Mikey's dancing in a house full of monsters, twirling and leaping to the beat with the same reckless energy he brings to his katas. The music seems to vibrate through the very material of his shell--he pictures it coming undone, scales unfolding into dragon wings with razor edges.

A serial killer topples against him, running a bloodstained hands up his chest as she babbles along to the lyrics, mixing the words up and throwing in a few new ones. A vampiress comes along and scoops her up, bears her away, nibbling playfully at her neck with ivory fangs.

A goblin takes her place, slapping his claws together as his dark hair escapes the mask to flare around his head. "Cool party, baby doll," he croons, and then gets swept away by a tag-team of a sexy pumpkin and a cheerfully blood-splattered cop.

It's Halloween, or close enough that people really don't care about the specifics, and Mikey is choking on the raw and wild heat. He's covered in himself in a tangle of colorful ribbons and glowing body paint--no specific designs, since they'd be a runny mess by now anyone. He is a swirl of pure color, enough to draw any eye--a dangerous aspect for ninja.

He fucking loves it. Loves the taste of booze in his mouth, loves the smell of perfume and vomit, loves the scratch of gum under his feet. Loves the sea witch trying to cop a feel, loves the half-naked lumberjack dancing on a table, loves the Batgirl throwing up in a corner as Harley Quinn holds back her hair. Loves them all so much his heart might shatter like a star gone supernova.

And he loves the weight of eyes on him--on him, never leaving, never changing. Loves the weight of his big brother's attention, his disapproval, his concern, and the faintest strains of his arousal.

Because Donnie is aroused, of course he is. Mikey would knew even if he couldn't smell his arousal, drink him in with each gulping breath. He can see his breaths flutter that hooded coat he obviously doesn't know is so ridiculously hot. He knows it, and it turns him on even more than he already is.

Of course, Donnie's probably not the only turned on by him. Really, who wouldn't be? Mikey's magic on the dance floor, always has been. That's not bragging, that's the plain and simple truth. 

He learned how to dance with his brothers, with impromptu parties gathered around a creaky radio. He learned how to dance sexy alone in his room, wearing his headphones and always tracking down the most obscene lyrics, training himself in the style of all the great masters.

Mikeys used to dream of twirling before a crowd, their eyes deep and hungry, ready to rip him to shreds at a moment's notices. He dreams of being devoured, spread out and feasted upon, and he loves it the way he loves everything tonight. 

There's still a knot of people between him and Don and he can feel big brother waiting, trying to make his move. Leo would already be slipping elegantly through the knot of bodies like a shadow, while Raph would just bull through, but Don is too easily caught up in the options.

He doesn't want to draw attention, not even a little--at least, he doesn't think he does. And to be honest, none of them are really used to crowds that they're not expected to beat up. It took MIkey a while to work up the courage to get this far; he's surprised Donnie managed to go so quick ly in one night.

Mikey wants to helpful, so Donnie make sure to always keep his eyes on him, to twerk and twirl and bend so that Don, not to mention everyone else in the club, gets a heaping eyeful of his assets. He can feel covetous glances running over the curve of his ass, the sweep of his thighs, the muscles that are still fairly impressive even if they're nowhere near Raph's.

He throws his head back, feeling impossibly light. He's dancing in the space between everything--between Hamato and Foot, between hiding in the Sewer and hiding in the shadows, between boy and girl, between man and woman. He's lightning in a bottle, and no one can catch him.

Donnie's drawn in, he can tell, but someone else gets there first. Frankenstein's Bride, all red and black and ghastly ivory like Snow White, mirror-bright eyes winking. "Mind if I cut in?" she asks. Her velvet skirt rustles over Mikey's scales and he leans into it, saving this rare luxury.

"Sure, Mrs. F." Mikey leans in and welcomes the grinding, hips to hips and growing hardness to growing hardness. Hands find his ass and he leans into the touch with a growing, wriggling his tail as a signal that only one set of eyes will catch.

"Let's put on a show," he says, because it's not just Donnie he wants to see, it's all of them. He pushes one of the Bride's hands between his legs, letting out a wanton moan, reaching under that velvet skirt to fondle taut, trembling buttocks.

Mrs. F figures out the score pretty fast and starts pushing and touching, exploring. Mikey groans again, louder, leaning back so Mrs. F can nibble on his neck and so that everyone can see his flushed face, fluttering eyelashes.

He turns over the possibility of Mrs. F figuring out something's off with his junk, although sadly Mikey hasn't compared it to enough people to know if there are any noticeable differences. Would there be screaming? Crying? Panic? Would there be eyes, more eyes than he could ever bear? He groans, turned on and terrified in equal measure.

There are people watching him now, lust spiking through the room. An elf brushes a half-accidental finger along with leg and Mikey leans into the touch, into the swirl of emboldened hands creeping across his skin.

Donnie's arousal is growing thicker and stronger, although that might just be because he's...yes, Mikey can see him bumping awkwardly through the crowd. He wriggles his hips harder than ever, pushing up against Mrs. F so he can throw out his fine green behind for the entire club to see.

The taste of Donnie's want is like a searchlight, like a fine artist painting his skin, aromas wafting from three-layer cheese. Mikey's eating it up--but it's not enough, maybe it can't ever be enough. They could bathe him with glitter and love and his hungry, hungry heart would always want more.

But Donnie at least does his best to his oblige, like always. He's here now, a warm hand resting on Mikey's arm and bringing him slightly back to earth, although definitely not as thoroughly as he hopes. "Mikey," he says, raising his voice as loud as he dares. "Mikey!"

Mikey lets him call twice before turning with a bratty grin. "What?"

"Oh, honey, is this your treasure?" Mrs. F traces slender fingers down Donnie's chest and he stiffens, but doesn't pull away."Don't be jealous, darling," she chides. "I can share."

"That's very nice, ma'am, but, uh--we have a prior engagement," Donnie sputters, going beet red. Mikey can't help snickering at the sight, even as he reaches out to let Donnie take his hand.

Before they can move, though, he turns to blow Mrs. F a kiss. "Thanks for the twirl!" he calls, and she giggles.

"Can we go?" Donnie asks, tugging him away.

"Sure," Mikey replies, wrapping his arms around his brother with a wink. Then he's whirling them across the dance floor, skillfully dipping and weaving his brother between the mob, grinning as Don's eyes go wide with a barely suppressed exhilaration. Mikey presses his hips to his brothers--and yes, yes, there's that lovely hardness.

His brother makes a half-hearted effort towards the exit, but Mikey pulls him towards the bathroom instead. They tumble instead--it's filthy and smells like hell, but Mikey doesn't care right now. The girl finishing up her Joker makeup gives a casual wave as Mikey maneuvers Donnie into a stall and locks it behind them, locking it with a giggle.

"What the fuck are you thinking?" Donnie demands in Japanese, eyes darting back and forth anxiously. "I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you on CCTV! Are you trying to get caught?"

"What were you doing on CCTV?" Mikey asks innocently.

"Looking for you because I couldn't hear your snoring and for a second I thought you'd been kidnapped!" Donnie yells.

Mikey blinks--he really hadn't thought of that, that Donnie might scared. "I, uh...sorry, dude."

"You're sorry? Good. Then you'll come home with me before we wind up vivisected." Mikey looks at him and Donnie groans. "That chopped up."

"I know what it means, dude, I just don't get why you're worrying."

before Raph finds out and kills us, and Leo works over what's left, and Splinter buries the remains in his herb garden."

Mikey cocks his head, looking at him thoughtfully. "You didn't tell them."

"What?"

"Not Raph, not Leo, not Splinter. You didn't tell them." He'd panicked a little when he saw Donnie in the club the first time, but he hadn't been able to pick up on anyone else, and now Donnie is confirming it.

"No! I didn't want to get you in trouble!"

"Since when is that a concern of yours?" Donnie opens his mouth to answer, but Mikey puts a finger to his lips. "Did you want to punish me yourself, maybe? Work me over with those nice, strong hands of yours until I can't sit down for a week?"

Donnie goes red in a way that suggests there was a part of him that did indeed feel like that, tucked away in the back of his mind. "I..."

"Or you were curious," Mikey says, tapping his chin thoughtfully the way he's seen Donnie do when confronting a particularly difficult problem. "Curious about what I'd be going out for, because god knows I don't battle evil or track down candles on my nights off. Curious about what makes me fly, and whether you could got come along.

He reaches up, cupping his brother's face. "And you liked what you saw, didn't you?" Donnie makes a half-hearted attempt to shake his head, but Mikey doesn't let him. "Hush, don't deny it. It's all right." He smiles, taking another deep breath. "I could smell you then, big brother. I can smell you now."

Mikey leans forward, ever so slightly, licking his lips and gazing right into his brother's eyes. Donnie looks away, swallowing. "Mikey..."

"You liked watching me, didn't you?" Mikey grinds up just a little and...bingo. Donnie's getting harder by the second. "See me dancing with that darling dame. Feeling all those eyes on me, seeing me act like a little slut and loving every minute of it."

He nibbles at Donnie's neck, soft and teasing. "Were you jealous, baby? Did you want to take me in front of them, maybe? Snatch me far away, stash me somewhere no one would ever get to see me?"

He nibbles against Donnie's neck and his brother leans into with a groan. "Or maybe you wanted to be the center of attention instead."

Mikey leans forward, gently tugging Donnie into a kiss, and his brother jerks up against him with a groan, hands flying down to squeeze Mikey's ass as they nibble and suck as each other's mouths. Donnie's hard, so hard, and Mikey's hard too, has really been since he first stepped into the cloud and felt the swirl of eyes, eyes, eyes, everybody looking at each other and wanting.

Donnie pushes up against the wall with an animalistic growl, hands sliding to Mikey's thighs as they continue to kiss. But then the bathroom doors bangs open, laughter flowing out as more people spill in, and Donnie's head jerks back with a look of panic. "We can't--"

"Oh, yes," Mikey purrs. "It would be so awful. Seeing you..." His hands brush down his brother's chest, towards his slit. "....in your sweet and smart and sexy glory, with this gorgeous coat," he grabs for the hem and hikes it up, "...and your ass on full display. Out of the lab for once, taking a load off, free in way they can barely see."  

He shifts to English, leaning forward to murmur in Donnie's ear. "Seeing me in your arms, flushed and horny and lost, glittering like a diamond. All yours, yours, yours, and they could look all they wanted, but they couldn't touch, not ever, because we'd ab-so-lute-ly fucking destroy them."

Donnie's pupils are blown out. "No," he breathes, barely seeming to hear himself say it.

"No?" Mikey asks. He lets himself drop down, and Donnie suck in a breath at the sight. "No? You don't want to risk them seeing your pretty, pretty cock, how big it looks in my hands. The way you fucking shine among all the trash? You think they won't love it? That they won't look in here and want us both so much they wouldn't even care what they are?"

Donnie stares. "I..."

"We're not freaks right now. We're gods. We're the men behind the curtain and I, for one," Mikey leans back against the side wall and spreads his legs, giving Donnie a good look as he runs a hand up his cock, "am going to take the opportunity to do whatever the fuck I want."

He sticks his fingers in his mouth with one hand as he touches himself with other, moaning softly around them, his hips rolling in slow, elegant ripples. Donnie watches, mouth slightly open, so clearly hypnotized it's almost funny.

The people in the bathroom are still talking, but he can hear their voices lower a little, drown by the soft sounds coming from the stall. Mikey winks at Donnie and plucks his fingers out of his mouth, reaching down to toy with his rim instead. He opens his mouth to let out a really big noise--

And Donnie's on him in an instant, crushing their mouths together, shock and hunger warring in his eyes. If he'd said stop, if he'd meant it, Mikey would have. But he didn't, and he can see the understanding feel Donnie's eyes, the realization that they're both in free fall and he doesn't really want to land.

Mikey rubs his cock between his brother's legs and that's all Donnie needs to drop down, length rubbing against Mikey's as their eyes roll up in their heads. Mikey preps himself roughly--he's still loose from earlier today with Raph, and he doesn't mind a bit of pain. Especially when he forces Donnie inside, both them panting at the sensation.

Their bodies rattle together, slamming back and forth against the wall as they spill churrs into each other's mouth. Mikey clenches, trying to force Donnie in, to get him to fuck hard enough to bring the goddamn building down.

The people outside can hear them. Might be imagining them, maybe, or trying to, because Mikey and Donnie defy imagination. They are gleaming stars, and people will only ever get glimpses of your true glory. His hand speeds up on both their cocks at the thought.

He rips his mouth away from Donnie's to groan in his ear. "They're going to open the door. They're going to come in, they're going to see me with my fingers up my ass, they're going to see the bites on your neck, they're going to see how hot we are together, and they won't be able to take it. It'll fucking kill them. Blow their fucking minds. We'll have fucked the whole club to death by the time they do."

He raises his voice and yells, "Fuck!" The words echo, more than loud enough for the strangers to hear, for the world to hear. "Fucking hell, baby boy, show me what ya got!"

"Crazy..." Donnie rasps. He peers up at Mikey, eyes glazed "You're crazy."

Mikey just chuckles. "So--hnh--are you, Donnie darling." He leans forward, feeling like he might pass out on the crashing, building waves of his brother's scent. "What're you gonna do it about I?"

In answer, Donnie growls and smashes their lips together again. They're pushing and clawing at each other, frantically, stall rattling at they tear at every exposed inch of skin.

"Shit," Donnie hisses in Japanese. "Shit, Mikey, fucking hell..." He groans, and the sound is more precious than any sound 

The people in the bathroom outside are listening, rapt. Mikey thinks he can hear one of them sigh, and he throws his head back to let out an answering wail. His brother roars, squeezing Mikey's hard enough to bruise as the pleasure tears through them.

"Faster, baby," and Mikey doesn't even care how fucking cliche he sounds, this is his show and he sets the tune. "Burn me the fuck up!"

He's done this enough that when he feels Donnie's climax approaching, he can slide off his cock on a wave of precome and elegantly maneuver them over the toilet. Donnie yelps at the change in sensation, spasming like goddamn Old Faithful.

The sight of one of his brothers losing his shit like this because of him sends Mikey over the age soon after, the way it often does. Their cries, strange noises somewhere between a churr and a shriek, echo off the walls of the stall and into the larger bathroom.

Silence, then applause, accompanied by whoops and wolf whistles. Donnie sags back against the wall, looking worn-out and deliciously embarrassed. Mikey stands on his toes and yells, "Thank you, thank you! We'll be here all week!" Donnie slugs him and Mikey cackles.

They huddle there, panting, as the people file out of the bathroom, still chatting and laughing. Eventually Mikey glances up at Donnie with a smirk. "Fun, huh?" He tucks himself away with a final graceful shimmy.

Donnie rolls his eyes as he bends over to flush the toilet, carefully putting his cock away. "If by fun you mean something ridiculously stupid and dangerous that I'd never do if you didn't make me so damn cock-stupid, then yes. Fun." His eyes are bright, but his voice. "Now, we're going home."

Mikey groans. "Really? One more dance?"

"I might consider letting you visit one of these death traps again, if we're not grounded for life when we get home. But it's over for now." At Mikey's pout he shakes his head with a sigh. "And we'll steal Halloween sugar cookies on the way home."

"Yeah!" Mikey gives Donnie a peck on the cheek. "You're the best big brother ever!" He moves to skip out of the stall, but Donnie grabs him out of the arm.

"And Mikey?" There's still leftover redness in Donnie's cheeks, but his eyes are cold and hard as steel. "You weren't wrong about the punishment thing. Although you'll be lucky if it's just a week."

"Oh..." Mikey feels a delicious little shiver creep up his spine. The things to come are gonna be rough.