FicWad

Title: Past to Present
Author: Crabapple Red
Beta: Kelriia Frettlar
Pairing: Leo/Don, Raph/Don, Mikey/Don
Warnings: It's gay turtle incest. NC-17, really freakin' long. Gangbang.
Disclaimer: Don't own. No money being made.
Author's note: Takes place during the episode SAINW. I initially wanted to make this a short little Leo/Don, and then it ate my brain.

*

The click of keys, the faint scrape of tools, the occasional creak of a computer chair. Above it all, the soft hum of electronics. Sounds that had once been familiar, but had been missing from Leonardo's life for more than thirty years.

Donatello was working in his lab.

The knowledge made Leo's guts twist and clench. How many times had he wished for this? How many nights had he spent staring into that empty room, haunted by Donnie's absence and the maybes and what ifs of his disappearance?

And now Don was back, and Leo couldn't quite believe it.

The sounds tugged at him, a chain of old memories that wrapped around Leo's heart and dragged him step by step to his familiar post in the doorway. He was blind now, his sight taken shortly after Splinter had died, but he could still picture that empty room. Long hours of wistful vigil had burned the sight into his very soul, and he found himself struggling to accept the reality his ears kept trying to make him believe.

Don, Donnie, Donatello. Their echo from the past. Their ghost. Their second chance.

Soft creak of the chair again. "Leo? Is something wrong?" Don's voice was low and concerned. It sent a shiver of pain through Leonardo's core. Could he trust this? Was it real?

"Don-" He paused and cleared his throat. "Donnie? You . . . working on something?"

"Just double checking Baxter's work on the exo-suite. I know you guys trust him and all, but. . ."

"He doesn't exactly have the best of track records," Leo finished for him. He stepped forward carefully, mindful of remembered clutter, the hem of his long coat swishing about his ankles. He hesitated and put his hand out. Don should be . . .

"A little more to your left." Leo reached farther. His hand came down on Don's shoulder.

Solid. Slightly warm, in that weird way their not-quite cold-blooded bodies were. Don really was sitting in that chair. Leo hadn't gone crazy. It was all he could do not to sob with relief. Something must have shown on his face, though, because Donatello's arms came up and around, and Leo found himself pulled down into a tight embrace.

"Don," he breathed. "Donatello." His brother's name, over and over. He shifted in Don's arms, hands coming up to stroke his brother's face.

Smooth skin banded by the rough cloth of his mask. Leonardo traced the curve of Donnie's jaw, his beak, his brow. He mapped his brother's face with slow, careful touches.

Donatello's face.

He let his hands drift lower, over shoulders and along arms. His right hand read the brail of Donnie's shell as his left trailed down Don's plastron to rub one thigh in long strokes.

Donatello's body.

"Mmm. Uh, Leo?"

Leo pressed closer, moving between Don's legs, nuzzling into the crook of Don's neck. The slow beat of Donnie's pulse welcomed him. The musk of Donnie's scent soothed him. The heavy weight of Leo's coat draped over them both, a leather blanket in Leonardo's endless night.

"Leo?"

Not enough. Leo wanted -needed- more. More, so he could finally smother out the doubt. More, so he could banish the pain of over three decades of Don's absence. He wanted to drown in Donatello, to fill his senses with his brother until he died of it. And though he could never have his sight back, he still had smell. Touch. Taste.

His tongue snaked out and licked at Donnie's pulse point.

"L-Leo?"

Sound. Donnie's voice, washing over him. Saying his name. Leo moaned softly and licked again.

"Leoh~!"

Leo's hand shifted on Donnie's thigh, going inwards and up, darting between his legs to touch gently at what his brother kept tucked away.

Donatello's cock.

"Leonardo!" And it was sweet, so sweet, to hear his name gasped out like that. To feel Don's breath feathering against his neck, and Don's arms tighten around him. "I . . . what. . ."

"Easy, Donnie. I've got you." He barely registered saying the words, the old comfort, mind riveted on the hot weight in his hand.

"I kinda noticed! I- Leo, you-"

Leo kissed him.

It was awkward and messy. Aiming was a bitch without sight. But Leo managed, beak sealing over Don's and silencing his protests. He pushed his tongue in. Don's mouth was wet. This seemed terribly important for some reason.

"Coffee was always your worst habit," Leo said when he broke the kiss, licking the taste of his brother from his lips. He stroked Don's cock. "I don't know how you can drink that stuff black."

"Lots of- mmph! -lots of practice," Donnie managed. His fingers bunched in Leo's coat.

"The mug isn't anywhere I can knock it over, is it?"

Don's cock swelled, filling out into a proper erection and dropping down out of Don's shell, hot and hard in Leo's grasp.

"No." Don's voice was barely a whisper.

"Good."

He kissed Don again. Stroked his brother's dick with one hand, and brought the other down to trace light circles around the base of Donnie's tail, around and around until he found- yes. There it was.

He pushed his finger in.

"Oh, shell, Leo." Donatello squirmed. His plastron scrapped against Leo's, and Leonardo sighed in contentment.

"You got anything we can use as lube, Don?"

"Lube? You . . . you're really going to-?"

"Yes." He pushed his finger in further, insistent. Don was quiet. One heart beat. Two. Three. Four. The computers around them hummed. Leo curled his finger, stroking Donnie from the inside.

". . . third drawer down on your right. Petroleum jelly. In a big, square jar. I- Leo?"

"Yes?"

"You- how do you want to- why do you want to-"

Another kiss, and a twist of his finger, until he was pressing down on just the right spot. Don gasped, breaking the kiss with a shudder. Leo pulled away and fumbled for the drawer.

"On the table," he said. The chair creaked. Don's shell scrapped against the tabletop. Leo found the jar.

The lid came off easy, and soon he was between Don's legs again, pushing him to lie back on the low table. He bent over him and breathed deep, slicked finger moving in and out of Don's ass. Donatello's arms and legs came up to wrap around him, hands fisting in Leo's coat once more. Leonardo churred, let his own erection free, lubed himself up. Finally, he pushed into Don.

"Leonardo!"

Donatello. Warm, slick and tight. All around Leo. Sound, scent, and body. In some perverse way, it was like coming home.

"Real," Leo murmured, believing it for the first time. He nuzzled Donnie's jaw. "This is real."

"It had better be," Don answered, voice fragile and hushed, barely controlled. "I'd . . . hate to think what it would mean for the state of my subconscious if this was a dream."

Definitely Donatello.

Leo chuckled breathlessly, and started a slow, easy rhythm. In and out, a gentle rocking in the dark. It warmed Leo from without and within, a sluggish fire that built in his cock and twined up his spine like river of lava. It filled him with a white hot heat that came from his very core, devouring him inch by inch, until it's currents reached his brain and seared away thought and reason, until there was nothing but Don in the black void of Leo's world, nothing but the snug grip of Don's body on Leo's and Don's soft voice slurring swear words and Leonardo's name in a senseless jumble of syllables.

Fucking Don was like drowning in a soul-devouring ocean, a nirvana of oblivion, and Leonardo sank into it with a sob of pure relief.

For a brief moment in time, Leonardo lived perfection.

And then a hand fell on his shoulder.

"Well ain't this just a kick in the shell."

Raphael.

His brother's voice was a harpoon lancing through Leonardo, impaling him, jerking him bodily back to reality. He felt Donatello stiffen and shudder, breaking out of his own trance.

"Raphie?" Don said tentatively, still dazed. His voice was barely audible over the computers' drone.

"First you let our dad get killed, now you're fuckin' our brother? What the shell, Leo?"

The words hurt, brought old wounds screaming back to life. Leonardo felt his dick soften, his heart harden. Was he never to be allowed any kind of peace? He felt the snarl painting itself across his face, started pulling himself away from Don. "Raphael . . ."

Don's arms tightened around Leo, keeping him close. "Raph," Don tried again. "Raph, don't-"

"Twisted son of a bitch. Ain't there anything sacred to you? Or are you too special to bother respectin' rules that ain't yours?"

It was only Don's grip that kept Leo for going for his swords.

"Raphael, please," Donnie begged.

"You make me sick, Leo. Fearless Leader, always so dead set on your way, on what you want. You never notice you're wrecking our fuckin' famil-mmph!"

Leonardo caught Don by pure reflex when he felt him lunge upwards. Numbly, he held Don steady as he kissed Raphael quiet. The wet sound of it seemed almost too loud in the hush of the lab. Their panting breaths as they broke apart seemed to positively echo.

"Donnie?" And it had been so long, so very long since Leo had heard Raphael's voice like that, all quiet and scared and twistedly hopeful. Wishing for things he knew were forbidden, impossible.

"Raph. It's okay."

"But-"

"Raph. It's okay. Leo's not hurting me. He . . . he's just . . ." Don's voice faltered and trailed off into hesitant silence.

"He's just what, Don?" Raphael's voice was quiet, too patient. "Fuckin' you? Cuz that's what it looks like to me. He's got his cock up your ass, Don!"

"Well, ah, yeah. But, Raphie-"

"He's- he- he's always doin' shit like this!" There was the soft sound of scattering paper and the crash of something –Donnie's mug of coffee, Leo guessed- Raphael having undoubtedly lost control and begun lashing out and breaking things. "He makes dumb choices without askin' the rest of us and- "

"Oh, I'm sorry, Raphael," Leo finally broke in, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Did you want to fuck Donatello first?"

"Wha-? No!"

"You're sure?" Leo purred, and slid himself out, and then in.

Twisted luck and his own skill combined. Don went limp and trembling in Leonardo's arms, a low moan torn from his throat.

"ohfuck," Raph said.

"Is he hot like this, Raph?" Leo asked. "He feels hot. And tight, and slick." In and out. And if he angled just so he could-

Don moaned again and shuddered, wiggled up closer to Leo and scrabbled frantically at his coat.

"Fuck, Leo," Raph groaned. "Do that to him again."

Leo chuckled and moved once more. Don obligingly whimpered. Leo felt the shift as Raph pulled back the folds of Leo's coat.

Raphael always did like to watch Leonardo in motion.

"He feels real, Raph," Leo continued, his voice beginning to waver and sensation overtook him again. "Solid. Not a dream, not some half-remembered fantasy. Real." In and out. He reached out into the darkness, and found Raphael's hand. Pulled it close, and laid it on Don's trembling thigh. "Touch him, feel him. Do you remember, Raph, that day we realized he wasn't coming back? How much it hurt?"

"Yeah." Raph's voice was raw with aching pain and lust.

Donnie sobbed. "I'm – I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'd never- I don't know why-"

Leo quieted him with another messy kiss and a thrust that made them both shake. It took him a moment to find his voice again afterwards, and when he finally spoke again it was rough and deep.

"He's back now, Raph. He's back, and he's here, all warm and willing and he's going to stay, aren't you, Donnie?"

". . .'d never abandon you. . ."

"That's right. You'll stay right here with me," a thrust, "and Raphael," another, "and Michelangelo," a third, and Don was panting now, and Leo was surprised his coat hadn't ripped in two yet from the strength of Don's grip, "and we'll rebuild this family if it kills us."

"Yes," growled Raphael, and he grabbed Leo's hand and pulled it down, wrapping it around Don's erection and pumping.

Don was beyond coherence at that, nothing but wordless moans and deep, throaty churrs spilling out of him as Leo fucked him and Raph and Leo jerked him off. The sounds were muffled for a moment -Raph was kissing Don, Leo guessed- and then they were back, and Raphael was kissing Leo.

Oh, yes. Leo was half convinced Raph was pouring his bloody soul into that kiss, burning hot and snarling angry, and that terrible, desperate need that had always been there, would always be there. Leo's dark mirror, his shadow, together with him again as they reclaimed what they had thought lost forever.

It was so different from before, where he'd dissolved into his passion. Now he felt focused, anchored, pushed to new heights by the challenge of Raphael's presence, given purpose by his frantic need to make sure Donatello stayed. Every thrust felt like he was hammering Don into the here and now, every moan and sob from Don's throat was an inarticulate affirmation.

Raph broke the kiss. "Fuck 'em harder, Fearless Leader," he whispered.

"B-brace him for me?"

"You got it."

The blaze of Raphael's presence shifted to the side, Leo's hand was relinquished to milk Don's erection alone, and Don was suddenly rock steady down on the table.

"Shell," Don managed, hands pulling frantically at Leo's coat and legs clenching vise-like around Leo's sides when he found himself unable to squirm closer. Leo pushed in, a full body thrust down into Don's pinned body. "I- Leo- wait-"

"Relax, Donnie," Raphael coaxed. "Leo'll take care of ya."

"But, I- I'm about to-"

"Then do it," Leo groaned, and surged down into Don again, thumb trailing up the underside of Don's cock.

Donatello sobbed and shuddered, climaxing, semen dripping down onto Leo's hand.

"Perfect," Raph rumbled.

Leo couldn't have agreed more. Don's body clenched around him even tighter, and Leo could feel the vibrations of Don's cries echoing through his body.

So close. He thrust again and again, frantic, reaching for the peek, until the tension building in him could no longer be held back. He pushed in one last time, as hard as he could, as deep as he could, wringing another tired cry from Don, and came.

Sweet, hot pleasure, Raph's low voice muttering rough approval in the dark, Don's hands making slow, hesitant passes along the arc of Leo's shell. Leo nuzzled Donnie for one last kiss.

It tasted of victory.

Slowly, he pulled away.

Someone –Raph, probably, Don wasn't likely in any shape to do more than lie on the table- pressed a rag into Leo's hand. "Better clean yourself up. Donnie got you kinda messy."

"Thanks." He wiped himself down and tucked himself away.

"Hey. Hey, Donnie?"

"Mmmph?"

"You up for another go? Cuz shell if that wasn't hottest thing I've ever seen, an'-"

"If Raphie gets the next ride, can I go third?"

Michelangelo's voice was so unexpected it made Leo choke on his own spit.

"Is everyone," Don slurred, "gonna walk in on this?"

"Naw. I locked the door behind me." Mikey reassured him.

"Mikey-"

"Relax, Raph. I've been here for a while. I'm not gonna spoil the fun. Leo sold me on the idea the minute he started making Donnie moan. Nice job by the way, Leo. Didn't think anything could make the Brainiac sound like that."

It was impossible for Leo to hold back the proud little smirk. "Thanks."

The soft pad of Mikey's footsteps drew closer, the sound most likely a courtesy for Leo's sake; by now, even Mikey had learned the brutal lesson of silence. He brushed past Leo to stop close to Don.

"So how 'bout it, Donnie? You wanna let Raph and me play, too?" And Leo imagined he could see him, battered and scared, leaning over Don, one good hand stroking Don's plastron . . .

As for Raphael, he watched Mikey; saw the half-challenge, half-beg in his posture, saw him clench and unclench his hand before reaching out to tilt Don's face towards him.

Shell, it was so weird seeing them face to face like that. Mikey'd always been the unofficial 'baby', all bright sunshine and optimism, and Donnie'd had that touch of 'professor' about him as he huddled in the twilight of his lab. But now, in the weird half-light this room . . . Donnie looked so young. A little piece of shiny tin in this world of shit and rust, the faint light of the computer screens highlighting the smooth, unmarred expanse of his skin. And Mikey . . . Mikey was battered and half-broken, bits missing and his youth faded, shadows sticking to him almost as bad as Leo. It made Raph's guts clench with vertigo. What kind of sick bitch was Fate to twist his family around like this?

But she'd brought Donnie back. And for that alone, Raph would love her forever.

"Don?" he prompted, nudging him. "Yes or no?"

". . . uh, well. Yes?"

Raph and Mikey shared a grin.

Almost like old times. Raph had known they needed Don to pull them all back together. He'd thought it was because they needed Don's level head, though, not Don's ass.

He couldn't quite hold back a snicker at the thought.

"Yo, Leo. Mind bracin' Donnie for me?" he asked, covering his laughter as he stripped off his fingerless gloves and stuffed them in his jacket pockets.

"Sure."

"I'll take the right side," Mikey claimed as he slipped into place, his hand coming down to grip Don firmly on the shell, just above his shoulder. Leo settled into position on the left in a swirl of coat and shadow, his blind mirroring of Mikey unnerving.

Raphael took his own place, stepping into the space between Don's legs and leaning down to nuzzle his brother, hands clamping onto Don's thighs and spreading them even further apart. "I am gonna give you such a good dickin'," he purred in Don's ear.

Don shivered, and reached up to grab at Raph's jacket. "Right. Okay."

Raph chuckled. "Don't worry. You'll like it." He palmed Don's cock and pumped it a few times, grip slicked by the remains of Don's earlier release.

"Mmmm." Don's eyes narrowed to slits of pleasure, his dick starting to harden again in Raphael's hand.

"That's right," said Raph. "You gave it up for Leo, so it's only fair you give it up for me, too, right?"

"I wouldn't dream of favoring one of you over the other," Don agreed dryly. He shifted a bit, trying to twitch upwards, but Leo and Mikey's grip on him kept him firmly in place.

"Oh, gettin' impatient are we?" Raph claimed a bruising kiss. "Good," he husked when he broke away, bring his hand up from Don's dick to lick at the come on it. He smirked in satisfaction as Don sucked in a sharp little gasp.

Already half hard, he let his cock drop from his shell and stroked it, palm wet with his own spit now instead of Don's come. His other hand flexed on Don's thigh. He could feel Don tensing, feel him watching. Mikey shifted impatiently on the right. Leo trailed his hand along Don's side on the left. Raph, now hard, lined himself up, and pushed in.

No words, was the first thing that floated through Raphael's head. There ain't no words for this.

Don seemed to agree, panting mutely as Raph gave his first tentative thrust. Not virgin-tight, but damned close to it. And considering the time lapse, Don was, what? Fifteen, sixteen at the most? So-

"Was Leo your first, Donnie?" Raph asked, thrusting again. Beside him, Leo straightened a bit, hand pausing on in mid stroke. "Did he pop your cherry?"

"I'm . . . a male turtle, Raph," Don managed between Raph's thrusts. "I never had a 'cherry' to pop."

"That's not a no," Mikey said, lips twitching up into a grin.

"Donnie?" Leo asked.

Don ducked his head and licked his lips. " . . . yes, ok? Yes, you took my virginity."

"Figures. Ya always gotta be first, huh, Leo?"

"I'm leader. It's only right." Raph let that pass, but only because Leo had such a goofy look on his face when he said it, half dazed and half proud. Raph had to smother another laugh. So Leo hadn't thought it through, huh? Now there was a surprise. And now he'd get all moony over being Don's first.

'Course, Raph couldn't let it go completely. Leo might have been Don's first, but Raph was gonna make sure that he left the longest lasting impression.

He slipped his hands down Don's thighs and under his knees, hoisting Don's legs up nice and high for a better angle. Don gasped in surprise at the sudden shift in position, and then gasped again as Raph surged forward in a hard, almost brutal thrust.

"Raphael!"

Raph didn't bother hiding his laughter that time, and his low, satisfied chuckles made a rumbling counterpoint to Don's softer pants and groans. He used full body thrusts like Leo had earlier, but he'd slung Don's leg's over his shoulders and braced himself on the table, and the angle let him go deeper.

He went slower, too, loving the way he made Don gasp and strain against Leo and Mikey's grip, the way each thrust down and in practically folded Don in half. Damned if Raph wasn't gonna take his sweet time to savor it. He'd thought Leo fucking Don was the hottest thing he'd ever seen, but the sight of his own cock disappearing into Don's ass blew that out of the water.

And speaking of Leo, he was running his free hand up along one of Don's thighs as they flexed and bunched, trying to pull Raph in further, harder.

He can't watch like Mikey can, Raph thought. Gotta let his hands do the watching for him, I guess . . . Well. Don's legs are pretty hot, but they ain't the important thing to watch right now, are they?

Raph reached up and grabbed Leo's hand, pulling it down, coaxing Leo's thumb and first finger into a snug little ring around Raph's dick, right up against Don's ass. "Much better," purred Raph. "We wouldn't want you to miss out on anythin' important, now would we, Leo?"

"Raph-" And the expression on Leo's face shifted, wonder and lust mauling each other for dominance was just perfect.

"Ok, now I'm jealous," Mikey muttered, the stump of his left arm twitching uselessly.

Donnie solved that problem, though, letting go of Raph's jacket with one hand to reach up and grab Mikey's bandolier, using it to yank him down for a kiss.

Raph smirked and raked his nails up the outside of Don's thighs, leaving a trail of burning welts that made Don moan and spill pleading nonsense into Mikey's mouth.

"Getting kinda brutal there, Raphie," Mikey said, his voice starting to sound a bit breathless.

"Donnie likes it," Raph countered, and he turned his head and bit Don's leg, right above the kneepad strap.

Donatello yowled.

Oh, shell yes! Raph thought, and thrust himself down into the double ring of Leo's fingers and Don's ass. Keep screamin', Donnie. He shifted the grip of his bite as he kept thrusting, letting his tongue snake out occasionally to lick the back of Don's knee. Beneath him, Don's body thrashed and bucked, trying desperately to get free of Leo and Mikey's grip, but they held him pinned. It made Don's body tighten and shudder around Raphael's cock. Leo bent down to press soothing kisses to Don's shoulder and mutter quiet encouragements in his ear. Don still had a grip on Mikey, keeping him close as Don sobbed and keened, and Mikey watched him with a dazed kind of fascination.

The table shook as Raph pounded into Don, still doing his damndest to keep it slow, to draw it out, but fuck if he could keep it up forever. He felt control slipping through his fingers, and he fumbled for Don's cock.

Shell if Raph was gonna lose it first.

Don's cock was hard and leaking. Raph pet it, stroked it, pumped it in time to his ragged thrusts. Don's come from earlier mingled with the new, and Raph's hand slid comfortably along Don's shaft. "C'mon, Donnie," Raph growled. "Give!"

Don gave, orgasming again with a shudder and a low moan, his come spattering Raph's hand and both their plastrons, twisting slowly in his brothers' grip.

"Yes," Raphael hissed in triumph, and let himself lose it, pushing into Don the final few times before coming himself. Satisfaction echoed in his very bones as he felt his come spurt into Don and mingle with what Leo'd left, a primal kind of joy at having undeniably marked what was his.

Don could disappear to the ends of the earth now, and Raph would still be all over him.

He stayed as deep as he could in Don until the last of the shudders faded, watching with blurred sight as Don slowly came down from his own high, and then he let Don's legs slide from his shoulders and stepped back. He grabbed the rag from the chair where Leo'd tossed it and cleaned himself before he tucked his cock back into his shell, glancing at Don.

Don lay on the table, legs dangling over the edge, as boneless as a turtle ever got. He'd twitch every now and again as Leo stroked the underside of his tail, a bit of come oozing out of his ass. Mikey stared down at him, good hand stroking Don's cheek.

Shell, Donnie was hot.

Mikey traced a line up the underside Don's cock as it lay limp on his plastron, and Don sobbed out a moan.

"Mikey. Mikey, wait-"

"You gonna change your mind, Donnie?" Mikey glanced up at him, a bitter half smile twitching on his lips. "Too tired? Or is it the missing pieces that's the problem?"

Don glared at him muzzily. "You're missing your arm, not your penis, so I hardly see how it could be an issue," he said, voice hoarse from screaming. "I just- gimme a minute, will you? I'm sixteen, not invincible!"

Tension he hadn't even been aware of flowed out of Mikey. It . . . He . . . he hated himself for having doubted Don. Shell, Leo and Raph were just as beat up as he was in their own way, and Don had spread his legs for them. But, the arm- Losing his arm had meant so much. Still meant so much. A graphic symbol of everything that had been ripped away from him. Mikey lost a lot in Don's absence, and it hadn't all been physical.

And Don had noticed. How could he not? The Michelangelo of the now was far different than the joking wise guy he'd been in the past. The Michelangelo of the now was quieter, grimmer. Bitter around the edges. Tarnished.

Don still wanted him, though. Don still loved him, even, in that calm, accepting way Don had. Mikey could have sprouted tentacles and a second head, and Don would still love him, still worry about him. The realization hurt in a way, old wounds being re-opened and cleaned to let the sickness out. Mikey bent down and kissed Don, stroking his tongue with his own, a slow savoring of his brother.

"Tomorrow," Donnie whispered as they broke apart, stroking down the remains of Mikey's left arm. "Tomorrow I'll see if I can manage a cybernetic replacement for you. It's ridiculous that Stockman never bothered giving you one. There's gotta be enough- mmph!"

Fucking shell, Donnie, Mikey thought as he desperately kissed him again. How is it you always find a way to solve every problem? How . . . you . . . no wonder we fell apart without you.

He felt passion rise, his hand sliding down Don's plastron with new-found urgency to tug at Don's cock. Beside him, Leo straightened and resumed his position, bracing Don on the table. Raph took Mikey's place on Don's right. Don spread his legs, churring almost unwillingly as his dick slowly hardened for the third time.

"Mikey," Don moaned against Michelangelo's mouth, too tired at that point to do anything beyond stroke Mikey's shoulders and nuzzle Mikey's chin. Mikey planted soft kisses on Don's temple. He trailed his hand down and rubbed a thumb in the semen leaking from Don's ass.

"Talk about sloppy seconds," he muttered, licking Donnie's cheek. "Though I guess in this case, that'd be sloppy thirds." His own dick was out and ready, and he pushed in nice and easy. Don's body welcomed him, warm, wet, and snug.

Don sighed and brought his legs up, heels resting on the edge of the table. Don was always so accommodating, so willing to give whatever his brothers needed. Even now, half-dead from sex and pinned to a table in his own lab, he was opening up for Mikey.

Mikey had missed that so much. That wordless support he'd taken for granted. When Don had disappeared it was like he'd taken the floor with him; suddenly, there'd been nothing to stand on.

"Never again, Don. Don't ever leave again," he whispered, pushing into Don's body. He claimed more kisses from Don, stopping his words. Mikey didn't need Don's reassurances, he just needed Don. Quiet and pliant beneath him, open for the taking as Mikey rocked into him again and again.

Leo and Raph let their free hands wander, over Don's plastron, along his sides, up and down the folded lengths of his legs. Mikey let his own hand drift over Don's butt, fingered his tail. Don seemed to like that, his body shivering and clenching around Mikey's cock, his mouth breaking from Mikey's to pant lightly. Michelangelo didn't let that last, though, reclaiming Don's lips in an endless series of kisses. Mikey'd gone too long without any kind of Don to put up with his absence again, even if it was only from a lip lock.

He got more aggressive, more greedy, biting at Don's lips. He stroked Don's leg, thumbed the bruise Raph and left and smiled when Donnie winced.

"Raphie-boy got you good, huh?"

"Uh-huh," mumbled Don. Raphael chuckled.

"He left his marks all over you. And Leo popped your cherry." Leo shifted at that, and tightened his grip on Don's shoulder. Still kinda shy and proud over it, Mikey guess.

"Didn't even have a-"

"So," Mikey continued, ignoring Don's tired protests, "What am I gonna do to you so you remember our first time, huh?"

That shut Don up, and he eyed Mikey wearily.

Michelangelo traced the line of Don's mouth. "I like it when you make noise, Donnie. Used to be you were always there in the background with something to say. Explanation, observation." He pushed his finger into Don's mouth and touched his tongue, stroked it. "And then one day you didn't say anything, because you were gone." He pulled his finger out and traced wet doodles across Don's throat.

"Mikey," Don whispered, reaching up and touching Mikey's face hesitantly. Mikey smiled a bit as he felt the vibrations of Don's voice, and began to rock in and out once more.

"You've got a nice voice, Donnie. I want to hear it the whole time I'm fucking you. Explaining, describing, begging, I don't care. I just want words coming out of your mouth, got it? Full, coherent sentences. The minute you stop making sense or making noise, I stop moving, got it?"

"I-, Mikey-"

"Full sentences, Donnie."

"Yes," moaned Don. "I understand."

Mikey beamed at him. "Leo, Raph. Could you grab his hands?"

Raph grinned. "You got it, bro."

Don didn't like that much, staring piteously up at Mikey as his hands were pulled away, wrists locked in the iron grip of his brothers' fingers. Mikey just smiled down at him.

"No touching, Donnie. The only thing you're allowed to do now is talk. Better get started," he suggested. "You're not allowed to come until I do, and this," he pumped Don's erection lightly, "is gonna get uncomfortable pretty quick."

"I don't- I don't know what to say, I-"

"Donnie." Mikey leaned in close, squeezing almost too tight around Don's cock, his mouth a hair's breath from Don's ear. "Talk," he said. Low, and rough, and intimate.

"Nng- kinematics!" Don gasped. Swallowed. Started again. "Ki-kinematics. The study of motion without considering the masses involved or the forces that cause the motion. It studies how an object. . . how an object's . . ."

"Keep talking, Donnie."

Don sobbed and nodded, taking up his explanations again. Mikey tuned him out at the third word. He didn't care what Don had to say, just that he said it. Instead, he focused on fucking his brother. Touching him again, for the first time in so long. What a trip, what an overload, to stick his dick into Don and ride him, Don's voice, rough from screaming, washing over him in an endless liturgy of facts.

". . . a measurement of vel –ah! Mikey, please, harder- velocity between two objects moving in different . . ."

The soft, wet sounds of their fucking, the low creak of the table under Don. The hum of the computers droning on behind it all. Shell, yes! Mikey tilted Don's head back, kept his hand pressed to Don's throat a moment to feel that voice, then let his touch slide down to stroke at Don's plastron, his sides. The crease where thigh met hip. The curl of Don's toes on the edge of the table and the arch of his foot.

The sick light of the computer screen gilded Don's profile with silver and sharp shadows. So familiar. It took Mikey back through the years, to when he'd been the youngest, the sheltered kid brother, the one who'd always been given that touch of extra TLC from his bros.

". . . motion c- can be described with four sim –uh!- simple algebraic equatio~ns . . ."

Mikey rubbed his stump absently against Don's left leg. Don would give him back his arm. Would give him back his past. Would give him everything.

Was giving him everything now.

He loved Donnie for that. Pressed a kiss to Don's shoulder and stroked up his right arm, tracing muscle and tendons, feeling the sweat as it started to bead along Don's skin.

Fucked Don harder.

". . . object will. . . will then . . . Mikey, Mikey, you feel so good . . . I- what. . .

"An object will then . . ." prompted Leo, running a thumb over the inside of Don's wrist. Barely moving, his head cocked. He was listening as much as Mikey. Not surprising. Mikey was pretty sure they'd all missed Don's words.

" . . . will then follow a parabolic trajectory a- an- aah~" Don dribbled off into senseless panting, rocking himself mindlessly up toward Mikey. And Mikey had to bite his tongue to the taste of blood to stop and hold still, as Don twisted and churred beneath him, pushing against the table with his legs and trying frantically to wrench free from Raph and Leo's grip.

"Please! Please," begged Don, the only thing he seemed to be able to manage, eyes glazed and cock leaking all over himself.

Mikey moaned and gripped Don's leg against the feeling of Don tightening around him in his desperation. There'd be three more bruises now, dark green splotches on Don's right calf. Mikey moaned again at the thought.

"C'mon, Brainiac, get it together" muttered Raph. Mikey saw his arm flex, his fingers tighten, as Raph squeezed Don's wrist even tighter. It made Donnie pant and sob and wince. Made him lock his gaze onto Raph's fingers and bite his lip, and start talking again.

"Will . . . will then . . follow a . . . a parabolic trajectory, and its horizontal motion can . . . can be modelled . . . independently. . ."

Voice shaky and ragged, barely more than a whisper. Weird theories and logic that never seemed to make sense. Don was talking, and Mikey couldn't understand a damned word he was saying.

It was perfect. Mikey could have cried from it.

He let himself go, confident that Leo and Raph would keep Don talking. Let himself concentrate on taking back what he'd lost, on connecting with what had gotten so unreachable. He pulled comfort from Don's body; fucked him harder, deeper, reaching further into him with each thrust to soaked up everything he could.

Bending low, he pressed himself as close to Don as possible, ear to Don's chest to hear the soft drone of his voice that much better. It made fucking Donnie awkward. Mikey didn't care. Worked that much harder, as his good arm slung around Don's one side, his stump reaching out on the other in a rough hug, as beneath and around him Donnie slowly shifted the little he could, as Don's words stumbled onwards. Don sounded drunk, exhausted, the same as he'd sounded so many nights so long ago, after a gruelling marathon project . . .

". . . in space a- and . . . and . . . Mikey!" Don's voice broke.

So did Mikey.

Climaxing with a low cry, hugging Don tight, slowly pushing in that final time, wanting to get closer, to go farther. His come mixed with Leo's, with Raph's. Mikey could feel it seeping out from Don, and shell, that was good. He lay still on top of Don, savoring the moment.

Except Don was still squirming, still managing half-audible noises of pain and pleading.

"Mikey. Mikey, you're crushin' his dick."

Oh. Right.

He heaved himself up awkwardly. Don's cock was still hard, and Mikey stroked it gently. Don mouthed out words, sounds, pleas he was too spent to make. Mikey smiled down at him.

"This is the only thing left, Donnie. You can do it, right? Come, one last time."

Don shook. Exhausted, used, voice broken and eyes glazed. Barely present, even as Mikey pumped him cock and dragged him forcibly closer to the edge of climax.

"C'mon, Donnie," Mikey coaxed. "One last time. Just for me."

Don's expression shifted, a strange tenderness rising up through his exhaustion. 'For you,' he mouthed, and climaxed a third time. His come spilled over Mikey's hand, and he went utterly limp on the table.

Leo gently let Don's wrist go and stroked a hand along Don's face and neck, feeling his pulse and breathing. "Passed out."

"Totally," Raph agreed. He nudged Don gently, smiling a bit at the way his brother lolled beneath his touch.

Awkward silence settled over them. What did one say after gang banging one's brother? Splinter hadn't exactly included it in their ninja etiquette training.

Suddenly shy, Mikey pulled out and away, grabbing the rag and wiping himself off. He glanced at the come leaking from Don's ass and spattered across his plastron. "Guess we should clean him up, huh?"

"Yeah," Raph said, voice a bit wistful.

Leo smiled. "Don't worry, Raph. You can get him dirty again tomorrow."

"If he's not too sore to let you," Mikey sniggered. "I think his butt's gonna need some recovery time."

They all laughed at that, tension draining away. Unfair to Don, maybe, to laugh at him like this, but . . .

"He's got a mouth." Raph said.

"Yes," Leo agreed, and they all grinned, greedy, eager. Together.

And, ok, so maybe reforging family bonds by screwing your long lost brother was a little unorthodox and a lot unhealthy, but it worked. And in the ugly, twisted world that Shredder had left them, Michelangelo would go along with anything that helped.

They cleaned up Don and hauled him off to bed.

- end