinner, or whispering to one another on the couch, curled up under a blanket.

Donnie and he put on happy faces, but once the doors locked and they closed their eyes in the darkness, clinging to one another, Raphael felt Donnie’s longing for any kind of connection just as acutely as he felt his own.

They reenacted fantasies they had – Raph had one about being taken in the dojo; Don had one with them in the shower. They tried to fill that ache in their chests, and for those few precious moments in absolute darkness, they moaned and moved together and clung to one another in some twisted understanding; and it half worked.

Yet, other times, they couldn’t find the energy to pretend. Leaning against each other, glaring lights beating down all around them, and their hearts beating painfully in sync, all they could do was listen to their brothers on the other side of the wall and count the minutes. Their knees touched, or their elbows, but anything more. It just wasn’t in them. So they sat there, listening, and waiting for the hollow silence afterwards. At least, together, it kept them from feeling alone.

Nighttime was the worst though, especially when they were louder than usual.

Tonight was one of those nights. Leo’s voice rose and spiraled higher, and Mikey’s whimpers and mewls grew stronger. Their churrs resonated through the lair, competing with the hissing of pipes and the rumbling of the subway. It didn’t matter where Raphael fled, he could hear them everywhere he was. A squeak, a groan, a thud, a name….

Raphael jerked his door open, nearly colliding with a fleeing Donatello whose hands were pressed to his ears. Without a second thought, he fell in step with him, his hands curling into fists at his sides. They fled like hounds nipped at their heels, but instead of escaping to Don’s lab where a very loud set of speakers might drown everything out, Donatello turned sharply and opened the door leading out of the lair. Raphael followed without question and the door slid shut behind him.

Donatello hugged himself, arms wrapping about his waist with tense shoulders hunched up to his cheeks.

“I’ve been workin’ on the shellcycle.” Raphael suddenly said, his lips pursed.

Don didn’t say anything as dark eyes caught a hint of light in the gloom of the tunnels. They walked, Donnie silently leading the way through the sewers, turning corners at will.

“I’m – I’m figurin’ out how ta take care of it; not just basic stuff like oil changes.”

“Oh.” Donatello whispered, his fingers fidgeting against his elbows.

Raphael frowned and took his shoulder, forcing him to a stop with only a faint grunt as a warning as Don shrugged his hand off. “What’s wrong?” Raph snapped, hands on his hips, head dipping to stare his brother down.

Don shrugged, looking at the flow of sewage in the center of the tunnel. “Just…I’m melancholy today.”

“Huh?”

Donatello shot him a glare, but that was good, at least he was showing some form of an emotion.

He knew how he felt. They were connected because of it. But Donatello’s depression was starting to really worry him. He had never seen his brother take something this hard before. It was like he was giving up.

Stepping closer, backing Donatello up into the wall, he took him by the elbow, his other arm leaning against the wall as he moved in close, looming over him. “Donnie, ya ain’t been yerself for the past few weeks. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I goin’ ta have ta take this to Master Splinter?”

Donnie flinched at that and he looked away, rolling his shoulder in an attempt to shrug off Raph’s hand. It didn’t work this time, he held tight, fingers pressing into his flesh.

“Don.” His voice dipped, low and authoritative. He never thought he would do that. He was annoyed he sounded a little like Leo.

“I just wish they would stop.” His voice cracked and Raphael eased the grip he had on Donatello’s elbow.

“What do ya mean?”

The sewer echoed with the traffic above, moist and heady with miles of emptiness surrounding them in enclosed angles and turns. Raphael slid his hand along his arm and Donatello recoiled, his face twisting up and his fists rising to hide his face.

Raph gripped his wrists and pulled them away from his face, forcing Donatello to look at him.

“Donnie-“

“I don’t want to stay here.” His voice rushed out in a sob and he collapsed in on himself. “I just want to go away, forget about them. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

Raphael held him up, forcing him to remain standing even as Donnie’s knees wobbled and threatened to give out. He didn’t want to feel like this either. Day in, day out, watching them touch and kiss, watching them being a couple. It wasn’t like they were so focused on themselves that they didn’t interact with Donnie or him, but that was also part of the ache – they didn’t know and thus acted normal. Mikey laughed and teased him, Leo lectured him and they fought because of his anger; Mike pestered Donnie and tried to make him laugh while he worked on his projects, and Leo nagged Don about overworking himself.

Life was so normal that it was choking them alive. Little by little, suffocating them because Leo and Mike didn’t know they had two admirers right there in the same room as them.

“I want to run away.” Donatello whispered, hiccupping as he breathed around the emotion and the threat of tears.

“…Okay.”

Donnie’s head snapped up, moisture hanging along his eyes.

Raph’s heart pounded, drumming a frantic beat under his plastron. It was brilliant. Just leave. It’d give them time away from the turtle-doves so they could come to terms or get over them. Why not? Distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder – or whatever that meant. Probably had something to do with making good memories or something instead of thinking about the shit life gave you.

Donatello’s eyes widened and tears fell, toppling down in surprise. “What?”

“Let’s get the hell out of this city.” Raphael hissed, gripping his shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Let’s just go. You and me. We’ll leave this shit-hole in a cloud of dust and we’ll get away.”

“W-where?”

“Don’t care.” Raph said, and then he smirked as an idea popped into his head. “We’ll head out ta the farm first then make plans from there. We just got ta get out of here. Now.”

Donatello swallowed hard and Raphael knew that Donnie felt it, the excitement of just packing up and leaving, but he was too logical about it and was worrying.

“Shell, Donnie, don’t worry. Let’s just go. If Splinter can let Leo run off on his missions, he can let us do this for ourselves. Right?

“I…I don’t know-“

“Yeah ya do.” He licked his lips, never taking his eyes off of Don’s. Somehow it was important that they both get out of here; together. It was his fault, he had complicated things. Plus, if he weren’t here, Donnie would just sink further into his depression and regress further. He had to make sure Donnie got better – and that meant getting him out of this place.

The way Donnie looked up at him, lips trembling, Raph knew he had won. Donatello nodded, his hands shook as they gripped his wrists.

They moved quickly after that, heading home. They lucked out – Leo and Mike were done by this point, and the lair was silent. They worked late into the night, packing, transporting what they needed into the spare van. It consisted mostly of Donnie’s things; equipment, tools, first aid, food, all sorts of supplies that Raph found rather useless. But once they were packed and they stood back, sweat on their brows, hands on hips and swelling with triumph in their chests, Raphael allowed himself to take that one second to look at Donnie and note the faint glimmer of life flickering in his dark eyes like a candle in a heavy wind.

“I hope you were planning to say goodbye before you left.”

Turning together, Raph stiffened as Master Splinter moved toward them from out of the shadows, his walking stick clicking on the cement, his other hand behind his back with his whiskers twitching.

“Ah…”

“We need to leave for awhile.” Donatello answered, turning toward their father, that sadness overshadowing his face once again.

“I know.” Splinter said, stepping closer. He looked to Raphael, seeming to gauge his reaction before he reached for Donatello and cupped his face.

Donnie raised his eyes, so sad and misty and his hand shook as he touched his father’s knuckles.

“I know you do, my sons. I am glad that you both came to this realization on your own. I hope you will take the time your journey will offer you to work through the difficulties between you both.”

Raph’s brow twitched and he tilted his head.

“You take care of each other.”

“We will, Father.” Donnie whispered.

Splinter’s warm voice soothed them both and he took Raphael’s large hand in his small, spindly one and patted his knuckles. “Do not forget that you are out there to heal.”

“Father-“Donatello whispered, his face growing dark.

Splinter simply smiled taking them both in with measured looks. “I may be old, but I have not lost my mind. I know what it is that is wrong.” His eyes softened, growing sad for them. “I am sorry you both have been jilted and were given this trial. But you are very strong. I know you will work this out.”

Donatello nodded, swallowing hard. Raphael just stared at their father, his throat closing up.

With a hug and a final blessing and a request to stay safe, Splinter remained in the garage and watched as they piled into the car and drove off. Their father disappeared from the rearview mirror and Raph’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

It was a long trip, it always was. The trip to get out of the city typically took longer than the actual drive through the country roads to get to the farm. Donnie pulled out sandwiches halfway there and Raph eyed him, snorting at the smile Don threw him. Maybe all his nit-picky preparations weren’t for nothing.

When they pulled up to the farm, the sun hanging low and heavy in the sky, Raphael slipped out of the driver’s side to stretch and saw Donatello out of the corner of his eye, gazing up at the old farmhouse with a lost look.

Walking toward him, the gravel crunching under his feet, he took Don’s hand and tugged him inside. The screen door banged behind them, the cobwebs quivered, and all was still as they stood in the center of the dusty room, just taking a moment to breathe and feel the change.

Donatello smiled faintly – and seeing it hurt. Just looking at Donatello was like a punch to the gut. Donnie embodied everything in that moment; heartache, fear, despair. He looked to be holding hands with regret and relief; and Raphael felt the same. He wished his own feelings of failure, his feelings of inadequacy, of not being good enough to catch Leo’s eye…he just wanted them to go away. The loneliness, the lack of a future, it all came tumbling back because of that small smile from Donnie. So Raph did the only thing he could think of – he turned toward him and wrapped his arms about Donatello’s trembling form, and reached down and gripped his ass.

Donnie’s breathe shuddered with a laugh. Bowing his head, Donatello buried his face in the crook of Raph’s neck and finally sighed and his shoulders relaxed. It was strange and yet still comforting, holding him like this…while the lights were on and without any real intension for more. It still hurt, like his smile, but it was lighter between them now.

“I’ll unpack the car.” Donatello whispered, pulling away from him.

Raphael grunted and watched Don leave him. Only after he hopped off the porch did Raph realize something.

“Damnit Donnie, I ain’t cleaning up this house alone! I don’t do mops!”

A choked laugh drifted to his ears.


~~~~~*~~~~~



"And he smells!" Donnie pointed, a bit of beer sloshing out of the freshly opened bottle and he licked at his fingers to clean it up.

Raphael snorted, swallowing quickly then nodded, eyes wide. "Don't know what the hell he does, but sometimes he got this smell where he smells like road kill cactus!" He slurred out, waving his hand in the air. "Leo's got ta lay off the incense."

"Mmm!" Donatello slapped his hand on the table, knocking over their collection of just under a dozen beer cans, bottles, and the pizza box they had resting atop their carefully constructed building. It clattered and he crawled around the table on all fours, pinning Raphael down with wide, dark eyes. "I think he got high once!"

"Bullshit."

Donnie collapsed next to him, grabbing at his arm and Raphael snorted, rather amused. Don's such a lightweight. Who knew all he had to do was give the Brainiac a few beers and he'd let loose.

"True!" He tried to set his beer on the table but missed, tried a second time, managed to set it down but it toppled over and rolled under the table, leaving a golden trail of liquid spilling free. Donatello crawled onto Raph's lap to look him in the eyes as his brilliant solution to sitting up under his own power. "Nuh-uh! Yeah-huh..." He nodded to get his point across and Raph snickered, pushing him off his lap with a hand to the face. Donatello yelped and fell backward onto his carapace, laying there with a foot in the air and foggy eyes staring at the ceiling. "Yer a dick." He waved his foot in the air and tried in vain to roll over.

Raphael barked out a laugh.

Donatello grunted and gave up, his arms splaying out at his sides. "Leo smells weird!"

"Mikey's no bed of roses.”

"He smells like corn chips and cake."

"On a good day."

Donnie lifted a hand, wagging a finger aimlessly, "Yes! Or he smells like death! Bad buttrriii....Burtin....burri-itos." He drawled out.

"And Mike's got no personal space."

"A damn leech. And fumble fingers..."

"Butterfingers."

"Tha's what I said."

"Sure." Raphael grinned then reached for another beer. He really should have laid off. He'd have a bitch of a hangover tomorrow. Then again, they both were. To hell with it. "I bet Mikey likes ta pretend he's Silver Sentry come ta save the fuckin’ day when he fucks Leo."

Donatello snorted and a bit of spittle flew in the air. That only got them both laughing harder. "Or..." Donnie gasped, "Or he's the girl...." he finally managed to roll over, knocking one of the table legs and jolting it.

"In a dress!" Raphael could see it, ribbons and frills and lace, and even one of those little dogs in a handbag. He roared in laughter, falling backwards off the cushion he was sitting on.

"Leo would-wouldn't know how to fuck if his life depended on it. Probably thinks missionary style is all there is." Donnie snickered, hiccupping after a moment, his face flushed and tears in his eyes, "He gotta read a book before Mikey could do him." Raphael slapped a hand over his face and gasped for air, pounding a fist on the floor.

Their laughter filled the old farm house, chasing away spiders in the dusty rafters. Then Raphael pointed at Donnie from where they both lay, sprawled out and probably too drunk to piss. "You wanna bone that corn chip dweeb!"That just made Raph laugh again and Donnie couldn't see straight, giggling insanely at him for his laughter. “He probably farts when they do it!”

Donatello yelped and pressed a hand to his belly, his laughter suddenly silent as his body shook and his lungs closed up. With a gasp that ripped through him, Don waved his hand wildly, tears running down his face, "Shut....up....gonna....pee." He squealed.

Raphael lost it and he just lay there, listening to their drunken giggles. Donatello finally managed to drag himself to his hands and knees and crawled off to the bathroom, forgetting to turn the lights on, where bursts of laughter echoed from the open doorway.

It was just enough time apart though that Raphael gasped for breath and calmed down, grinning up at the rafters, thinking of all the stupid things they ranted about. How Leo was such a neat freak; how Mikey was a secret hoarder; how Leo probably measured everything in his room so that if Mike moved it, he'd know; or, how Mikey probably ate in bed; how Leo was probably a secret bondage freak....it was just nice to get everything out.

He didn't know how long it took him, but Raphael dragged himself to his feet, swaying dangerously. In a looping pattern he made his way toward the darkened bathroom and ran into the wall only once. As he relieved himself, leaning heavily upon the wall, he glanced over, realizing Donnie, hidden shadows and slivers of moonlight, was sitting in the tub, knees drawn up to his chest and face hidden. He grumbled about no privacy and finished up, wiping his hands carelessly on a wet washcloth.

"Don?"

"Go'way."

Raphael snorted at that and nearly tripped over his own feet, but he made it to the bathtub and fell into it, his head sliding down the side of the tub and stopping as his lips made contact with Don's thigh. He struggled to sit up, but finally gave up and focused on making Donnie uncurl himself. "Can't get up." He grumbled.

Donatello snorted and a faint shudder of laughter rolled over him and his muscles relaxed. Raphael managed to force him down and the Brainiac wrapped his arms about him, humming a little. He smelled good. Raph huffed and inhaled deeply, his fingers tracing patterns along his scutes. Donatello returned the drunken affection and nibbled on his neck.

"What's yer big brain thinkin' bout?" Raphael blinked slow and heavy.

Donatello nestled up to him, his movements uncoordinated and he probably would have poked him in the eye if Raphael's own hand hadn't moved on its own and flopped over the top of his. "About how much I wanna smell corn chips right now."

Thinking that over, his fingers like lead as he rubbed along Donnie's carapace, Raphael finally knotted his brows together and wrinkled his nose. "Don't get it. Why?" He yawned and Don rubbed at his stormy eyes. They were awfully pretty when Don wasn't trying so hard to be in control of himself. He was just as bad as Leo when it came to relaxing.

"I don't know." Donatello's sigh puffed over his face and Raphael wrinkled his nose, turning his head away from the sickly sweet ethanol scent of his breath.

"Dude, you are so wasted. Ya smell like a bar."

"Yeah, well…you need a bath."

Raphael snickered and Donatello giggled, hiding his face against Raphael's chest.

"Ya got me in the tub, so are ya gonna scrub my shell?" He grinned, an involuntary rumble rolling out of his chest and into the space between them as he dragged his hand along Don's side, feeling the warmth of the much softer skin hidden between carapace and plastron.

"Mmmmaybe." Donatello hummed and nuzzled him again, hands sliding along his hips. "I wish we could have been happy." He whispered, his voice faint and airy.

Raphael frowned, forcing his eyes open so he could stare at a funny looking stain on the wall that looked like one of those blob creatures in some of Mikey's monster movies. "Hnn." He didn't know what to say. His brain wasn't really working properly, but it was functioning just enough that he understood Don's words. "We will be. We got each other, 'member?"

Donatello swayed as he sat up, but he nodded and fumbled along Raphael’s shoulders. Sliding a thigh over his, Donnie settled himself atop him. Raphael raised a brow, grunted, and adjusted himself within the bathtub more comfortably. Don’s head lolled backward and he pushed himself up, holding himself up at arm’s length with his palms against his chest. “Just wanna forget.” He breathed, and suddenly rolled his hips, grinding himself against Raphael, the shadows and moonlight playing across his body with every movement he made.

A rush of air escaped Raph, alarm bells ringing in his ears even if he wasn’t sure why and he reached for him instantly, grabbing his hips. “Donnie?”

A soft churr escaped the smaller turtle, his eyes closed and a quiver raced down his body in an alluring way that Raphael found rather attractive.  He tried to sit up, but Donnie yelped as he moved and they tumbled back down and Raphael’s head thunked against the tub. Giggles snorted between them a heartbeat later. Raphael grinned, throwing an arm over Donatello’s shoulders and leaned his head back.

Don huffed against his throat, warm and gentle, his hands curling behind his head, feeling for the bump. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He grinned up at him.

With a churr against his throat and a shiver up under his shell, Raphael watched Donatello slide down his plastron an inch or two then push himself back up, eyes closed and head lolling to the side. It was subtle at first, just enough to make him smirk and run a warm palm along Don’s toned legs, but it was there, the give and take of his hips. An ocean of heat moved between them, slow and building as the moon rose higher and shone down on them through the tiny window in the Jones’ even tinier bathroom.

“Don?” he hummed, groping at his face till it was cupped and he could see his glazed and utterly dark and lost eyes. “Whatcha doin’?” he licked his lips and Donatello stared at his mouth, his lips just as moist and parted, his movements noticeable, deliberate, and hot.

Raphael hardened between his legs, his head leaning back while a hand fell away from Don’s face to grip the rim of the tub above his head. “Mmmmm, that’s nice.”

He hadn’t ever seen Donnie look this way. Then again, he hadn’t ever looked at him when they had sex. It was always in complete darkness or they turned away from one another when they spent their nights pretending with the sounds of the other two thumping against the wall.

It was a dream at first, hazy and warm with every touch they exchanged.  The little noises Don made caused his breath to catch and his hips to rise. He woke up though after some heated fumbling and a shaky hand with conditioner spilling between them as slicked fingers wrapped around his cock, tugging and coating, and just as quickly pulled away to reach behind. Donatello curled into himself and shuddered, his eyes like liquid ebony and his lips pouting and body rolling as he prepped himself – and all too quickly, Don’s body took him inside. Fingers clawed at his darker skin, his toes curled, and Donnie quivered above him, completely in the moment as he sank down onto his cock inch by inch, swallowing him whole in a tight embrace.

Donnie’s tail reached for his and curled against his. They hadn’t done that before, and Raphael lost his voice as his tail twisted and slid across Donnie’s. It felt so good. Why hadn’t they done that before?

Raphael gasped, his hands jerking at Don’s hips and though the alcohol made his thoughts slow, the fog lifted just enough as the heat of Donnie’s body washed away everything. The cold tub, his scent washed away the cabin, and his eyes catch the moon’s glow. He rode him, staring at him, eyes hooded and his body writhing above him as he bounced. Raph panted, hips snapping up, Donatello moaned, loud and hungry. Raph grit his teeth, head banging against the tub, and for the first time, he saw him. He saw Donatello, and his tail twisted and rubbed against Don’s, squeezing, tugging, and caressing more of those noises out of him.

Slow and hot; Raphael fumbled to sit up only to get pushed back down, one of Don’s hands on his chest, the other reaching between their bodies to wrap around his bobbing erection. Raphael sucked in a breath, his stomach twisting at the sight and he batted Donnie’s hand away. He seized Don’s flesh and he rubbed his palm across the weeping tip in a claiming action.

The genius wailed and churred deep in his chest, his hips rising and slapping back down to drive him inside.

Unable to sit up as Don leaned over him, one hand grabbing the edge of the bath in a white knuckled grip, he bounced him upon his lap, hissing in pleasure as Donnie clawed his arm. Raph pumped his slick shaft, eyes locked with those dark orbs before they rolled into the back of his head. Desire filled his nostrils with every breath, coating his lungs and leaving a heady taste upon his tongue.

Guttural cries rose between them, their skin slapping and skin sliding in heated motions. Donatello bit his lower lip, cooing and moving faster, sliding across his aching flesh, teasing his erection even as he soothed it and swallowed it whole. Teeth upon flesh, churrs rocking his body and vibrating through him; Raphael abruptly leaned forward, his teeth snapping at Don’s lower lip. He claimed it, biting down on it, his tongue sweeping across it and tasting him.  

Donatello whimpered and arched, his whole body stiffened and jerked against his, and his ass tightened and strangled his dick. Raphael snarled as he pumped him. Then it was as if sound lost all meaning and the look on Donatello’s face; the bliss, the joy, the pure need of what they had between them crossed Donnie’s face as the shadows shifted for a moment as the moon illuminated him. He had never seen that before and he drank it in, thrusting upwards and deep.

Donatello choked and fell into churring whimpers as he released. Ropes of cum splattered against Raph’s fingers and chest, coating him in their sticky warmth; his own orgasm exploded through him, violent and thick. He filled Donnie inside, moving through the climax with a rumbling churr.

He reached for his tail, rubbing along it and feeling his cum seeping free. He smeared his fingers across his ass and thighs, leaving Donnie wet and marked with his seed. He rumbled deep in his chest, nostrils flaring as pride filled him as he took in their mingled scent. It was intoxicating and it fogged his mind. He enjoyed the feel of him, in his lap, wiggling atop him with little purring chirps.

Don’s eyes closed, humming as he continued to move in small rocking motions. They panted and melted together. Donnie sank toward him, his brows pressing to his and Raph trailed his fingers up, his hand hovering near his cheek.

“Shimata…” Raphael hissed under his breath and Donatello shivered, forcing his eyes open. Huge and inky with waning lust and confusion, he sat up slowly and gasped for air. He shuddered and moved a little, and Raphael rumbled back, pushing his hips against his. Holding him in place, he stared in fascination as the aftershocks of sex pulsed deliciously up his spine; even if it hurt a little with how sensitive he was, he didn’t want to pull out.

Donatello purred and ran clumsy fingers across skin. “So good,” his head lolled back and a hand groped for one of his, holding tight to his fingers, “Mikey…”

Ice water gushed down his spine and Raphael locked up, jerking his hand away. Donatello, flushed and satiated above him, looked amazing. Yet with one word, Raphael’s heart stopped cold.

He suddenly realized why Donnie had made the no talking rule when they were together like this.

Donatello looked so – haunting. A thing made of glass and wires. A doll he held in his hands in the most pleasurable of ways, and yet, so fragile due to that look in his eyes; a pair of eyes that stared right back at him glazed and sad. Don’s brow knotted in the middle of his forehead and he closed his eyes and hid from him, his lower lip trembling.
Raphael swallowed hard as Donnie dipped forward a little, lifting himself off his quickly softening dick, and swayed above him on his hands and knees with a little puff of air.

“Raphie….”

He didn’t expect a single word to hurt so much.

"Just wanna forget." Donatello slurred, his words slipping out in exhausted exhales. He slid down, hiding against Raph’s shoulder.

Raphael rubbed at his face, shaken and tired and yet; it hurt for some reason and he knew if he were sober he would understand better; but this sucked. He should be enjoying the post coital bliss of sex right now and instead he just felt annoyed. “’Kay.” He whispered, staring at the funny stain on the wall and the chill of the porcelain returned. “I’ll make ya forget."

Donatello smiled and Raphael watched his eyes drop, sleep obviously about two seconds away from claiming his drunk ass. "You got a nice dick."

A bark of laughter erupted from him, startling Donatello, startling himself, and not easing the flips his belly made. "Well, shit, Donnie. I got ta get ya drunk more often."

"Mmmmm." Don responded before he passed out with a little sigh and curling his hand along Raphael’s jaw.

Throwing an arm over his eyes, uncertain about so much, he contented himself with keeping warm through Donnie. Even with the mirthful fog of a solid night of alcohol, sex, and good company, Raphael couldn’t shake this nagging feeling that Leonardo and Michelangelo were still here, right now, watching them like a ghost hanging over them. It bugged him, because he wanted to hear his name for once.


~~~~~*~~~~~



"St. Loius." Raph called out, lounging next to Don on the old musty sofa, throwing random destinations out. Every idea he offered thus far had been instantly shot down and all Donnie had accomplished in doing was to annoy him – which was fairly common over the last two days and he didn’t know why. It irked him. Could the turtle just pick a place already?

"I don't think so."

Raphael glared at him. At least Don had the decency to look sheepish.

He threw his hands in the air and they thumped back down along the back of the sofa sending bits of dust spiraling through the air. "Then where? I'm gettin' the impression you don't want ta stay in the US."

Donatello blinked at Raph, his eyes distant as he thought; and Raph got the distinct impression he had just set himself up for extra work.

"Maybe you're right." His finger tapped the edge of the book he held, eyes focusing on him once again with a flicker of a smile.

Exhaling loudly and dragging himself back up into a sitting position, Raphael groaned. "Where are we goin'?" Why fight it?

"Well, I've always wanted to go to a jungle."

Raphael stiffened and pulled his arms from the back of the couch and leaned forward on his knees. Irrational anger swelled in his chest and pushed passed his lips. "Sure, great idea. Let's head out onto the same mission Leo went on. That'll get my mind off him." He fumed and Donnie stared at him as if he had just kicked a puppy. He snorted and looked away, anywhere but at Don. He didn't go around telling him they should go off on a weeklong adventure to a skate park where they would fling whoopee-cushions and eat jelly bean pizza all day long.

It was stupid to be this mad, but if he was angry he could deny the part of him that wanted to genuinely go see what a jungle was like. To experience something Leo did. To be close to him in a weird way.

"Sorry." Donatello whispered, head bowing. Great. Now he felt like a dick. He shrugged his shoulders and shifted on the lumpy sofa. "Maybe we could go to a beach?"

Raphael sighed, and nodded, leaning back into the couch, his arm outstretched across it toward Donnie. That idea didn't seem half bad. "What about Kokomo?"

Donatello nearly did a spit-take as a laugh bubbled up from his belly and he slapped a hand over his mouth.

Raphael glared, "What? Its a beach. You listen to that type of music all the time." He hunched down in the sofa and folded his arms. "Thought you'd want ta go. It’s in Jamaica, right? Or is it the Bahamas?"

A bark escaped Donnie, and his face turned red as he laughed. "Kokomo is a family resort located in Indiana."

Well fuck him. What the hell? "How was I supposed to know the song lied!" He puffed up even though his embarrasment was complete.

Shifting on the sofa and setting his book aside, Don chuckled and patted Raphael’s arm, “Well if it helps, it’s also in reference to a little bar in the Florida Keyes.”
Donatello's smile caught his attention though and he reached over, punching him in the arm. "Shut up." He smirked and Don shrugged, his smile faltering just a tad as he rubbed his arm. His eyes darkened and he looked away then, tilting his head with a sigh escaping him. “It’s not a bad idea…”

Raph snorted and he tiled his head up, gazing at the dusty rafters overhead. “No, it’s a horrible idea. If ya want out of the states, we got ta get out of the states.”

“Then where?” Donnie asked, again shifting a little closer and Raphael watched him from the corner of his eyes as the right side of his body grew warm with his proximity.

Gradually relaxing, Raphael spread his arms across the top of the sofa, his knee bouncing. “Where would no one look for us?” Donatello snorted and Raph grinned. “Ya know what I mean.”

Shrugging, Donatello pulled his book – a travel book because he was always prepared – and he hummed, leaning back on the sofa, his head resting in the crook of Raph’s elbow.

Raphael stiffened, glancing to him. It wasn’t like he was leaning against him or snuggling. It was just the casualness of the touch. Don being familiar with him.

Suddenly the idea of being alone with him was weird. The sex at home was one thing; it became a defense mechanism against Leo and Mikey. Day in, day out, the two lovebirds rubbing it in their faces; making out on the couch, playing footsy at breakfast; Raph had clung to Donnie because while they were miserable, at least he wasn’t alone.

They had woken up yesterday in a sputtering, hung-over mess that resulted in Raphael listening to Donatello throw up in the toilet at six in the morning. He hadn’t been in any better shape, though he did hold his stomach. Later, after Don had stopped worshiping before the alter of the porcelain god, he found that dragging Don and himself back to the couch far more difficult. It ended with them giving up three-quarters of the way there and settling for dragging a blanket over them both on the floor.

They hid in the silence of the farmhouse the rest of the day, cursing their stupidity and half passing out on the floor amidst the evidence of a dozen beer bottles.

He didn’t really remember much about the night; but he did remember flashes of Donatello staring down at him in a mess of dark eyed lust.

Now, here, pressed against him, inches apart and his skin still smelling like him, Raphael felt weird, wired even. They hadn’t discussed what the sex would mean now that they were away from the lair.

It didn’t feel…right.

“Here.” Donatello suddenly said and sat up, drawing his legs up under him and leaning over Raphael, setting the book on his lap and pointing.

Raph grunted and sat up, looking at the book with a little chart and map.

“An island?”

“It has everything. Beaches, jungles, just enough tourism that it’ll be easy for us to sneak onto a plane and get there, and also just remote enough that we can really enjoy the isolation.” Donatello explained, then pointed to a little island in the center of it. “Here.”

“Tuko?”

Donatello shrugged then smiled sheepishly and Raphael raised a brow. He knew that look. It was the look that said this was going to take more effort than they originally expected. But then again, Donnie always had a sixth sense about what would work the best.

“What.” Raph glared, pushing the book back at him.

Taking the book back and settling it atop his knees, Donnie worried his lower lip, and Raphael blinked, staring at it. He hadn’t noticed his lips before – not like this anyway and he swallowed hard, shifting on the lumpy couch.

Donatello turned the page, pointing at the description. “Tuko is a private resort. So we’ll be able to have access to modern conveniences, but it’s also very remote. Only about 20 guests are allowed there at any given time. So factoring in possible staff; less than perhaps a hundred people are in this area. But…it will take quite a trip to get there.”

“How long of a trip?”

Don rubbed his nose and shifted uncomfortably. He was avoiding his eyes. He hated when he did that. It meant it was worse.

“See, the plane lands here and so we’ll have to take a bus or van to get to the pier-“

“Don, seriously?”

“It’s only an idea.” He mumbled, shoulders dropping and he quickly flipped through the pages, leaving the Tuko page behind.

Raphael frowned, watching him. Donnie was horrible at hiding disappointments. He could lie and snark right back amazingly well, but when it came to him hiding his emotions when it counted, he sucked. It was how Raph had figured out Donnie was just as miserable as him after Leo and Mikey had announced their faux-fucking-engagement.

Sighing loudly, Raphael grabbed for the book and flipped through the pages till he found that Tuko place and grunted in annoyance as he started reading the half page details on it. A picture at the bottom gave him an idea of what it would look like – and he had to admit, it looked nice. It had the beaches he wanted to experience for a change, and it had the jungles where he just knew Donnie would be going nuts; studying bugs and plants and climbing rocks to try and find some little known fungus that cured athlete’s foot or something. Trees wouldn’t be so bad. They could probably play a mean game of ninja tag in them.

He caught Don’s eyes and the smaller turtle half shrugged, half shifted in the seat, leaning back into the couch so his knees could draw up to his chest more comfortably.

Groaning and handing the book back, Raphael hid his face. It was going to be like a four hour travel time outside of the city after the plane landed; and that was if they were lucky not to be spotted  as they snuck out of countless cargo holds on countless planes. It was going to be a ninja nightmare.

Then again, he always did love a challenge. And Leo would have a fucking cow if he knew they were risking exposure like that.

A wicked grin curled over his lips and Donnie perked up, brows lifting, holding perfectly still.

“Let’s do it. You figure out the route, I’ll get our stuff packed away.”

That smile crawled over Donnie’s face once more and Raph smirked right back. Don needed this. Getting away from it was all Raphael needed, but Donatello needed a distraction, something to remind him that life wasn’t all about Michelangelo and Leo’s tonsil hockey contests on the couch.

He just wanted to forget and take out his anger on them after he got back. He could be pissed at the world – and at Leo specifically – for being a dense asshole who had to control everything because it was his anal-retentive OCD. Donatello though, he needed a reboot, a jumpstart back into remembering what was important.

“Thanks, Raphie.”

Raphael turned, staring at Donatello as he fingered the corner of the book, flipping the pages a few times.

“Yeah, no problem. Anything for you, Donnie-boy.” Raphael stood then, his hand landing atop Don’s head. He couldn’t bring himself to be more affectionate. It was weird touching him suddenly and he swallowed hard, confused as to why his belly twisted about like it did. So he settled on patting his head, grunting, and then walking away, intent on packing up needed gear in easy to carry packs.

He felt Donatello’s eyes follow him out of the room.

~~~~~*~~~~~
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