Work Text:
The smell of the apartment turned Raph’s stomach before he even opened the door.
It was nauseatingly familiar. It smelled like burning, overcooked grease, damp and something sour, and the smell never went away, even when Raph left the windows open.
He stood in the apartment hallway, hand on the knob, wringing every last possible second before going home.
Raph rolled his shoulders, took a breath. Okay.
He stepped inside. The TV was off, and he dared hope that he was already asleep (asleep, passed out drunk, same difference)
“‘Bout damn time.”
Fuck.
Raph didn’t answer. He’d learned that silence kept things simpler and safer, especially since he had a tendency to mouth off. It felt better in the immediate, but Hob had no patience for sass, and it got him bruises (or worse) later. Luckily, hoodies were good for hiding what needed to be hidden.
Hoodies were also good for hiding the person that stared back every time Raph looked in a mirror. Hob liked to remind him that it didn’t matter what he called himself, it wouldn’t change what was “real”, wouldn’t change the person staring back at him in his reflection.
“The hell were you?” Hob growled.
“Working.”
Wrong answer. Raph felt it the second the word left his mouth. The air shifted.
Hob’s feet stomped on the floor. Raph spared a thought for the downstairs neighbours. Of course, none of the noises coming from the apartment had ever merited a check-in from them, so fuck ‘em.
“Working, huh.”
Raph’s heart slammed against his ribs. He kept his eyes fixed on a crack in the mouldy wall. If he looked defiant, that was bad. If he looked scared, that was somehow worse.
“My shift ran late,” Raph muttered. “I came straight back after.”
“Shift ran late,” Hob snorted. “You’re lucky I let you work. Hell, you’re lucky I let you stay here.”
“Yeah.”
Again, somehow, the wrong answer. Hob stopped closer, reeking of that permanent sour smell. “‘Yeah’? That’s it? How about ‘thank you’? You forget who took you in? Who fed you? Who put a roof over your head when no one else wanted a little sicko like you?”
Raph swallowed. “I didn’t forget.”
“Then act like it. Kitchen’s a mess. Go take care of it. Bitches like you belong in the kitchen.”
“I’m not a–!”
A hand caught his jaw, forcing his face upward. Raph’s muscles locked automatically, bracing, fighting every instinct to squirm or try and hit back. Hob’s other hand caught his bicep, hard enough to make the muscle cramp. Raph could feel the bruise already blossoming. At least it wasn’t his wrists this time.
“You’ll always be what I say you are,” Hob muttered, low and threatening. “Don’t forget that.”
“...I won’t.”
Hob released him with a shove. Raph staggered half a step before slamming into the wall, catching himself before he fell.
Hob watched him for another long second, maybe waiting for more back talk, or any excuse to put his hands on Raph again. When he didn’t find an opening, he went to the couch, flopping down and turning on the TV.
“Kitchen,” Hob reminded him. “Now.”
The sink was full. Grease crusted along the stovetop. A plate was smashed in the trash can, and Raph was glad he hadn’t been home for whatever happened there. Broken dishes were always his fault, somehow.
Raph rolled up his sleeves. His hands were already dry and cracked from his job (washing dishes in the back of a dive bar will do that, assholes never even offered him gloves) But he got to work, washing swiftly. At least Hob never bothered him while he did chores.
He wondered what other apartments smelled like. He wondered what it was like to come home to food cooking and someone happy to see him.
Raph’s hands stung by the time he finished and dried off. He retreated down the hallway to his room: four walls, a mattress on the floor, a door that didn’t quite latch and whatever treasured possessions he had zipped up in a duffel bag, things from the vague time before Hob, hidden under smelly gym clothes.
Tomorrow he’d wake up and do it all again. Work until his hands hurt, come home and consider it a victory if he made it to his room without getting yelled at or shoved into the wall, or worse.
Fuck. There had to be something better out there.
Raph left work with his hands smelling like bleach and his hoodie smelling like beer.
Ivan had tossed him his day’s pay (forty bucks, crumpled up) and Raph had shoved the bills in his pocket. His pay varied from day to day. It was all under the table– he was a minor, after all– so he couldn’t complain even if he wanted to, though he was already stressing about making the money last for groceries.
The air outside was cold enough to bite. Hands shoved in his pockets, Raph took the long way home despite the cold. He did enjoy being out in the city. The cadence of sirens and traffic was a comfort, especially compared to what awaited at home.
If he shuffled his feet, looped a few blocks, maybe Hob would be passed out already when he got home.
He cut through an alley, knowing it would add a few minutes to his journey…
And stopped short.
Voices. Not the friendly kind. Raph recognized the situation, and squeezed into the shadows to observe.
“Hand it over.”
“I don’t want trouble,” someone said, calm but tight. “It’s nothing valuable to you, I swear.”
Raph shifted just enough to see around the dumpster.
Three guys had cornered someone near the mouth of the alley. Someone well-dressed. Dark jacket. Something rectangular clutched against his chest.
“C’mon, pretty boy,” one of the muggers sneered. “We know that case ain’t empty.”
The guy being cornered didn’t look panicked. Dumbass probably didn’t realize how serious the situation was.
Raph really should have kept walking.
“Hey. Dickfaces.”
All four of them looked at him. The cornered guy looked surprised, eyes (blue, Raph noted distantly) widening. The three muggers looked annoyed.
“Mind yer own fucking business,” one of the muggers snapped.
Raph rolled his neck, sliding his hands from his pockets. “This is my business now.”
The first swing came fast. Raph was faster.
He ducked the clumsy swing, and drove his fist into the guy’s ribs, felt the air leave him in a rush. Someone grabbed for his hoodie. Raph twisted, threw head and elbows back, heard a crunch and a curse. Immediately Raph balanced his legs, waiting for the next attack, grinning as the adrenaline burned clean through him. All the blows he wished he could deliver to another stupid stinking face.
One of the guys pulled a knife, swinging it. Raph caught the guy’s wrist, slamming his arm into the brick wall, kicking him hard in the stomach. The third guy came at him and Raph whirled to face him–
And suddenly the guy was on his back. Raph blinked. The well-dressed guy had moved, sweeping the third attacker’s legs out from under him in a smooth motion.
Huh. Okay. Maybe pretty boy wasn’t helpless after all.
“C’mon,” Raph panted, grabbing the guy’s nice jacket and pulling him from the alley. The muggers probably weren’t getting up any time soon, but Raph had learned it was wise not to stick around the scene of any crime, no matter who committed it.
Breathing hard, pulse thundering in his ears, Raph took a good look at the guy. Up close, Raph could tell he was about his age. Maybe a smidge older. Steady posture. Nerves of steel.
And blue eyes. The guy had deep, probing blue eyes.
“You…” the guy began, delicately clearing his throat. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, well.” Raph shrugged. “I’m not a fan of bullies. Don’t know if you actually needed my help though.”
“I think I did. My dad taught me how to fight, but that could have ended badly. So, thank you.”
“Sure.”
“One of them got you?” The guy shifted the case to one arm, reaching for Raph’s face. Raph recoiled on instinct. “Oh, sorry. You’ve got a bruise on your jaw.”
Raph touched the spot, gritting his teeth, knowing without looking that the bruise was the shape of Hob’s fingers. “That’s from something else. Anyway, watch your back out here.”
Stuffing his hands back into his pockets, Raph prepared to leave. He spun on his heels before a soft “Wait” made him pause. He glanced back at the guy with the case.
He was extending the hand he’d used to try and touch Raph’s face. “I’m Leonardo. Leo for short.”
Raph stared at the offered hand. Warily, he shook it, and instantly regretted putting his rough, cracked hand into the guy’s soft one. “Uh. Raph.”
“Thank you, Raph.” Leo shifted the case again, looking a little bashful. “Say, listen. My dad owns a restaurant a few blocks from here. I was just heading there. If you’re not in a rush, maybe I could get you some dinner? As thanks.”
Raph’s immediate instinct was to refuse. He’d had people at the bar offer to take him to dinner and hotels, and these things always ended with hands where he didn’t want them. Raph always refused offers. But he was hungry as fuck. He hadn’t eaten since the night before.
“... what’s the catch?” he asked flatly.
Leo looked stunned. “Um. There isn’t one? I owe you. I can fight, but one of those guys definitely would have taken this from me.” He patted the case.
“What’s in that thing, anyway? Cash?”
“A gift for my dad,” Leo smiled. “It’s a Yixing teapot.”
Raph fought the urge to roll his eyes. Must be nice to have a dad worth buying gifts for. “That’s it? Just a teapot?”
“It’s worth $1,000.”
“Fucking Christ.”
Leo smiled again. “So, I think dinner is fair recompense. I’ll even cook it myself. Come on.”
Raph hesitated one moment longer. “Okay. Sure, fine.”
“Awesome! Follow me, it’s not far.”
Raph followed, hands shoved deep in his pockets. If Hob caught him getting home this late, he’d be in for a world of hurt. But it’d been ages since he’d had food that wasn’t zapped in a microwave. Besides, it was just dinner. Didn’t mean a damn thing.
“Right here!”
Raph recognized the restaurant. He’d passed it a few times on his convoluted walks home, sometimes sparring a thought as to what it’d be like to wash dishes in a place like this. He’d probably have to hand-scrub all the delicate hand-painted china or whatever.
The sign above the door read Hamato in elegant lettering, smaller script beneath it promising Italian-Japanese Fusion. The windows were tinted though through the glass, Raph could see polished wood tables, paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, framed calligraphy beside vintage Italian posters. Weird. Classy-weird.
Leo pushed the door open and gestured him inside. “After you.”
The smell hit Raph first. Not beer and grease and puke like the bar. It smelled like actual cooking. Garlic blooming in butter, soy and toasted sesame. It was late, past the dinner rush, and the place was winding down, only a few tables occupied here and there. Soft piano echoed from speakers. The place was earthy and rich and inviting and suddenly Raph felt like he didn’t belong in such a warm, welcoming place.
“Leonardo?” a voice called from deeper inside.
An older rat emerged from the host station, eyes sharp but warm as he took in Raph.
“Good evening, Dad.” Leo greeted the rat with a warm hug, and Raph tried to hide how much the simple affection made his heart twist. “Raph, this is my father, Splinter. Dad, this is Raph. I owe him a big favour. Is it okay if I use the kitchen?”
“Certainly,” Splinter nodded. “Raph, make yourself comfortable. Sit where you please.”
Raph chose a table in the empty half of the restaurant, near the wall, back to it. The tablecloth was white and pristine. The cutlery was both polished silver and lacquered chopsticks. A small candle flickered in the centre of the table.
Much nicer than the bar’s paper coasters advertising the strip club across the street.
Leo reappeared at last, two plates in hand. He’d slipped on an apron and it was still tied to his torso as he slid into the seat across from Raph, setting the plates down.
Fragrant steam curled up in delicate ribbons. Thick noodles coated in glossy sauce. Mushrooms caramelized dark and fragrant. A soft egg folded in. A dusting of grated cheese and something green.
“Miso mushroom carbonara,” Leo announced. “My dad’s recipe. One of my favourites.”
Raph gulped. He’d never been hungrier. “Holy shit.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Leo reached for the cutlery, and Raph waited to see if he grabbed a fork or chopsticks before following his lead. Leo grabbed a fork. “You can take your hoodie off, by the way. It’s warm in here.”
“I’m good.”
Raph twirled some of the pasta around his fork, and took a bite. Holy shit. It was creamy and earthy and cheesy and all that fancy crap, and Raph shoveled a second forkful before he’d finished swallowing the first.
“Is it okay? My brother Mikey makes the best carbonara, but he’s not working tonight.”
Raph nodded his head immediately, spearing as many mushrooms as he could fit on the fork. “God, yes. It’s—” He swallowed. “It’s stupid good.”
Leo relaxed with a pleased smile.
They ate in quiet for a few moments. Or rather, Raph ate. Leo twirled a forkful but spent most of the meal watching Raph, until Raph became aware of the speed he was eating and forced himself to slow down.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Didn’t get a chance to eat today.”
“Wow, really? But it’s so late. You must have been busy.”
Raph shrugged. There wasn’t much to eat in the house but peanut butter, and the last time he’d eaten food from the bar’s sketchy kitchen, he’d puked for hours after.
“You can have mine too, if you want?” Leo offered, pushing the plate a fraction towards Raph. “I already had dinner.”
Raph should have protested, but the pasta was too damn good, and he’d probably never get to eat anything this expensive again. He reached for Leo’s plate without thinking, the sleeve of his hoodie slipping to his wrist. Leo’s eyes flicked down.
The skin across Raph’s knuckles was split in places, the skin red and raw across the green, tiny cracks around the tips of each finger. Fuck. He still couldn’t believe he’d shaken Leo’s hand with his gross mitt. Leo’s hands, on the flipside, were smooth and healthy and manicured.
“From the fight?” Leo delicately asked.
Shrugging, Raph curled his hand into a fist. “From my job. I wash dishes at Albie’s. The soap does a number on me.”
Leo winced in sympathy. “No gloves?”
“It’s a dive bar,” Raph snorted, pulling Leo’s plate over to sit on top of his empty one and tucking into the food. “I’m lucky Ivan pays me.”
“School?”
“Nah. Dropped out.”
“How come?”
Raph chewed and swallowed slower this time. “We needed the money. And honestly, the whole school experience really sucked. I still have nightmares.”
Leo let him eat in peace for a few minutes, before slowly nodding. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For all the crap you dealt with. You don’t deserve any of it.”
“No offense,” Raph muttered, chasing a last mushroom around his plate. “But you don’t know anything about me. Maybe I do deserve it.”
“Maybe I’m wrong then,” Leo said. “But I like to think I’m a good judge of character. I know you stepped into a fight to protect someone you didn’t know. That tells me a lot. Anyway, how about some dessert?”
Too numb to speak, Raph nodded slowly. Leo collected the empty plates, leaving Raph to ruminate by himself, and returned with a single plate and two small forks. On the plate was a single pastry, layers of pale green cream and ladyfingers dusted in powder.
“Matcha tiramisu,” Leo said. “Last one. I keep telling Donnie to make more, but…”
Leo handed him one of the forks, and Raph speared some of the pastry and ate it, slowly this time. It was just as good as the pasta.
Raph glanced around the restaurant. It was nearly empty. Leo still wore the apron, and Raph nodded to it. “Your dad lets you play around the kitchen whenever you want?”
“Well, I do work here part-time,” Leo chuckled, taking a small forkful of tiramisu. “But yes, pretty much. My brothers and I all work here. Dad trusts all of us.”
Must be nice. Raph swallowed his bitterness with more tiramisu. Again, Leo let him have the lion’s share of the food.
He was full at last and kind of drowsy from it, and that was the only reason Raph let his guard down and kept talking. “It’s not like that for me. My…” Dad was too kind a word for Hob. “My old man’s not like that at all.”
Leo waited, gave him a moment to decide if he wanted to continue or not.
“He’s… he’s not great.” Raph shrugged like it was no big deal.
“I’m really sorry,” Leo said softly. He probably had more platitudes to offer, but a gentle cough broke the moment.
“Pardon me,” Splinter said. “But it’s past closing time. Leonardo, we need to lock up.”
Oh fuck, Raph hadn’t realized how late it was. Hob was going to do a number on him.
“Sure thing.” Leo stood, gathering the empty dessert plate. “Listen, I made a huge batch of carbonara. How about I pack it up for you?”
“You don’t have to–”
“I’ll just have to toss it otherwise. I’ll be right back.”
Before Raph could argue further, Leo was off, disappearing into the kitchen again.
The restaurant was quiet now. The tables were empty, and Splinter moved through the space with precision, extinguishing candles and straightening chairs. So much care for the space.
Raph stayed seated, not sure what to do with himself.
Leo circled back from the kitchen, a bulging to-go container in hand. He paused to speak with Splinter. Raph couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the body language spoke volumes: Leo was relaxed, speaking reverently. They smiled as they spoke. Splinter placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder and bumped their heads together in a show of affection.
Raph thought back to the teapot in the case, wondering if it was meant to be a birthday gift. He almost wished he could be there, and see the joy on the old rat’s face. Almost immediately, Raph’s chest seized.
The idea of family and tenderness and happy moments was mundane. But it was such a foreign concept to Raph. He didn’t want to think about it any more.
He sniffled, roughly swiped at his face, and stood up. He needed to go. He didn’t belong here, with friendly faces and good food.
“Raph?”
He stopped at the door. Leo was standing behind him, container in hand. “You forgot this.”
“Thanks,” Raph muttered, grabbing the container.
Leo stopped him before he could turn for the door again. “Hey, listen– it’s late. And we live right around the block. If you want to crash at our place tonight, feel free.”
Raph swallowed back a sob. It felt like a trap. This is how it started, how one ended up owing someone. Kindness could turn into leverage. Everybody always wanted something from him, even if he couldn’t figure out what it was yet.
Heart pounding, Raph thought of Hob. There was a chance he’d be awake. He’d be pissed. He’d probably throw the leftover pasta in the garbage. And then he’d–
“I-I don’t…”
“It’s just us,” Leo shrugged. “My dad, and my two brothers. Honestly, between work and school, I don’t get to hang out with anyone. So… yeah?”
“... your dad cool with it?” Raph asked.
Splinter must have been close enough to overhear. “Any friend of my son’s is welcome under my roof.”
Raph pretended to think about it. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”
Leo smiled, and Raph’s heart pounded again.
The apartment was lived in, and it was amazing.
Warm lights, comfy couch. Shelves filled with picture frames, books, and art. It smelled as good as the restaurant. It was a far cry from the dump he came home to every night.
But he wasn’t thinking about that now.
“WHO DARES ENTER MY LAIR– oh whoops, new face.” A short turtle with bright eyes popped in from the kitchen. “Hi Dad. Hi, new person.”
“That’s Mikey,” Leo said. “He’s like a fungus. He grows on you eventually.”
“Hey!”
Raph followed Splinter and Leo’s lead and kicked off his shoes, shuffling a little in place. “Uh, I’m Raph.”
“Oh, Raph-Raph!” Mikey nodded. “Yeah, the guy who saved Leo in the alley. He texted us about it. You did good! He’s a delicate flower.”
“Oh, he’s here?” Another voice called, and a second turtle emerged from a nearby bedroom. “I’m Donnie. Welcome.”
“Thanks.”
“Dude, you’re tall,” Mikey whistled. “I’m not surprised, Leo likes tall guys.”
“Okay, I think we’re good.” Leo waved away his brothers. They stayed exactly where they were standing. “I’m just letting him crash here because it’s late. Go to bed or something.”
Donnie rolled his eyes. “That big brother energy doesn’t work on us, dork.”
Leo caught him in a head lock. Raph almost moved to defend, before realizing it was playful. Mikey snickered and pretended to punch Leo in the stomach. Splinter made a mock sound of despair.
“As you can see, my sons are perfect angels,” he said with a rumbling laugh. “Would you like some tea?”
Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to feel, Raph nodded dumbly.
A few minutes later, he was sitting on the very edge of the couch, stiffly holding a cup of tea in his hand. Splinter retreated for the night, leaving Donnie and Mikey sprawled on the floor in front of the couch, chattering about their day. Leo sat on the couch next to Raph.
It was nice. Hob wasn’t here. There was nothing to worry about. So why was he still on high alert?
“Look, it’s not like I meant to correct the teacher,” Mikey was saying, flat on the ground with his feet on the couch. “But if it involves pizza ingredients, I will not allow misinformation to spread. Tomato sauce couldn’t have existed in Italy before the 16th century.”
Leo smiled and took a sip of tea. Raph had the impression these kinds of silly conversations came up a lot. “Why’s that?”
“Because tomatoes are a new world food. Duh! They didn’t come to Italy until like four hundred years ago!”
“Pizza sauce could still have existed, just in North America,” Donnie offered.
“Nuh-uh! Because oregano is from the Mediterranean. Boom! Truth bomb."
Mikey was in culinary school, Raph had learned, and was the best chef at the restaurant. Donnie was studying for a mechanical engineering degree, though his skill with pastries was undeniable (baking is science, Donnie shrugged). Leo was studying business, and planning to take over the restaurant. No one asked Raph if he was studying anything. They could probably tell he wasn’t much in the educational department.
Hob had shaken any higher education dreams loose from his head a long time ago.
The chatter was soothing, and at some point, Raph realized his shoulders weren’t up around his ears anymore. He tried and failed to stifle a yawn.
“Yeah, it is late.” Leo took his cup and rose up. The brothers also hopped up and scattered, leaving Raph to sit and feel a little dumb.
Until Mikey returned with a fluffy pillow and blanket. “Sleep with your head on this side. The other side smells like Donnie’s feet.”
“It most certainly does not.” Donnie scoffed as he too returned, holding a bottle. “Here. For your hands. I work with pastries and the flour really dries out my skin.”
“Thanks,” Raph said, a little choked up. He held the bottle between his cracked fingers while Mikey got the couch ready for him.
Leo wandered back in with his own pillow and blanket, setting up on the floor next to the couch. Raph stared.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to share my bed,” Leo said sheepishly. “But that’s a little forward, so… slumber party?”
Raph chuckled weakly. He’d never actually had one of those. One needed friends for a sleepover. And an actual place to sleep.
Mikey and Donnie said their goodnights, leaving him and Leo alone in the living room. “Here…” Leo said, taking the bottle from Raph and squeezing some of the lotion out. It smelled spicy. Kind of nice. Without a second thought, he took Raph’s hand on his, rubbing the lotion on. It stung at first, then soothed. Raph exhaled slowly, relaxing, letting Leo work.
“Your uh… your dad going to be… okay with you staying?” Leo asked softly.
The question broke the spell.. Raph pulled his hands away, knowing what Leo was asking. “He might beat the shit out of me. He might just yell a little. Depends on his mood.”
“That’s not right.”
“It’s not that bad.” Raph shrugged. The very words he’d used to convince himself, over and over again, that his life didn’t suck. “He did take me in when I was little and no one else wanted me. I think he knew my parents. I guess I should be thankful. It just got worse when…”
“When what?”
“When I was twelve, I…” Raph sighed, making a faint gesture over his body. “I told him I didn’t feel like a girl. I didn’t think it was a big deal. Apparently, it was a big deal for him.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Leo assured. “I mean, it doesn’t change anything. You’re still you.”
Raph snorted, chuckling without humour. “Oh, it absolutely did. He said it didn’t matter what I call myself. He said I was just confused, sick. He said I’ll never be what I say I am.”
“He’s wrong,” Leo said simply. “And frankly, he sounds like a giant asshole.”
“No shit. Guy pulled me from school so I could work, then acts like he’s doing me a giant favour by letting me work.”
“What did you want to study?” Leo asked. “If you could have stayed in school?”
Raph tucked himself on the couch (away from the end with Donnie’s alleged feet smell), taking his time before answering. “... I kind of wanted to be a vet. Or do some kind of wildlife work. Anything with animals.”
Leo followed his lead, laying down on the floor with a smile. “I think that’s sweet.”
“It’s dumb.”
“Nope. It tells me exactly who you are. You’re Raph.”
Thank goodness the living room was dark, because Raph had to work to blink away the start of tears.
“Goodnight,” Leo murmured.
“Night, Leo.”
The apartment was warm, and smelled good. For the first time in a long time, Raph didn’t feel like he had to listen for footsteps outside his door.
Leo’s breathing evened out beside him. And slowly, Raph let his eyes slip shut
Raph woke to laughter.
He jolted upright, on instinct, and relaxed when he saw Mikey grinning at him. “Hey, he’s up! How do you like your coffee? Donnie’s making waffles! I love when we have company, we always eat so much better.”
While Raph was still getting his bearings, Leo appeared from the hallway. Jeez. Raph kept sleeping while the guy got up and, evidently, got dressed and ready for classes.
“Good morning,” Leo smiled.
Raph ran a hand over his face, hoping he didn’t look as disheveled as he felt. “Good morning.”
“Come on.” Leo extended a hand, and before Raph’s brain could catch up, he took it and let Leo haul him to his feet. “Donnie’s waffles are to die for.”
Breakfast was loud. Splinter poured tea. Mikey talked with his mouth full. There were aggressive-but-playful demands to pass the syrup, the juice, the strawberries. The chaos was relaxing, in an odd way. Raph was smiling by the time he finished his plate, even joining in with some of the banter.
When it was done, and Raph insisted he should get home before he pushed his luck any further, Leo walked him to the door.
“I’ll be working at the restaurant tonight,” Leo said, fiddling with his backpack strap. “If you want to swing by again.”
Raph’s heart was racing. “... yeah, okay. I’ll think about it.”
Leo smiled, swayed on his feet in a way that brought him inches from Raph’s face. He wasn’t… surely he didn’t want to…
Leo didn’t get close enough for a kiss, but his cheeks reddened anyway. Probably for the best. Raph hadn’t brushed his teeth yet. And the idea that anyone wanted to kiss him…
“Well, see ya later,” Raph said, clearing his throat.
Leo was still flushed. “I hope so.”
Raph hesitated even longer than usual outside the apartment door. He could hear the TV on, which didn’t necessarily mean Hob was awake, but wasn’t exactly a good sign either.
Okay. Time to face the music.
Hob hopped to his feet the second Raph opened the door. Raph wondered if there any hint of concern whatsoever in those angry eyes.
“The fuck have you been all night??”
Raph was ready. “Ivan made me stay late. Some guys trashed the bathroom. I was wiped out, so I slept in the back of the bar.”
Hob growled at him. “You lying to me, you little bitch?”
“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”
Before Hob could get him back for that, Raph pulled the two crumpled twenties from his pocket and held them out.
Hob snatched the cash, checked the bills, and nodded, satisfied. “Fine. Go on. And don’t get smart.”
Raph didn’t stick around to count his blessings. He hurried down the hall before Hob’s mood shifted.
HIs room was still four walls and a mattress. Not quite as plush as the couch at Leo’s place. He already missed the smell of cooking waffles and coffee, the noise of the family at breakfast.
He missed the way Leo had looked at him, and almost leaned in, and…
Raph smothered his face into his pillow, hiding the stupid noise that escaped him, the stupid grin that followed.
Raph stopped by the restaurant again that night.
And the next one.
He was always welcome. Leo usually cooked for him, sometimes Mikey did. After a while, Raph repaid them by staying past closing, washing the dishes and helping tidy up the restaurant.
Splinter started welcoming him with a warm smile and a hug. Mikey now tested new recipes on him. Donnie taught him a few things in the kitchen, showing him how to knead dough and temper eggs for custard.
And Leo always sat with him, or hovered nearby, smiling and chatting, and Raph looked forward to that most of all.
And then, he started to stay over more often. He got more and more comfortable on the couch. He learned the rhythm of their home, until he became part of it, until he helped with dishes like it was nothing, until he prepared Splinter’s tea for him without a second thought.
Splinter’s birthday was coming up in two months, the occasion for which Leo had purchased the expensive teapot. Raph anticipated the celebration more than he’d ever looked forward to his own birthday.
He fit into the family like a missing piece, until Mikey started using his lap as a pillow during movie nights, until Donnie bought him his own hand lotion as a gift, until Leo started brushing their fingers together and Raph grasped back, like it was second nature.
He was pushing it with Hob, he could tell. He hadn’t been home in nearly a week now, and he was running out of excuses, but he couldn’t help it: Leo’s apartment, and the restaurant, and his brothers, and Splinter, felt like home now.
Maybe he didn’t have a reason to go back to Hob’s place.
Anyway.
He and Leo had the place to themselves. Splinter and Mikey were working the restaurant. Donnie was in class. And Leo pulled him playfully to the apartment’s kitchen, so he could teach Raph how to cook something new.
“Caprese onigiri?”
“Trust me,” Leo laughed, spooning the warm rice from the cooker. “It’ll work.”
Every dish Leo made since their first meeting had been delicious, so Raph had faith. Besides, he wasn’t going to argue with the way Leo showed him how to make the onigiri, guiding his fingers to cup it properly.
“Don’t squeeze it,” Leo said, pressed against Raph’s side. “Just shape it.”
He adjusted the pressure of Raph’s thumbs, nudging his fingers inward, breath warm against the side of Raph’s neck. Raph was pretty sure he had the technique right, but he let Leo guide him. Together they added a small piece of fresh mozzarella to the centre of the rice, a pinch of chopped basil, a diced tomato. Leo helped him fold the rice around it, palms pressing together.
“That’s nice,” Leo whispered, and it didn’t feel like he was talking about the onigiri.
Pulse racing, Raph turned slightly. Their faces were inches apart, hands loosely cupping the onigiri between them.
Raph closed the distance.
The kiss started soft, then slowly deepened. Somewhere between the tongue that followed and the hands pulling and grasping, Raph dimly hoped they hadn’t dropped the onigiri on the floor. Be a shame to waste good food.
Leo’s hand was halfway under his hoodie, Raph’s hips moving in little circles against Leo’s thigh. They pulled apart, breathless.
“Finally,” Raph panted, grinning.
Leo was looking beautifully flushed, just like that first morning when he’d almost gone for a kiss. God, it felt like ages ago. Why had they wasted so much time? “We can stop,” Leo said. “Say the word if you don’t want to–”
“I want to.”
They kissed again, and Raph planted his hands on Leo’s ass, rolling his hips deliberately, just in case Leo had any doubt that he really, really wanted this.
Raph’s heart hammered as he ground against Leo’s thigh, moving faster as Leo’s hands roamed up his shell, slipping under his hoodie. The kiss broke for a gasp of air.
“You’re sure?” Leo asked. “Super sure?”
“Oh my god, shut up.” Raph grinned, shaky with nerves but excited as hell. His body ached with anticipation, a wetness building between his legs with every grind against Leo’s thigh.
Leo smiled, pressing their foreheads together. “Let’s… let’s go to my room? I have fantasized about doing it in the kitchen, but a bed might be better…”
The onigiri lay forgotten on the counter as they entwined fingers and stumbled to the bedroom.
“I… I don’t have much experience with this,” Leo coughed. “So, if I mess up…”
“You won’t.” Raph kissed him again. Leo wanted him, just for him, and that alone made the whole experience worth it.
They shed clothing, bodies brushing. Leo’s cock stood hard and flushed against his plastron, and Raph’s gaze dropped to it, curiosity and desire mixing with a flutter of anxiety. He’d never seen one of those. He never thought he’d want one of those this badly.
“You’re so handsome,” Leo breathed, hand sliding down Raph’s side to rest on his hip.
Raph shivered, slick and throbbing, shifting his legs apart a little more to invite touch. To make things really clear, he wrapped his fingers around Leo’s cock, squeezing gently. It twitched in his hand, hot and velvety, and Leo groaned, bucking his hips.
“Sorry,” Leo panted. “Feels good. Really good.” He responded by cupping Raph’s pussy gently. His fingers explored the soft, wet folds, parting them to circle Raph’s clit with feather-light touches. Raph gasped, knees shaking. “Is that okay?”
“More,” Raph pleaded, rocking into the touch. Leo’s finger dipped inside, sliding easily through the wetness. The angle was a bit awkward, but the stretch was incredible, filling him perfectly.
They moved to the bed. Leo kissed him softly, then kissed lower, trailing his lips down Raph’s plastron, moving lower. Raph’s breath hitched as Leo settled between his legs, kissing the inside of his thighs, then licking a slow strip along Raph’s pussy.
He lapped at the slick folds, then focused on the clit, sucking gently. Raph’s hands flew to the top of Leo’s head, holding on for dear life as Leo worshipped him.
This felt right. He’d spent so much time hating this part of his body, giving it no thought beyond hygiene. Hob’s words always rattled around in his head and he thought of his pussy as something that was wrong, not something to be enjoyed.
Leo was teaching him otherwise, and so damn well.
“Leo… oh god, don’t stop…” Raph panted, body tensing. He was close already, overwhelmed with building pleasure.
Leo pulled back slightly. “I want you to come for me. I really want to feel it…” He dove back in tongue flicking faster now, pushing a shallow finger inside Raph’s hole.
That did it. Raph came with a choked cry, clenching around Leo’s finger, thighs snapping open and then shut. Leo worked him through it with gentle licks until Raph tugged him up, pulling him into a deep kiss.
“Y-your turn,” Raph said, voice husky, breath heaving. He sat up, straddling Leo’s thighs and reaching for his cock, stroking it slowly.
Leo moaned, hips jerking. He guided Raph’s hand in a slow rhythm, until it was clear he needed more. “Can I… inside you?”
Raph nodded eagerly, though the nerves came roaring back. “Yeah. Please.”
Moving up to sit against the headboard, Leo let him take the lead, and Raph was grateful for the control. He hovered over Leo’s lap, just above his cock. Skin on skin, the heat between them intense. Raph’s hands braced on Leo’s chest, feeling the frantic thump of Leo’s heart through his plastron.
Leo held his cock steady with one hand, and Raph felt the tip nudging at his entrance. Breathing deep, Raph lowered himself, inch by inch. The head pushed inside, stretching his pussy, and he winced at the burn, pausing to adjust. “Jeez… you’re big.”
Preening a little, Leo put soothing hands on Raph’s hips. “T-take your time. You feel so good.”
Raph sank further, the stretch overwhelming but sweet. He fumbled a little as he shifted, trying to find the right angle, and soon he was fully seated, hips flush. “You can move if you want,” Raph panted, starting a tentative roll of his hips. “It’s… it’s good. Really good.”
Nodding, panting, Leo thrust up gently. They found a rhythm, bumping awkwardly at first, until it smoothed into a hot, perfect movement. Raph rode him slowly, grinding down whenever Leo pushed up and filled him completely.
"I love you," Leo said suddenly, voice breaking as he watched Raph's face.
Raph's eyes stung, pleasure coiling tight in his belly. "Love you too.” He leaned down for a messy kiss as he ground harder, chasing the building heat. Leo's hands roamed, stroking where they joined, thumb on Raph's clit.
It built gradually, sweetly, until Raph came with a cry, pussy fluttering around Leo's cock, pulling him over the edge. Leo came with a low groan, spilling hot and deep inside, filling Raph without restraint.
They clung together, hips still tight together, trembling through the aftershocks, hearts pounding.
“That was so nice,” Leo murmured.
“Yeah.” Raph hummed, smiling. It felt more than nice. It felt like home.
The days turned into weeks.
Somewhere between late nights at the restaurant and early-morning coffee, Raph stopped counting how many nights he’d spent in the Hamatos’ home.
He slept in Leo’s room now, and woke up every morning with Leo’s long arms wrapped around his body.They never got enough of each other’s bodies.
Splinter knew. Mikey knew, and Donnie knew, and beyond some knowing grins and winks, no one made any smart remarks about it, aside from the occasional “boyfriends” comment.
There was a drawer in Leo’s dresser that held Raph’s spare hoodie. A new red toothbrush lived beside the family’s at the sink.
He worked at the restaurant most days now. Not because anyone demanded it, but because Raph wanted to. He liked the rhythm of prep work before opening, learning how to dice and prepare sauces. As it turned out, he had a flair for soups.
“Oh my god,” Leo murmured, tasting the simmering Japanese Italian wedding soup. “Delish. I’ve tried making this but I can never get the broth right.”
“You need to ease up on the ginger a little,” Raph said, bumping his hip playfully against Leo’s. “Trust the meaning of ‘a dash’.”
“I love it when you talk shop.”
Leo spared a glance for Donnie at the other end of the kitchen, who was finishing up a batch of yuzu cheesecakes, and caught Raph in a quick kiss.
Raph sighed when they pulled apart. “Hob’s gotta be losing his mind by now.”
He felt Leo go still. “It’s been how long? Weeks?”
“Month and a half, I think?” He’d never stayed away for longer than a day. He wondered if Hob was pissed. He wondered if Hob was worried. Raph hadn’t seen missing persons posters on the poles outside, so maybe Hob didn’t give a shit.
“You don’t ever have to go back,” Leo said.
“Probably not. I just… I’ve still got some stuff there. Not much. My old notebooks, and some things from before Hob took me in. I don’t want to lose those.” Assuming Hob hadn’t torched everything in a fury.
Leo nodded. “Okay. Then, we’ll get your stuff. We can sneak in. You know, all ninja-style.”
Raph opened his mouth to chuckle…
… and the room tilted.
“Whoa.” Leo caught him, holding on tight. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just stood up too fast.”
“You’re already standing.”
The lights in the kitchen were suddenly too bright. The scent of the tomato-ginger broth hit him wrong. His stomach lurched, and he groped for the edge of the prep table.
“You’re not– Raph! Donnie, come help! Bring a bucket!”
Raph heard the scrambling as Donnie skidded over with an empty plastic bin. Not in the kitchen, not near the food! Raph managed a few stumbling steps to the back room before throwing up into the bin.
“He’s all pale,” Donnie remarked, hovering uselessly.
Leo was at his side, cool hand on Raph’s forehead. “Easy. Catch your breath. You okay?”
“Uh-huh.” Panting, Raph waited to see if more was going to come up. Nothing else did.
“Take the day off,” Leo soothed. “I’ll walk you home so you can sleep.”
“I’m okay,” Raph sighed.
Donnie had fetched a cold cloth from the kitchen. “What happened? Did you eat something bad? Please tell me it wasn’t from the kitchen.”
“Nah. I think… I think talking about Hob didn’t agree with me.” Raph laughed a little weakly.
Leo hugged him. “Go sleep. Then we’ll go get your stuff, and you’ll never have to think about Hob again.”
That sounded nice, not thinking about Hob.
He tried not to think about the way his stomach had been a little funny for days now. Or the way certain smells had started hitting him wrong. Or the bone-deep exhaustion creeping in under his skin.
Anxiety was a bitch.
“Okay,” Raph said softly. “Okay.”
Leo took him home, put him to bed, and fussed for a few more minutes before leaving for the restaurant.
Raph slept for almost four hours. It wasn’t like him. He woke up still tired, but at least his stomach felt better. He couldn’t believe the thought of Hob was affecting him this badly. Ugh.
He dragged himself to his feet and into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and splashing water on his face. Stared at his reflection.
He looked normal. Not sick. A little sweaty, maybe. Definitely anxious. But he’d lived through worse.
The front door clicked open, and before Raph could wonder who was home, Mikey’s voice rang out. “Helloooo! I bring offerings of soup!”
Mikey took one look at him as he stumbled down the hallway.
“Gasp! He lives, maybe.” Mikey held up a paper bag with a grin. “Donnie texted to say you barfed at the restaurant. Want chicken noodle soup? It’s from the bodega.”
“Yeah, okay. Can’t handle tomato smell right now but chicken should be good.” He’d gotten used to accepting casual shows of love and affection, but Mikey’s offer still had him tearing up.
“Easy,” Mikey laughed. “It’s good, but not that good.”
He got Raph situated with a bowl and spoon and watched carefully as Raph ate the soup. It was indeed quite good.
“Soooo…” Mikey hummed. “You been feeling okay lately?”
“Uh, yeah?” Raph slurped some soup and shrugged. “Stressed about getting some stuff from the old apartment, but that’s it.”
“A little queasy here and there?”
“It’s just stress–”
“More tired than usual?”
“Well, I have been working at the restaurant a lot–”
“Smells are bugging you more lately?”
“... stress?”
“Listen, there’s a girl in one of my classes who suddenly couldn’t handle the smell of garlic, and… well, I’m just saying. Things are sounding a little familiar.”
Mikey mimed a semicircle over his stomach, and the realization hit Raph like a ton of bricks. “No. No, it’s not…”
“I’m just saying,” Mikey sing-songed. “There is a certain kind of test one might take when one is mysteriously nauseous and exhausted and glowy.”
“I’m not!”
“Raph.” Mikey reached over the table and patted his hand. “Hey. I’m not trying to be a troll. It’s just… you know. This is a thing. That can happen. When you and my brother do the things you keep doing. A lot.”
“No,” Raph said again. This time, he could barely keep the edge of hysteria out of his voice. “No, it’s not… I’m not… fuck!”
“Hey hey! It wouldn’t exactly be the end of the world if you were… y’know.”
“Yes it would!” Raph gulped, his gut roiling. “It would screw everything up! Leo’s got school, he’s got the restaurant, and… I’m trying to earn my keep, I don’t want to bring another burden into your family! What if Leo thinks I trapped him!? What if–”
Mikey rose from his chair, circled around the table, and hugged Raph.
“Shut up,” Mikey whispered. “You’re not a burden. You’re part of this family. We all love you so, so much. And if you are… y’know… that’s not screwing anything up. Jeez! It just means the family’s growing. Do you know how thrilled Dad’s going to be? I don’t think he ever thought he’d marry any of us off.”
Raph’s throat tightened. He sniffled against Mikey’s chest.
Mikey held him for several long minutes, long enough for the soup to go cold. “... maybe I should take a test,” he murmured at last.
“When you’re ready,” Mikey agreed. “I’ll be with you. Well not with with, I don’t need to watch you pee on anything. But I’ll be close by.”
Raph sniffled again, burying his face in Mikey’s chest. But this time, there was a hint of a smile through the tears. Maybe Mikey was right. Maybe this wouldn’t be the worst thing.
Raph decided, very firmly, that he was not telling Leo anything until he’d taken a test. He needed to wrap his head around the possibility first.
He also needed to get his stuff from Hob’s apartment first.
He and Leo walked side-by-side. The closer they got to Raph’s old building, the more his stomach tightened, and it had little to do with the thing he needed to take a test for.
It looked the same as always from the outside. Cracked concrete steps. Busted fire escape. Stained front door. Raph walked slower the closer they got to the door.
“You good?” Leo asked.
Raph shrugged. “Yeah. It’s fine. No big deal. I’m just really glad this is the last time I see this place.”
Leo reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “We’ll be quick, in and out.”
Raph squeezed back, wishing he could throw himself in Leo’s arms and sob and be comforted. Not here, though. Not in this neighbourhood. Not when they needed to be fast. Not when Raph prayed that Hob was out, or at least passed out.
Leo followed him inside the building, up the stairwell that smelled like booze and piss, down the hallway. Holding his breath, Raph pushed his key in the door. It still worked. The door was locked, and Raph wanted to cheer– meant Hob was out.
It felt surreal. He hadn’t been back inside in months. It was all mostly the same. The same couch, the same TV, the same mess in the kitchen. Raph was a little surprised to find his room exactly the same: mattress on the floor, clothes where he’d left them.
Grab. Pack. Go.
He pulled out the duffel bag from under the bed. Inside, he’d hidden the only things that mattered to him: spare cash, his precious notebooks, pictures of himself as a young child (he didn’t know who’d taken them) and a ratty stuffy he’d had since before Hob took him in.
Raph gulped back a sob. His kid would have nicer things, and tons of pictures.
With Leo’s help, he stuffed the rest of his things in the duffel bag– clothes, spare charger, shoes. They were almost done when the front door slammed open like a gunshot.
Raph froze. “Fuck. Shit.”
Heavy footsteps staggered across the living room. He knew that rhythm. This was going to be rough.
“RAAAPH! You fucking… you here??”
Hob’s voice slurred its way through the apartment. Leo immediately stood, putting himself between Raph and the bedroom doorway just as Hob appeared.
Hob’s eyes were glassy and furious. “The FUCK have you been! Fuckin’... went to Albie’s and Ivan said you wassn’t showing up for work anymore?? Fuck’s this? The fuck are you??”
“Raph’s just getting his things,” Leo said, calmly but dangerously. “And we’re leaving. Forever.”
“The hell you are! You the boyfriend or somethin’? You fucking her?”
“He’s my family,” Leo said. “And I’m going to keep him safe from you, forever.”
Hob lunged forward. He was drunk, which made him slower, but also meaner. He managed to shoulder his way past Leo, enough to grab at the duffel bag and yank hard, almost sending Raph to the floor.
Raph almost put his hands to his stomach, thinking only of protecting the little thing that might be growing inside him. Raph could fight. He could probably take Hob. But if things went bad–
Leo didn’t give him a chance to worry about it. He grabbed Hob’s shoulder and used his drunken momentum against him, spinning him away from Raph. “You don’t touch him!”
“Oh you got a mouth on you!” Hob swung. Leo caught his wrist before it landed, tugging until Hob was off-balance, sending him crashing into the dresser.
“Let’s go,” Leo urged, grabbing Raph’s arm. Clutching the duffel bag to his chest, Raph followed as Hob bellowed and stomped after them.
They took the stairwell. Hob would either struggle to negotiate the stairs in his drunken state, or he’d fall flat on his ass. Either way, it was the head start they needed.
Raph panted, lightheaded from the adrenaline, as they ran outside and stopped around the corner. He wanted to cry, scream, whoop for joy. And then Leo’s arms went around him, holding him tight while he caught his breath.
“I love you,” Leo whispered.”You’re safe.”
Raph sobbed.
Dinner at the Hamato apartment was rarely quiet, but that night it was celebratory.
It was Splinter’s birthday. Leo, Mikey, and Raph had cooked up a multi-course dinner. Donnie had prepared a strawberry cream roll cake, Splinter’s favourite, and Raph watched as he blew out the candles.
Raph still had trouble believing that this was all real, that he belonged here. He and Leo had run from Hob’s apartment a week ago, and hadn’t looked back since.
Two days ago, with Mikey’s gentle encouragement, Raph had finally taken a test. He’d sworn MIkey to secrecy about the results, needing time to reflect.
“Time for presents?” Donnie announced. He nudged Leo, and Leo produced a heavy gift bag.
“My sons,” Splinter chuckled, finishing a last bite of strawberry cream cake. “You all worked so hard on dinner. That is more than enough.”
“Oh, he always says that,” Mikey chuckled, gently elbowing Raph. “But he’s like a little kid.”
Leo placed the gift bag carefully in front of Splinter, who wasted no time pulling out the tissue paper, slowly lifting the gift inside.
The Yixing teapot was smooth and dark red-brown. Raph knew how expensive it was (it was unglazed, made from special clay, and designed to improve the flavour of tea over time) but to him, it was the object that had brought him and Leo together, not so long ago.
Splinter lifted the teapot, examining it, tears shining from his eyes. “Beautiful. Absolutely incredible. Thank you, boys!”
“I have something too,” Raph murmured. He handed Splinter a small, awkwardly wrapped jar.
Splinter smiled, touched, and carefully ripped the wrapping away to reveal a small jar of loose leaf tea.
“It’s Oolong,” Raph said. “For your new teapot.”
“My son,” Splinter whispered, clutching the jar to his chest. “I will enjoy this greatly. Thank you.”
Leo put his arm around him, and Raph held back a watery smile. My son.
If he’d had any doubt about his place in the family, the simple term of endearment erased it.
Okay. Raph drew in a deep breath as the others got up, gathering dishes. He stopped Leo with a quick hand on his arm.
“Hey. Can we… uh… talk for a second?”
“Of course.”
He saw the flicker of worry in Leo’s eyes and slipped his hand into Leo’s as they snuck out of the kitchen, squeezing it so the poor guy wouldn’t think he was about to be on the end of a “we need to talk” talk.
The noise from the kitchen faded as they went into their room. In the sudden quiet, Raph could hear his own heartbeat thudding in his ears.
They sat on the bed, where Leo kept looking at him– attentive, apprehensive, loving. It made Raph want to kiss him.
“What’s up? Leo asked.
Raph drew in a breath, calming himself down. “Okay. So, uh… I took a test. A few days ago.”
Leo blinked. “Like… a school test?”
That almost made Raph chuckle. They had talked about Raph going back to school. “No, no. But the test was… it was positive.”
Leo continued to blink, still not getting it. Raph braced himself.
“I’m pregnant.”
The silence that followed was long and heavy and Raph felt his chest tighten by the second. Leo was quiet. But he moved fast, trapping Raph in a shaky hug.
“You are?? We… we’re gonna have a baby? Seriously!?”
Raph’s carefully-rehearsed ‘if you don’t want it, I understand’ speech fell by the wayside as Leo hugged him tight, pulled away for a kiss, then hugged him again.
“Holy shit!” Leo giggled, tears in his eyes. “Holy shit holy shit! This is amazing! We gotta tell the others!”
“So you’re not mad?”
Leo almost fell over. “... mad? Why would I be mad? This is… Raph! I’ve always wanted a big family!”
“I didn’t want you to think that I was… trapping you, or using you, or that this is going to mess everything up–”
Leo caught his face, cupping his cheeks gently. “No. Never. I’ve dreamed of this, Raph. Especially with you. I wasn’t going to bring it up, not for a while, but… oh man, we gotta tell Dad! He’s going to be so excited!”
“Uh, right now?”
“Yes, right now! This is going to make the teapot look like a pair of socks in comparison! Come on!”
Well, why not? Raph was still riding the wave of relief. He hadn’t realized how tense he was until now. He let Leo grab his hand, tug him to the door, back into the kitchen.
“Hey, lovebirds!” Mikey snickered. He took one look at Raph’s bewildered-but-bright expression and Leo’s pure joy, and caught on immediately. He winked at them both and plopped back into his seat to wait for the news.
“Hey… guys? Dad?” Leo took Raph’s hand again. “Turns out there’s one more little surprise gift tonight. Happy birthday, Grandpa!”
It took a few seconds for the implication to sink in. MIkey grinned smugly. Donnie gasped. And Splinter sat, expression softening, until he rose to his feet with a big watery smile.
“Oh my son!” He looped his warm arms around Raph, hugging him ever so gently. “What a beautiful gift.”
“You’re pregnant?” Donnie stammered. “Oh my god, that is so cool.”
The kitchen exploded with a million questions– how was he feeling, how far along, would they possibly consider Mikey Jr. as a name– and Raph let it all wash over him. It felt warm, it felt right, and he didn’t fight the sudden rush of tears.
Because for the first time in his life, the word family no longer felt like something distant he was looking in at through a window.
Several months later
“She’s going to be so, so incredibly spoiled.”
The restaurant closed early that night, so the Hamato family could focus on the latest arrival: little Hana, swaddled and nestled in Raph’s arms.
He was exhausted and sore from the delivery, but he’d never felt happier. Hana was perfect, and already they could tell she had Leo’s big blue eyes.
“She’s already so spoiled,” Raph chuckled, voice still raspy from the effort.
Leo pointed to Mikey and Donnie. “You two have got to stop buying stuffies. She’s not even home yet and her nursery is full of them.”
While Donnie and Mikey professed their innocence, Splinter carefully sat on the edge of Raph’s hospital bed. “May I hold her? If you allow it.”
“Of course,” Raph said, and let Leo take her so he could transfer her to Splinter’s waiting arms. He peered down at his granddaughter and whispered sweet words in Japanese to her.
“You did great,” Leo said, kissing Raph’s head. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Raph murmured.
Finally, he was home.