Out of My Shell

Chapter 15: Parapraxis

Chapter 15: Parapraxis

Donnie blinked and picked up his feet, following behind at a reasonably nervous distance.
Raph's room. When was the last time he'd really been there? Probably not since they were kids. They just never bro-ed out that often anymore, at least, not just the two of them. He used to often seek refuge there when they were little from nightmares or whatnot... when Raph wasn't picking on him....
Come to think of it, maybe that's why he'd stopped coming.
His musings came to a halt as the two stood before the steel Stop-signed door. Donnie's heart twittered and tripped a little in his chest. It was the same feeling he got right before he stepped into enemy lines—caught standing on the edge of his own element.
This was Raphael's territory. Raph's space, Raph's haven... Raph's bed. And while this place never possessed such otherworldly characteristics before, as Raphael pushed past the viable warning and led them inside, there was something about it that made him feel as though he had cast himself into the Exposed.
His heart leaped to his throat, his eyes quickly ambled along the familiar posters of action movies on the wall, to the drum-set in the corner.... anywhere to distract himself from the glaring single bed that ruled the space.
But it was impossible to ignore. And soon the quiet panic set his mouth dry.
"U-uh... Um...."
Raphael hardly noticed the state of his nerves, rummaging through a large wooden trunk at foot of the bed. And now Donnie's thoughts ran a little wild.
One bed. Of course there was only one bed! That was fine. H-He and Raph would obviously have to share. That was fine.
The bed was... average. Twin sized. Approximately 38 by 75 inches long. Everything was totally normal and fine. That could totally fit two giant mutant turtles.... comfortably....
Donatello didn't notice the blushed, frightened look on his face as his brain further careened into delusion. He quickly started doing the math, imagining the two of them trying to occupy that small space... their bodies practically crushed together.... Raph's body heat....
He almost forgot how to breathe.
"You take the bed, Donnie."
"...H-H-Huh, what?!" The words jarred him violently from his thoughts. It was only now he noticed Raph was completely on the other side of the room, carefully moving his drum set from its regular place to the wayside.
Donnie looked around. It took a moment to re-process his words, nervously twirling his fingers. "...W-Where will you sleep?"
Raph glanced back and unfurled the long roll of brown fabric he'd tucked under his arm. "I found this hammock a while back I've been meanin' to try—figured tonight's a good night for it," he answered and casually tossed a line up to the single jetting pipe that ran through the ceiling above.
Donnie blinked. Well, that was... chivalrous of him.
....Maybe.
Though it did leave Donnie feeling slightly guilty for robbing him of his bedroom comfort. "A-Are you sure?" he ventured.
Raph gave him a look. "...Unless ya want me to sleep in the same bed as you." His voice carried that sarcastic edge.
Donnie's eyes grew wide. "N-nnn-no. I'm good!" he stammered quickly.
Raph fastened the last line off, and, satisfied it was sturdy, went to gather an extra pillow and blanket from the trunk. "...So are ya just gonna stand there like some awkward green twig or do you plan on sleepin' at some point?"
Donnie instantly stiffened. "Um! YES!" He picked up his feet, walking briskly over to the bed and sat down.
"Blanket's on the floor," he ordered.
As per invitation, Donnie deftly pulled the old Chinese tiger-print comforter from the floor and up to his chest as Raphael stood back to lazily admire his work.
"Not bad," he complimented himself. If it was comfortable he might consider making it a permanent feature. So Raph pushed the pillow and blanket inside, situating them just so and carefully balanced and maneuvered his way inside; settling in and he stared up at the concrete ceiling in thought.
"Yep," he decided. "Definitely a good idea." He turned around to face the wall. "G'night, Donnie."
"....Goodnight."
"And... hey..." he glanced back at second thought. "...Don't worry about that thing comin' back, okay? I've got your back."
Donnie nodded carefully. "...Thank you, Raph."
"No problem," he answered. "G'night Don."
"Goodnight."
The light turned out. Raphael turned back to the wall and all was quiet.
Too quiet. Painfully so.
But that was how it should be. Raphael shut his eyes tight. Donnie's presence was like an exclamation point in the room, glaring into the back of his shell....
But he refused to look back. He had an obligation and an image to keep. It was his job to make sure Donnie felt comfortable and safe for the night. And that was exactly what he was going to do. Questions and conversations about earlier events could remain at a stale-mate until tomorrow.
He kind of preferred it that way anyway. He was much too tired... nerve-struck as he was. It was time for him to be the big brother. And so he kept to the wall and to the quiet.
But lying beneath the pale glow of the jack-o-lantern night light, Donnie was as far away from sleep as he could be. His eyes trailed carefully over to his brother. The small, golden light traced perfect patterns along the back of his shell.... from the nape of his neck, all the way down the subtly pronounced curve of his spine....
Raph shifted a little in the hammock and Don's eyes darted away. After a moment, he adjusted as well, pulling the old comforter to his chin and nestling deeper into the pillows, if only just to wreck the silence.
And although the comforter still vaguely held that regular funk of age and sewer must, there was also something in it that was distinctly Raphael's.
It was.... heady—masculine.
His toes curled, acutely aware of the almost sinful way it filled his nose. But it was all so comfortable. He shut his eyes and lazily turned over each note in his head.
Leather.
--Metal.
Sweat...
...Bravery.
Raph.
Donnie eyes opened once more and that hushed light mapped every detail. Every curve and arch of muscle.... the strong carriage of his body....
It... definitely complimented his features nicely, he thought. Almost confusingly so. And it somehow drew from him a small wish that he wasn't so far away.
...Though that was absurd, right? Perhaps it was just an after effect of his nightmare.... the small, uneasiness of not wanting to be alone after a fright.
"...R-Raph?" His voice was small, the question just a nervous point of venture.
But no answer returned except for the slow even breaths of sleep. Both disappointed and relieved, Donatello's eyes then swept to the dull cracks and funny stains in the brick above and he began to pick the situation apart once more.
...That Raph, his brother, wanted him. Desired him.
....What did that even mean?!
He had tried to align the events together several times now, arranging them like variables to a complex equation. And they all had him leaning on the conclusion that this was something.... physical.
Which.... it wasn't like they were completely unfamiliar to this aspect of their nature. There were many exercises in ninjitsu alone that dealt with this sort of thing. Master Splinter had always taken into account both their physical and mental maturity. He was sure every one of them had their own unique coping means.
But Raph...
Donnie swallowed. What he was toying with was something crazy! Completely taboo! And the messed up part was, while science dictated he should be completely disturbed and repulsed by the notion, there was something about it that repeatedly gave him pause.
And that was sort of confusing... but... he sort of understood his brother's frustration.
T-That.... didn't mean they should cross certain boundaries or anything, of course! That would be completely wrong...... and.... complicated....
Donnie sighed sleepily. That scent filled his senses once more and his thoughts grew murky, eyelids heavy with the prospect of sleep.
....Raph really smelled good.
--
.
Breathe.
Donnie's eyes flew open, instantly awakened by his own discomfort. His chest felt heavy and taut. Actually, all of him did. His muscles.... His shell.... It was almost uncomfortable for him to breathe.
It was like he had gotten his butt kicked by every one in the Foot Clan twice... only he had somehow managed to escape with no injury....
That, or he had engaged in some psycho-extensive training session in his sleep.
It was weird. And there seemed to be no perceivable reason for it.
Grunting in discomfort, Donnie forced himself upright and stretched his arms out as far as they could go, idly looking over to the hammock beside him.
That's right. He had slept in Raph's room last night. Raph must have woken up before him. Donnie swung a leg over the side of the bed and again felt that tightness clutch at his insides once more and he grasped the edge of his bed.
He almost felt a little... woozy.
Perhaps he had slept weird.... or... maybe, Raph's bed was too small...?
He wasn't sure what it was or... what to think of it. All he knew was something smelled really good out in the main room. Really, really good.
Whatever Mikey was cooking, he wanted it.
No. He needed it.
Donatello's eyes dilated, his fingers twisting strangely into the bedsheets and with a shuddering growl he got up and stalked his way to the main room.
--
Raph quirked a brow beneath his mask and shook his head pitifully down at his younger brother.
It was almost too sad to watch.
...Almost.
"There is no way this is gonna work. Face it, Mikey! Ya can't break Master Splinter. You heard what he said last night about being resourceful..."
"I'm done being resourceful," he replied curtly.
"Hey, I don't like it any more than you do." Raph leaned back lazily against the wall, his arms folded to his chest in thought. "We have algae and worms down by the pools."
"I'm not about that life anymore, Raph!" Mikey turned exasperated on his heel. "I'm tired of this! I'm a teenager! I have needs~! And one of those is pizza." He pulled out a picture from his belt pocket and trailed his fingers down it lovingly. "...I'm afraid soon I'll start to forget the sweet touch of your stuffed crust~" he murmured.
Raph just stared dully at his brother. It was simply too early in the evening for his antics. "Will ya just... think of somethin' already?!" he snapped. "I'm starvin' here!"
"I have and I will. Watch and learn, bro."
Mikey reached over the counter and dipped his fingers into what appeared to be some kind of jar of pink paint and smeared a few lines across his freckled cheeks. His eyes narrowed seriously and he pulled out what appeared to be a ceremonial necklace made of congealed ham and garlic and, closing his eyes, hung it over his shoulders.
Raphael wrinkled his nose in disgust, vaguely wondering where he had been hiding that.
Again. Too early for his antics.
Mikey then sat down crisscross in the center of the floor and he pulled his knees pulled in tight... an unusual sharpness set into his features. He became a picture of focus, almost eerily similar to the way Leo did before he meditated.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and....
"Hohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm~"
Raph watched in irritable disinterest, wondering idly how long he could keep that up before he needed to breathe.
"Hohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm~"
Leonardo heard the sound and paused from the dojo door, looking in on the unusual scene and turned to Raph. "What is he doing?"
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm—"
"...Not makin' breakfast apparently!!" He yelled down, but again he was ignored with another obnoxious:
"Hohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmm!!!"
Hunger churned over in his stomach, and in a fit of lost patience, Raph stormed into the kitchen to make something for himself.
He could punch Mikey later. Food time was now.
Leo, however, still stared at the unsettling scene, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Mikey doesn't meditate."
It was true. Despite he and Sensei trying to get him into the exercise, it was no secret to anyone that meditating probably ranked in the top three of activities he hated doing the most...
Right up there with cleaning his room, the Hashi, sewage sloshing and gauging his eyes out.
But right now Raph was far too hungry to care, angrily rummaging around for his choice of pots and items from the cupboard.
They had ham, algae, worms, a handful of noodles and some spices. It was far from optimal but it was technically food. He grimaced unhappily at the ingredients, but still set it up beneath the can opener and pushed the steel button. But a broken Kraang-ish sound came back in reply.
BlereeKp.
"What?!" Raphael frowned deeper and pushed the button again.
...Blerrrrreep. His eyes narrowed.
Blereep. Blereep. Blereep. Blereep. The noise grated raw on his nerves, coupled with the increasingly annoying sound of Mikey's incessant humming and it quickly burnt his fuse. Raph roared in a fit of rage, tearing the entire can opener its socket and hurled it violently down into the counter.
"MIKEY!!! WILL YOU STOP THAT ALREADY?! You aren't meditatin'!"
Mikey opened his eyes. ".... It's called peaceful protesting!" He glared.
"It's called BEIN' ANNOYING!!"
"Raph stop it," Leo chastised, ready to intercept a further attack when Raph saw Donnie stumble in from the hallway out of the corner of his eye.
"Hey, Brain Nugget. Get in here and help me get this stupid thing workin' before I really put the hurt on Mikey."
But Donnie barely heard anything at all. "What... smells good?" he murmured in a daze, wandering around for that scent teasing his senses.
The other three looked at one another.
"....Uhhhh...My feet?" Mikey grinned.
Donnie sniffed the air carefully. "No, I can smell that..." he muttered, absently continuing on.
Leo blinked in surprise at that. "...Wait, you can smell Mikey's feet from across the lair?"
"Well, he is pretty disgusting," Raph offered. "If I were him, I'd take three showers a day just to try to wash some of the ugly off."
"Heyyyyyy," Mikey wilted a little at the insult and looked to Leo to reprimand him for it, but Leo was instead much more intrigued in Donnie's new acute sense.
"What does it smell like?"
"I... I don't know," he answered honestly. "I can't explain it, b-but it's like..."
His thoughts fell apart before he could finish. The scent was suddenly stronger, filling in every corner of his brain... thick, wicked and intoxicating. Donnie rocked a little in his step trying to shake the tingling from his skull.
And it didn't go unnoticed by his brother, Leo. "...Seriously, are you okay? Maybe you should sit down."
"I'm fine. It's fine," he insisted and pushed away, finally pulling his senses into focus. "...It's probably just whatever Mikey's cooking," he lied.
A set of glances were shared once more by the others.
"...Nobody's cooked anything," Leo said stiffly.
Worry touched in Raphael's eyes as well. Something was definitely wrong.
Could it have something to do with last night?
"Yeah, uh.... Well... I'm about to cook somethin'," he said, turning back towards the cupboard and once again his gaze found the post-rage job he had done on the can opener and sheepishly turned back to Donnie. "...Do ya think you have enough in ya to help me with the can opener? I kinda threw it."
Donnie shuddered a little. There was just a certain element to his voice tonight that seemed to resonate through every nerve ending in his body and make his toes curl. He made his way to the kitchen, eyes low, that scent buzzing in his skull. And when he lifted his eyes he found the heralding green of Raphael's, that sick tight found home once more the depths of his shell...
And at that moment, he just knew...
"...Don?"
"Y-Yeah... Sure. I'll.... Help."
"Cool." Raph reached out and pulled him forward from the wall.
The smell. His voice. The warm, rough sensation his scales against his. Donnie's knees threatened to knock beneath him.
Why?! Why was he hyper attuned to him all of a sudden?! And more than usual?! As if life couldn't get any more weird or difficult!
'No no no no. Okay, this is fine,' he mentally chastised himself. He'd just have to play it cool. So what if he was a little... sensitive? It would pass. He didn't have to make things weird.
Raphael turned the punished can opener over in his hands to inspect it. "I don't think I broke it..."
Donnie gave him a look and took it from him, checking it himself for damage. "You didn't," he assessed, carefully setting it on its perch. "...What did you do, tear it from the wall and throw it?"
"Hey!" he defended, "...Mikey... was bein' really stupid," he finished lamely.
The answer obviously did not amuse his brother. "...Right." He tilted his head a bit, checking among the inner cogs. "...Can you hand me that screwdriver?"
Raph's obliged him the tool on the countertop and watched him, the way his almond eyes swept and scrutinized the tech and cogs, his tongue peeked out in concentration....
How did this all used to bug him? Raph rapped his fingers idly along the bar, his eyes stealing hungrily down his carapace and catching his error, tried to shake it off.
Man, he really needed to stop doing that. He was starting to act like a real pervert.
A creepy, incestuous....
"...What were you going to make anyways?"
"...I dunno, food," he replied. "...... usin' the least amount of ham possible."
Donnie chuckled. "...Sounds good."
"—Yeah," he shrugged, "I have my moments."
The screwdriver paused. "...I don't doubt that."
There was a quiet weight to the phrase and with it Donnie finished the touch, giving the screwdriver one last firm turn. "...Alright. It should be all ready now."
"Cool," Raph stepped in to take over, suddenly intimately into Donatello's space. Before he could even react, he had breathed him in, his presence a hostile takeover to his senses and his hands fell dumb to the can opener, the casual, calloused brush of his hand perversely warm.
"UM! IT'S NOT READY!" He suddenly shrieked. He scooped the can opener flat to his chest, horror struck of his reaction. "I mean...! I-It is... but... I... it... HOoo... I'M... ready... heh, so ready for you... to... take me... IT!! I said 'It'! Take it... Yet I...! Wait... I-I-I-I mean... for you... it isn't... hooo!" He finished in a strangled squeak, his face burning hot.
Raph just stared. And Donnie wished so badly he could swallow his tongue. The silence after was unbearable.
"Umm-mm..." He fumbled around with the can opener in his hand and gripped it tighter to him.
Unbeknownst to them, beneath the encased steel, a pair red eyes struck a peek, a blade out from its place just to slice into his skin.
"Ow!!" He yelped sharply and dropped it, but quick to their ninja reflexes both went to catch it before it hit the floor.
Raphael caught it first, but not before their skulls collided with a force that knocked sent both sprawling to the floor.
"HAGHHHHH!! Urgh." They clutched their heads and Raph deftly let the can opener rolled to the floor and looked up at his brother. "...You okay?"
Donnie tried to rub out the ouch. "...Yeah. I'm fine. You okay?"
"With a thick skull like mine... I'll manage," he joked. But his smile faded when his gaze fell on his hand. "You're bleedin'."
Donnie turned his wrist to inspect the wound. A long red slash ran pretty deep through the latter half of his palm. "Ah jeez," he winced. "...I swear I keep cutting my hand lately."
Raph scooted closer, procuring a roll of gauze from his belt, not hesitating to treat it. "It's probably cuz your head's buried in wires half the time."
Nervous electricity trickled at his touch and Donnie felt warm all over again, blushing like a boy with a crush. He swallowed and licked his lips, drawn and distracted. "...You just keep gauze in your pocket?"
Raph tied it off. "Had it in case I needed to change out the bandage on my foot. I'm beginning to think it's just a regular good idea though."
"...C-Could be." He couldn't help but stare.
Neither of them could. And Donnie's gaze had dropped once more down to his mouth.
"Are you guys okay?" Leo's voice carried from over the counter.
Raph cleared his throat. "Yeah."
"Okay, cool," Leo said absently, his mind half absorbed in the cartoon Mikey had on.
Donnie and Raph got up from the floor and now there was a different sort of look in Donnie's eyes.
"...Help me with the can?" There was somehow a secret in there, just for him. Hidden, modest and coy.
"Yeah," he picked it up and brought it over, peeking over to make sure Leo was distracted as he intimately hung over his shoulder and watched Donnie's hands at work.
He moved with an automatic expertise, but his mind was on him and the plastron nearly pressed to his back, impossibly entangled in the smell, masculine and reptile, lit in his eyes a new coquettish itch.
If asked now, he would not lie. He wanted Raphael alone.
But they weren't. Mikey's cartoons hummed loftily in the background. And Leonardo sat dangerously closer, while Raph's breath fluttered hot over his shoulder, finger discreetly teased the edge of his shell, a brush at his jaw...
Donnie paused in motion. He shuddered and whispered small his truth. "...You smell good."
"...Not as good as you."
Oh, this was dangerous. And it shook him beyond sense. He could feel Raphael's eyes honed and intense, drawing a low curious temptation that had him drowned—
And then something hit the turnstiles. A high distressed voice cut the air, bringing the only true visitor they kept at such an hour, her blue eyes now wide and scared.
"GUYS!!!"
And Donatello's attention was stripped away in a snap.
"...April."