Work Text:
It's raining. That's not unusual here, at this time of year.
You're usually a lot better about bringing your umbrella with you when it looks like it's going to rain. Rain in the city's not as pleasant as it might be anywhere else; for one, everyone seems to be in more of a rush than usual. Transit is a constant slipping hazard, too. Even wet socks, terrible enough on their own, means picking up all the nastiness from the asphalt through the soles of your tennis shoes.
It’s not all bad, though. For one, there's less people than usual. There's safe havens in little corner coffee shops and under the veranda of random hotels. Everything gets washed away a little in the torrent, sluiced down into street drains and down into the complex waterways of New York’s sewer systems. A pause and a reset, all in one.
The sound is the best part, though. The white noise of rain hitting glass and metal. The way it easily swallows up the ambience of cars passing by, reducing everything to a dull, distant thrum.
The dampening effect is usually better when you have your umbrella. You suppose you’re just… unlucky, tonight. Caught out in a thick spring downpour, you had sought the closest shelter possible. Curled up under the vaguely dinosaur-shaped playground structure, you tuck your fingers over your kneecaps and wonder how long the rain is going to last.
Thankfully it was pretty balmy before the skies opened up. Just warm enough to stay a little longer in the downpour, you rationalize to yourself, wrapping your coat a little tighter around your torso and letting yourself drift a little deeper into the familiar hazy white noise.
Time slows down a little in moments like these. It’s a nice reprieve from the constant rush occurring around you. Sometimes it feels like a bit of a fluke that you’re able to keep pace, especially considering the people you keep close.
It’s hard to say how long you’re there for. In your little pocket of the universe, your eyes had gone a little hazy, eyes eventually sliding shut as your thoughts begin to pleasantly drift and disconnect.
You only open your eyes again when something evidently shifts.
The constant sound of the rain pitter-pattering against the arch of the playground structure isn’t there anymore. But it’s definitely still raining; a glance across the park confirms it, fat raindrops are still dancing from where they hit metal and asphalt, the rain a little heavier than it had been before. It’s only here, in a small radius around you, that the downboar seems to disappear into nothing.
There’s a neon blue glow reflecting off the wet surface of the arch that gives you a settling source of clarity. You’d recognize that color anywhere. Maybe a little too readily, you wonder, thoughts starting to surface and tip. There, too, in front of the entryway is a pair of familiar green legs, calves wrapped in black athletic tape and connected to long, thin ankles that sink comfortably into a pair of worn white sneakers.
Leo crouches with a huff, his brow raised in mild amusement as he slides one of his swords back into the sheath strapped to the back of his shell.
“ Well , fancy meeting you down here,” he drawls, watching the way you shift to better meet his gaze with an easy smile. His eyes scour over you, lips pursing as he takes in your thin jacket and your soaked hair. “Hm. You’re gonna catch a cold like that, hermosa.” He taps a finger gently against your hand resting on your knees, gesturing loosely in a come-on motion. “I'll portal you home, personal escort.”
He starts to turn away like he’s about to stand. You... should go home. There's no reason not to; even without an umbrella, a portal from Leo will guarantee that you make it back without getting even more soaked than you already are. But something has you a little possessed; that glittering little feeling that traveled across the back of your hand where he had touched you briefly. A feeling that something was missing.
You catch his hand before it completely pulls from your reach. He pauses, eyes a little wide, his expression barely changing but still betraying the dozens of little thoughts pinballing behind his eyes as he stares at the way your fingers softly press into the side of his palm.
It’s a pleasant surprise when he comes closer instead of using your tether to pull you out of your makeshift shelter. it takes a little bit of shuffling-- he’s gotten stupidly big over the years, almost like he’ll never stop growing-- but you both manage to fit together comfortably, the warmth of him radiating against your side. Almost like an afterthought, Leo loops his arm around your shoulders and holds you a little closer against his shell.
The blue glow flickers and vanishes. Once again you’re tucked back into that little pocket of the world where sound barely reaches you; isolated, soft. but a little less lonely.
Sorry , you almost say, feeling a little bad for the way you’d brought him into your impulsive little world. The word catches on your tongue when you see the way he settles against you, too; a little softer than you’re used to seeing him, his fingers gently stroking unknowable patterns against the surface of your skin.
“Thanks for looking for me,” you say instead, gently bumping your head against the crook of his neck affectionately. “And for humoring… this.”
He shrugs, eyes fluttering to meet yours for a moment. “I mean, in your defense… this is weirdly relaxing.” He gives you a lazy little grin, but the way he sinks against you is a minute but visible shift; his shoulders droop a little further, his chest starts to quietly rumble, light and airy like a constant muted chirp. It adds to the white noise a bit, and you press your ear against his chest to hear it a little clearer.
It’s difficult to temper the burst of adoration in your chest. Your lips curl in amusement, but before you can say anything Leo’s arm curls around your shoulders a little tighter, securing you against his torso.
“Shhhshh. I know. Don’t say anything,” he says, the rush in his voice betraying a little bit of his boyish embarrassment.
You pull back enough to catch a glimpse of his expression. He’s turning away minutely, but you’re close enough to catch the corner of his mouth as he presses his lips together in a tight line.
Warmth flickers between you like firelight, soft and alive, a little bit of it carrying out of you and into him as you press an affectionate smile against his skin, feeling the way it vibrates with the sound from his chest. There’s a hitch in his breath, and you swear you can feel his fingers hold a little tighter against the soft curve of your shoulder.
You tap your fingers along the surface of his plastron, the texture there grounding you a little bit more in the moment. “It’s nice. I like it.”
He closes his eyes, a little sigh ghosting against your jaw as he nuzzles a little closer. “Of course you would,” he says, something soft and pearlescent dying his tone against his better judgment. His hand comes up to brush over your eyes in a slow motion, urging you to close them. “It’s just because of the rain, okay? I’m a turtle. I can’t help it.”
“Of course,” you say easily, already falling back into the comfortable, easy lull of his voice, low and lilting over the surrounding white noise. You’ll save the teasing for next time. For now, you’re more than content to let him have his easy out.
Only for today, it’s just because of the rain.