The first kiss is him and Mikey. Leo suspects Mikey was the one elected to invite Leo into the little group his brothers had formed since he was...gone (the polite word, the easy word, fitting for both the time physically away and the time as a raging, incoherent mess, mind stretched between two worlds).
Things are better now, but his brothers had formed a circle without him, one on whose edges Leo had found himself skirting for far too long. He thought he might find himself dancing forever, unable to take that final step, until the day Mikey had taken his face in his hands and said can I.
It was the first time anyone had ever asked him that in a situation like…this. Leo had taken three long, slow breaths before answering in the positive.
His brother's mouth tastes sweet, with a citrus, gathered along the edge of his jaw from the warm day and the time spent training. He presses in slowly, carefully, and Leo presses back, hands reaching up to Mikey's shoulders to steady himself (to remind himself where he is, that this is scales under his hand and not flesh).
It is nothing like the first time. It is everything like the first time. There is a faintly bitter taste in Leo's mouth, but Mikey's lips are soft, and he does not announce himself with sharp, cutting teeth. When he pulls his head back and looks Leo in the face, the look in his eyes is nothing short of wonder.
"Well, that was pretty radical, huh?" he asks, and Leo giggles, unable to help it. He can feel light bubbling under his skin, energy seeping into his veins until he swears he could dance around the room.
Mikey puts his hands behind his head, smirking. "The others are gonna be so pissed I got your first kiss, bro."
Just like that, the warm feeling disappears. Leo jerks away, just a little, but enough that his brother tenses at the sight.
"Mikey, you know...." Leo swallows, hands brushing at the back of his neck--angry at his brother for saying it, anger at his brother for saying it, angry at himself for reacting his way. "You know what wasn't my first kiss. Right?"
A mouth shoved up against his, hard enough to bruise. A mouth too big, too wrong, too hungry and sharp in all the wrong places. Breath sour from his face, the wrong eyes a heartbeat away from his. The taste hadn't made him gag as much as the sense of loss, permanent and cutting.
His hands dig in, hard enough to scratch. Then other hands reach up, wrapping around his fingers and gently pulling them away.
"Nobody’s saying that what....happened," Mikey's face works at that, fear, hurt, guilt and anger passing over his face like a storm in fast-forward," didn't happen. But that doesn't mean that this can't be your first, that we can't be your first, Leo. You deserve a good first."
The second time they kiss, it tastes bright and sunny like belief. Leo runs his fingers down his brother's shell, savoring every fragment of it, reminding himself who he is and where he belongs.
 
Donnie is more clinical about it. He sets them up in the lab, facing Leo across the surprisingly sturdy examination table. Leo listens to the hum of machinery around them, feels the creak and rustle of paper under his body. It should be distracting, irritating, and he doesn't quite understand why he finds it rather soothing instead.
He watches his brother spread his legs, give Leo a good look at his slit. It's the first clear look Leo's seen at a cock--a turtle's cock--aside from his own. He licks as he lips as they watch it emerge, purple opening into the light like a flower.
Leo's own cock starts to strain in his shell at his sight. He shivers a little, wondering what it'd look like compared to Donnie's, if Donnie will think it's worth the efforts, if he'll be excited by it or disinterested, distant, like--
What a curious little cock, you have, the ghosts whisper. Leo swallows hard, feeling his cheeks flush as his fingers dig into the bunk beneath him.
"As you can, nnh, see," Donnie rasps, doing his gamest attempt at his normal professor's voice, "the head is, aah, particularly sensitive." He rubs his thumb over the head of his cock, precum glistening, his fingers spread out along his length. "You c-can also run your fingers up and down the length, notice how--"
"I know how cocks work, Donnie," Leo says, and it's harsh, laden with meaning. He regrets it instantly, for several reasons, but he can't help himself; he's on edge, and his brother talking to him like a novice isn't helping anything. "I've got experience."
Donnie stiffens and stills, looking up at him. He lets go of his cock and settles back on his seat with a soft sight.
"I know." His voice is quiet, but he doesn't break eye contact with Leo. "But every body is different, even within the same species. Your body, your desires, are in a constant state of flux as you change and grow. And there's nothing wrong with taking the time to learn a little more, even for a leader."
He holds out a hand. It's slick with lube, but that's not the reason Leo hesitates to take it.
"We can always start the process anew," Donnie says, and his voice is shaking just a little. "Trust me."
And Leo always, always trusts his brother. He takes a breath and reaches out, letting Donnie guide a hand between his legs, letting his brother's voice quietly (although interspersed with a few pleasant moans and squeaks) tell him where to go, how exactly to touch and stroke and undo.
They don't quite pull off mutual masturbation the first time around--Leo's cock isn't fully hard until after Donnie's already come. Donnie clucks and says that these things happen, simultaneous orgasms are practically a myth anyway, gently guides Leo onto his back and reaches out.
He keeps pausing like a bastard and asking Leo what he wants and it's torture, but the good kind. Leo ends up savoring every touch, every second, letting his brother's fall around him like soft rain.
 
The first he tries to give one of his brothers a blowjob, it's a disaster. No other way to say it, really. All the soft words and grounding exercises in the world can't keep back a swirl of tears, vomit, white-hot terror, air screeching in his lungs as he remembers how to breathe. They hold him as he cries and shakes and hates himself.
Later on, Raph sits in front of him, not bothering to try hiding his scratched-up legs, even as he refuses to let Leo apologize for them.
"You don't have to figure it all out now," he says. "You don't have to suck anybody's dick, ever, if you don't feel like it. You could take a week or a month or until the end of fucking time."
"I know that," Leo says, looking down at his tangled hands.
"Look me in the eye and say that."
Leo's head jerks up, hands coming to press against Raph's shoulders. "I. Know. That," he says, and it's meant to be dramatic, bitchy, but something about the moment makes it feel real, more real than it had been before.
Raph's lips quirk up into a grin and Leo finds himself smiling back, just a little. He leans into a kiss, reshaping himself against the press of his brother's mouth.
Later on, Raph sits Leo down in a chair and kneels in front of him. "Bastard ever such your dick?" he asks, casually, with only the faintest tightens in his jaw. He's always been relatively blunt about what happened to Leo, a way that's refreshing enough when balanced with Mikey and Donnie's more careful treatment.
"A few times." Saki didn't really enjoy such a submissive position, but sometimes he'd put Leo on his back and go to town between his legs, just to establish dominance that way instead. "Not...not this position, though."
"Okay." Raph takes a deep, slow breath and rests his hands on Leo's hips. "This good?"
"Less pressure." Raph complies, a few of his fingertips lifting away. "No--keep your fingers there. All three." Three fingertips are good, they're discovered. Three points keeps a chair standing, three points keeps Leo in this reality, at least as much as anything can.
"All right." Raph gets his hands just right and leans forward, breath warms against Leo's crotch. Leo squirms at the touch, pulse fluttering just a little. He reaches out to plant his hands on Raph's shoulders, caressing the curve of muscles more familiar than his own.
"I'm going to take it slow, okay?" Raph says. "And I'll check in with you from time to time, make sure all's good. If you want to stop, we'll stop and go watch TV."
"I know that," Leo says, and this time, Raph believes him. He leans forward with a soft sigh, and the first touch of tongue to scale makes Leo jolt his chair.
He cries after he comes into his brother's mouth, but it's the good kind of crying, the kind that feels like waking up after a long dream. Raph holds him close and scratches gentle fingers down his scalp, humming an old lullaby from their youth.
 
Leo watches them in bed several times before he joins in. He sits in the corner, slowly getting used to the way they touch each other, hold each other, bring each other pleasure. 
It feels a little weird to stare at them like this, but they're all so clearly excited about performing for him, showing off, explaining to him exactly how each step of the process works. Sometimes he has to slip off the door, overwhelmed, but slowly he re-acclimates to the atmosphere of heat and sweat and bodies in motion.
He knows they could let him sit and watch forever when he wanted, but eventually he decides that's not what he wants. And a little while after that, he decides he's ready to take the next step, to go up to them and shyly ask to be included in the night's "activities."
Things start off slow, almost frustratingly slow. They have to figure out the position Leo feels most comfortable, whether he's going to need to see the door, whether they need a safeword. He's feeling guilty and frustrated, but his brother's hands are soft and their voices are patient and they seem so happy to be working for his comfort, genuinely happy, and that makes it all easier, just a little bit.
They end up with him on his shell, the others gathered around him. He'd chosen Raph to "pop his cherry" as they've all been calling it, even though he knows it's wrong, knows it doesn't make sense. Does it?
"Mikey and I can back off," Donnie offers. "Give you some space--"
"No," Leo says, voice firm. "No, I...I want you all to touch me." He won't be alone in his bed with demons and shadows, not ever again, and he wants every single one of them to carry him through.
And they do what he asks. Mikey and Donnie run their hands over his body, soft and gentle, touching all the sensitive places he's been discovering with them over the past few months. Raph slicks up his hands and carefully nudges Leo's legs apart, slipping thick fingers between his thighs.
Once, prep was only ever a means to an end. Recently, he's begun to explore the possibility of fingering itself being a pleasure, learning to anticipate each fresh finger scissoring inside.He does have to call a pause a few times, and they always listen, Raph gently removing his fingers while the others wait and watch.
They let Leo take a few deep breaths and wait until his say-so before starting back up again. He muses that the little assholes are obeying better than they ever did in the field, but this feels stronger than obedience, deeper and warmer and right.
"You ready?" Raph finally asks, and Leo takes a moment to take stock of himself, his body, the people touching with nothing, but the greatest, truest love in their eyes. He feels safer than he has in a very, very long time, and the thought almost breaks him to tears.
"Fuck yes," he whispers, and reaches out to drag hunger fingers along his brother's hips, dragging him close.
When his brother sinks inside, Leo gasps like a drowning man who's finally reached the shore. Raph pauses to let Leo adjust, waits until Leo's practically begging him to continue, more, more please. Then he smiles and lunges forward, pressing his lips to Leo's while rattling him with thrust after almighty thrust.
The others keep kissing and touching them both all the way, savoring Leo as if he's the most precious thing in the world, in any other world. It makes him sob, but again, it's the good kind, and he reaches them desperately, frantic to be touched and be touched, overwhelmed by feelings he can confidently say are like nothing he's ever experienced.
Angel, they call him. Beloved, beautiful, perfect, pristine, a gift they once feared they'd lost forever. And he believes them more deeply and strongly than he ever has before.
Leo shakes apart in their arms while they watch him disintegrate, holding him all the way through. Then they help him stitch himself back together, letting him open his eyes onto a world made anew.