Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles.

Pairing: Raphael/Leonardo

You'd never know it from the way he acts when anyone else is around. In a fight or amongst family, he's still the fearless leader, favorite son, honorable and disciplined to a fault.

I shatter all of that when we're alone.

I know he feels me watching him all the time. The feeling only intensifies when everyone else leaves. He doesn't bother to make up excuses to go with them, doesn't hide behind the meditation excuses. He doesn't even try to practice in the dojo. He doesn't try to fight me. We both know I've already won.

By the time I step beside him on the bridge in the center of the lair, he's trembling. His grip tightens on the railing as I touch him, leaning up against his body. His breath hitches and I hear those sounds, those wonderful little noises from the back of his throat that mean he's lost.

Lost to me. Shredder, Karai, all the fights he's ever been in, no one ever broke him. But one late night and he was mine. I love reminding him of that.

You'd think he'd take the mask off. It makes such a convenient handle when I grab it and force his head to one side. My teeth graze his skin gently at first, then hard. I wouldn't leave a mark, I wouldn't humiliate him, but he winces and loses his grip. It's the only opening I need to force him down to his knees.

He lets me do anything. I haven't pushed as far as I could, as far as I've taken this in my imagination. Every night I push a little farther, drive him a little harder. I own him. And he never says no.