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Leonardo had always hated the sight of blood.
Everything from the sickening metallic stench, to the way it dried: how it caked itself under Leo’s nails and in the prints of his fingers, to maintain its unnerving presence far past the event of the injury, mocking him with its lingering.
But he despised blood all the more when it was you that it stained.
Leonardo was protective of you, constantly holding himself responsible for your wellbeing.
Ensuring that you always ate and drank your fill, that you slept regularly, and that you never got hurt.
So it wasn't surprising that Leo, after spotting a crimson mark blooming on your shirt, rushed to your side with reckless abandon of the raging battle before him.
You were tackling a foot ninja, and in the tussle their blade had run its course down your side. In truth, the scratch wasn’t nearly serious enough for its presence to overpower your coursing adrenaline, but to Leo… it was a very big deal.
He kicked the ninja off of you with cold swiftness, the force of the blow knocked them onto the wall, and they fell limp to the floor. Hot, you thought. He hoisted you up, steadying you with one arm as the other wielded one of his swords, warding off any adversaries who dared approach.
Raphael caught sight of the corner you and Leonardo had backed yourselves into, and distracted the ninjas surrounding you to allow an opening for escape.
Of course, this is Raphael, so obviously the “distraction” in question was a loveseat being thrown across the room.
While you were grateful for your friend’s assistance, you didn’t appreciate the blatant destruction of your property.
“Hey, Raphy-boy! Let’s keep the furniture-related violence to a minimum, please!”
Clobbering one of the few ninjas who had managed to dodge the seat, Raph snapped back at you between punches.
“Would you rather your apartment be trashed or you be dead?!”
You were about to object further, but as Leo swept you off your feet and held you close to his chest, words seemed to fail you. His chest rumbled against your body as he spoke.
“Just this once, I’d say Raph’s reasoning is solid."
You upturned your head to meet Leo’s, and he had to fight to keep his mask of stoicism intact. It was his fault for luring the foot to your apartment, and now he had to face your pathetic gaze as you helplessly watched your home get torn apart.
He was sloppy. Careless. He should’ve checked to see if he and his brothers were being followed…
But he didn’t. And now Leo had dragged his brothers and the love of his life into this mess.
The mess that was your apartment.
“Whadda’ waiting for, Leo?! You gotta get her outta here!”
Raph’s yelling brought Leonardo back to reality. Right. Now wasn’t the time for berating himself. He needed to help you, and fast. Leo gave his brother a silent nod, and promptly fled the building with his lover in tow.
Your senses were flooded: with the adrenaline waning, it was all you could do to focus on the sensations:
Leo was running--you were jostling in his grip--your wound was stinging, and somewhere along the way… You could feel yourself drifting from consciousness…
Leonardo successfully carried you back to the lair: there wasn’t a single soul following the two of you, he took great care in confirming such.
Finally allowing himself a breath of relief, Leo laid you on the couch.
Taking a step back to take note of your state, a grimace painted the blue ninja’s face.
The blot of blood had starkly increased in the time it took to bring you to safety; a sizable section of your shirt was thoroughly soaked with the fluid. The scent of your hair spray had been drowned out by the smell of bronze--Leo found himself mourning the floral aroma he so loved… Snap out of it!
“Focus, Leonardo…”
At the sound of Leo’s voice, laden with distress as he spoke to himself, you were jolted awake.
“What’s wrong…?”
You went to sit up, immediately wincing at the movement.
Leo knelt to the ground, and guided you back into a resting position.
“You’re bleeding, that’s what’s wrong.”
“I can feel that now.”
As you made more sounds of pain, Leo put on a facade of bravery for you: calmly tucking stray licks of hair behind your ear as you got comfortable.
A facade which you, of course, immediately saw past.
“Don’t dance around it. How bad is the damage?”
Leo grunted. Why does he even bother around you?
“Well, I haven’t gotten a chance to… Assess the wound, yet…”
Your brows knit together in confusion. Leo was usually so efficient in a crisis--one of his many traits which you admired--why was he so negligent to take action now, of all times?
You’d think he’d care more about your wellbeing--
Oh.
The injury was hidden by…
As the realization clicked, a gleeful mischief (which certainly wasn’t appropriate to the situation) willed a sly smile to cross your face. You maintained eye contact as you spoke your next words.
“It’s all right: all in the name of fixing me up, right?”
As you cooed, Leo dragged his hands down his banded face, exasperated beyond belief.
Then, as agonizingly slow as possible, you lifted the hem of your shirt over your head and dropped the bloodstained cloth to the floor.
Silence followed as Leo kept his eyes firmly glued on the red slash in the side of your abdomen.
“Is your view still obscured…?”
“I can see it fine now, thanks.”
“You’re sure you don’t need me to take off my bra, too?”
“NO!”
You snickered wildly at Leo’s frantic outburst, to which he heaved an irritated sigh.
You were going to be the death of him one day.
Probably today.
At that thought, Leo composed himself as best he could; this was not the time for… Whatever it is you always do.
“No… Just your shirt is fine, thank you.”
You kept smirking at Leo as he dug through his medkit, retrieving a cloth and soaking it in water.
“I’m going to clean it now, if that’s alright?”
“Sure.”
Leonardo lightly wiped the area surrounding the scratch, dissipating the blood, sending it trickling down your bare abdomen in branching streams.
Concentration hardened the features of Leo’s face as he meticulously plotted his strokes to avoid grazing your injury.
The corners of your lips curled up as you watched him.
“You make a perfect medic, Leonardo.”
Leo could feel himself reddening beneath his mask at your praise, and he felt like melting when you called him by his full name like that.
“What makes you say that?”
“Just… How caring you are.”
Leo mulled this over for a moment, and did not speak until after he had finished wiping all the blood away.
“I find that caring… isn’t a decision, but an instinct, you know?”
You were in the middle of putting together an equally wise response when he continued:
“At least, when it's about you, anyway.”
Now your injury wasn’t the only part of you that was crimson.
“I…”
He was rummaging through his first aid kit again, avoiding your tender gaze, which he was certain would set him aflame.
Whatever you were about to say would only ruin him all the more, but fortunately for him you were still searching for the words.
“Leo, I--MOTHER FUCKER!”
Leonardo had dabbed your wound with a new cloth--this time, drenched in disinfectant.
“Ah, sorry!”
“You could’ve given me a warning, first!”
“I thought it’d be better if I just got it over with--”
“I take it back. You’re a terrible medic.”
Finally, you had drawn a laugh out of Leo after what felt like ages of forced grievousness.
The sound of his laughter always reminded you of the deep blue of his mask, the very ocean itself:
a chasmic timbre with light bubbles that popped in the cracks of his voice--small hiccups which broke through the rumbling waves.
Leonardo met your eyes, and a strange expression crossed his face as he was met with the look of pure adoration you wore.
He could never understand why you liked him so much. It was part of the reason that he was awkward during intimate moments like these.
“Alright, get ready…”
As soon as the cloth met the gash, your hand reflexively reached for Leo’s free one.
You were gripping his palm so intensely that Leo would probably have to treat himself, too.
Yet, he made no effort to pull away from your grasp: Leonardo endured it, for your sake.
You fought back pained whimpers, ensuring they died in your throat.
But even so, Leo could still hear them, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
“You’re doing great.”
“Don’t patronize me…!”
Leo couldn’t help but titter at your adorable rage; which softened his resolve enough for him to decide against disinfecting the wound any further.
“I suppose that will do.”
As he withdrew the rag, you threw your head back and released a moan of utter relief. Leo stiffened at the sound: you could feel his hand jolt, which was entrapped by your own.
You hadn’t even realized your fingers were still intertwined until he made the abrupt movement.
“Leo.”
He forced himself to meet your fixed look, and held back shivers when you lazily trailed your nails up and down his forearm.
“...Yes?”
“I love you, too.”
He almost didn’t want to accept it: but the fiery determination in your eyes told him that, whether he believed he deserved it or not, you loved him.
You were inexplicably, irrevocably, madly in love with him.
In that moment, his composure was conquered by an untamable passion: he had to prove that he felt the same.
He had to prove that he loved you how you loved him--more than you, even.
Leo took hold of your hand, inciting a quiet gasp from you.
Taking his time to savor each touch, Leonardo planted gentle kisses on your hand, trailing up your arm with each brush of his lips.
You hitched your breath in anticipation when his kisses traveled past your collarbone and towards your neck.
Ever patient, Leo slowly gathered each strand of your hair in his path, tossing them aside to make way for his lips.
Each time he pressed them against your throat, a soft sigh escaped you.
As he retreated for air, his breath tickled your skin, warm and tremulous.
You just couldn’t take it any more:
unable to wait any longer, you tilted your head to face him and parted your lips, inviting him to finally release the tension which he had stretched taut with his chaste kisses.
You could hear Leo swallow his hesitation, and the next second you were flooded with warmth as your mouths met.
You cradled his face in your palms as he ran his fingers through your hair, each of you angling your heads to better taste the other.
At last satisfying yourselves enough to pull away, you stared into each other’s eyes as you both took hearty gulps of air.
You were the first to recover your breath.
“I’ve been dreaming of this moment since we first met.”
Leo smiled, his voice steeped in a playful sarcasm. You could almost catch the flavor of his words as he whispered against your mouth.
“Sorry to keep you waiting so long.”
You giggled, your tongue darting out to soothe your sore lips.
“You know, if I got this treatment for every injury, I might get grazed by more blades during future battles.”
Leo groaned, adopting that grave tone of urgency which always made you shudder.
“Don’t joke about that.”
The two of you leaned in to continue your kiss, when--
“Guys??? Whatcha… Doing there?”
A lifetime of training in ninjutsu, and Leonardo hadn’t heard his brothers and Master Splinter enter the room.
For once, he didn’t berate himself for his mistake. Rather, he chose to blame you.
You and your adorable face, always distracting him…
Your adorable face, which had now contorted into an expression of pure horror as you folded your arms over your chest, concealing your bra.
“HOW LONG HAVE YOU ALL BEEN HERE!?”
Raph and Mikey were too busy laughing their asses off to get any words out, and Splinter was standing in smug silence: It was Donnie who took pity on you and answered your question.
“Uhm… About when you first--”
“STARTED EATING EACH OTHER’S FACES!!!”
Mikey interjected, screaming wildly before devolving into incoherent cackles once more. Donnie groaned.
“Yeah. That part.”
Leo’s jaw hung agape in terror.
“D-did it really look like that?!”
Leo’s family chose to leave Leo’s comment hanging in the air, which only confirmed his fears.
Was he truly that bad a kisser?! Sure, Leo had never kissed anyone before, but he always figured it was more about intuition than practice.
Did he disappoint you? Oh, shell--that would be his worst nightmare!
But… By the way your face burned up when he tried to read you… He figured you enjoyed the experience.
Splinter cleared his throat, severing the connection between you and Leo.
You hadn’t even noticed, but Splinter had moved to the couch, an offering of fresh clothes in his paws.
You mumbled a quiet thanks and stretched the shirt over your head.
“My sons, why don’t you give her some privacy?”
Donnie nodded solemnly and trekked to his lab. Mikey and Raph snickered incessantly as they trailed back to their rooms.
Splinter glanced down at Leo, who was still knelt at your side, and quirked a fuzzy brow.
When his son made no motion to leave, Splinter shrugged: if Leonardo was this dedicated, there was no point in forcing him away from you.
“What is it, Master Splinter?”
There it was: the subtle defiance in his son’s voice. The tone which always emerged in Leonardo’s spats of passion. Though, the object of his passion was almost always of justice, honor, and the values of ninjutsu.
Leo never got this way…
About a person before.
“You truly love her, my son?”
Though it was his father that Leo was speaking to, it was your gaze that he held.
“With everything I have.”
Splinter smiled warmly, and began to walk away.
“Then I suggest you finish what you started, and bandage her up before she starts bleeding again.”
As Leo searched for the bandages, you turned to Splinter’s retreating form.
“Wait--aren’t you gonna ask if I love him, too?”
Splinter chuckled and waved dismissively.
“I could see it in your eyes the moment they first met his.”