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You could tell it was getting really late. Donnie’s lab is quiet. Mikey’s music stopped, and even Raph seems to have finally surrendered to sleep.
Except for you and Leo, of course.
Leo is propped up on a beanbag chair that has seen more than its fair share of movie marathons and post-mission naps. You are curled up on the rug at his feet, cocooned in a thick blanket. On the projector screen, an old sci-fi movie is playing, one that Leo had claimed was ‘a cult classic’ and ‘surprisingly deep if you pay attention.’
But honestly, neither of you is really watching.
Your eyes are closed, but you aren’t asleep. You’re floating in that pleasant, syrupy state just before unconsciousness, listening to the cheesy dialogue and the zap of laser pistols. A soft yawn escapes you. Your body shifts slightly, burrowing deeper into the blanket.
Leo glances down, one corner of his mouth tugging up. “Tired already?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, but threaded with affection.
“Just a little,” you admit, mumbling, not bothering to open your eyes.
You hear him chuckle.
There’s a beat of quiet, then you feel a light tap on your head. More fond than playful. Then, familiar hands carefully work their way under you. There’s a moment of weightlessness as he scoops you up, blanket and all, being careful not to jostle you too much.
He is so strong, yet his touch is impossibly careful, as if he were handling something infinitely fragile.
Before you can fully register what’s happening, Leo has maneuvered you onto the beanbag chair with him. Then you’re being nestled against him, tucked up against the cool curve of his plastron. He wraps his arm around your shoulders securely. And finally, his chin comes to rest gently on the top of your head.
“Better?” he asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
Not trusting yourself to form words, you hum in response, too content to say anything more as you snuggle closer to his chest. Breathing in the comforting smell of him. The steady thump of his heartbeat under your ear is slow and sure, a rhythm that steadies your own.
You feel him press a soft kiss to your hair, a gesture so tender it makes your heart ache pleasantly. A smile pulls at your lips, sleep tugging you down like a tide. The last thing you remember before drifting off completely is the feeling of being anchored, of being completely and utterly safe.
Leo stays awake.
He doesn’t move, barely even breathes, afraid he’ll wake you if he shifts too much. He watches as your breathing evens out, the rise and fall of your chest a gentle, rhythmic motion against his own. After waiting a few more minutes, listening to the soft sighs that punctuate your descent into sleep, he tucks the blanket more securely around you.
Your features are relaxed, free of the tension he sometimes sees after long days topside. He observes the tiny flutter of your lashes, the way your fingers twitch slightly under the blanket as you slip deeper into dreams. You murmur something incoherent, nuzzling your face against his plastron before settling back into stillness.
He wonders, not for the first time, what kind of world you dream about. Was it something mundane from your life before them, or had their chaotic world seeped into your subconscious?
He knows what this looks like to anyone else. He knows what Raph would say, how Mikey would nudge him and smirk, or how Donnie would quirk a brow and mutter something about proximity bonding and oxytocin.
But it’s not about that. Not entirely.
There’s something grounding about your presence. Like holding on to you keeps him tethered. Like everything slows down—his brothers, missions, expectations, the pressure—and centers on this one simple thing: you, breathing against him.
Being around you is a familiar feeling, a quiet but powerful hum in his chest that settles there whenever he sees you. Whether you were laughing at one of Mikey’s jokes, arguing with Donnie about some nerdy theory, or holding your own in a sparring match with Raph. It’s a feeling of rightness, a sense of a crucial piece of the puzzle clicking into place.
He brushes a strand of hair from your face, barely grazing your skin, and sighs through his nose. He leans back slightly, adjusting the blanket around you once more, and then lets his eyes fall closed. His hand doesn’t leave your back, fingers curling protectively.
The constant growing responsibility of leadership feels distant, a universe away from the profound peace of this moment. He lets his mind drift. Just a little. Because here, there’s no next mission to plan, no villains to chase, no training drills or brotherly chaos. Just you.
Your warmth. The way you unconsciously move closer every few minutes like you know, even in sleep, that he’s still holding you.
And he is.
He always will.
Maybe he hasn’t said it yet—not out loud, not in the way you deserve—but there’s a part of him that’s known for a while now. Maybe longer than he’s willing to admit, even to himself.
You’ve become home.
He opens his eyes and tilts his head a bit, just enough to glance down at your peaceful face again. There’s a quiet bravery in the way you love, in the way you’ve chosen this life alongside him and his brothers. Because there are days when the world feels too big, when the weight of it all digs into his shell. And you stay.
You always stay.
And he hasn’t told you, but Leo is so in love with you.
His grip on you tightens ever so slightly. He’ll say it soon. Maybe not tonight—maybe not even tomorrow—but it’s coming. He can feel the words building behind his ribs, pressing at the back of his throat like waves against a dam.
“I love you.” He mouths it silently, almost reverently.
Just to himself.
Just for now.
Because it’s enough to know. Enough to hold you and feel it pulsing quietly through every part of him.
Eventually, the movie ends, and the screen goes dark. Still, Leo doesn’t move. Doesn’t want to. Your fingers twitch again under the blanket, and this time, one of them brushes his wrist. Instinctively, his hand turns to meet yours, your fingers tangling. He gives a soft squeeze. You sigh in your sleep, the corners of your mouth tipping into the faintest smile.
Leo smiles too. And for the first time in what feels like forever, he lets himself rest. Not just physically, but fully. Completely. He continues to hold you, listening to your breathing. Feeling a fierce contentment that he knows he would fight until his last breath to protect.
And somewhere deep inside, he thinks:
Even if you never love me back, I will always keep you safe.