No time to catch his breath. He pushed himself back up and changed direction, putting as much distance between himself and his crazy ass brother as possible. Worse, he knew Leonardo was a skilled tracker. Leo could follow ninjas across New York on a stormy day. What he wouldn't give for rain...

Several minutes later he came to a stop, resting against a tall oak and panting for breath. He groaned and looked up, but between the orange and red leaves lay nothing but blue sky. There would be no rain to help wash away his trail. Leonardo would have a clear shot right for him.

Stupid stupid stupid! Raphael would've slammed his head against the tree but figured he'd be in pain soon enough. He'd assumed his pliant--hell, his submissive sibling could have no kinks. Nothing besides having control wrested from him, anyway. He'd never suspected anything like a knife fetish, which raised some very disturbing questions about Leonardo's obscene amount of practice.

He couldn't help a tired grin. Maybe obscene was the right word. And what about the duels and swordfights with their endless enemies?

A twig snapped behind him.

He whirled. Nothing, but he knew better than to assume that was a good thing. Back on his guard, he strained to hear the smallest sound, the rustle of leaves without wind or a hissed breath. The forest was silent. No birds singing, even the wind seemed to have died away. He turned and turned, trying to find a hint of blue or a knife's glint between the tall underbrush.

This is how mice feel, he thought, when there's no where else to go and the cat's right behind--

"Found you."

The whisper in his ear made him yell and turn too fast. His feet slipped on damp leaves as Leonardo pushed him from one side and he toppled backwards, landing hard on his shell. A second later he grunted as Leonardo dropped on top of him, his knees pinning Raphael's arms to his sides. For a moment Raphael struggled to buck him off, writhing beneath his sibling as his fingers scrabbled in the dirt trying to find some kind of purchase. He only gave up when Leonardo leaned over him, resting his arms on his chest and staring into Raphael's eyes.

"Honestly, Raph," Leonardo said softly. "Crashing through every bush and bramble in your way? You should've just painted big arrows for me to follow."

"Not my fault," Raphael grumbled, finally lying still. Tired and frustrated, there was no way he could throw Leo off right now. "Finding out my brother gets off on cutting people kinda freaked me out."

Raphael's teeth clicked shut as he watched Leonardo reach into his belt and draw the knife. Nowhere near as intimidating as his brother's swords, the smaller knife nevertheless gave him chills. Having it so close to his face made it feel even more threatening. The way the flat of the blade pressed under his jaw and gently tilted his head up felt more intimate than anything he'd ever done to Leonardo.

"'Freaked out'? A little weird coming from the guy who covered me in bites."

Not daring to breathe, Raphael waited for the knife to glide down his throat and along his shell before he felt safe enough to talk. "What, you wanted to even the score a bit?"

With a small shake of his head, Leonardo leaned closer and held the tip of the knife to Raphael's skin, carefully choosing a small spot he could see from this angle but wouldn't be too visible otherwise. Selecting a spot close to Raphael's shell, he adjusted himself for a better position and dug his knees into his brother's arms when he struggled again.

"Don't move," he warned. "If I mess up, I'll start over somewhere else."

"'Mess up'?" Raphael narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Tell you what," Leonardo said, ignoring Raphael's question. "I'll give you a choice. Romanji or katakana?"

Raphael blinked. Romanji? What the hell was--oh wait, he recalled Splinter sometimes called Western writing that. So Leo wanted to write on him. But why katakana, usually reserved for foreign words, when he could use hiragana or kanji? He groaned in realization.

"You're gonna carve your name inta me?" He would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't so concerned about the coming pain. "That's so damn cliché."

Leonardo narrowed his eyes. "I've always wanted to carve one of my 'lectures' into you. Maybe the one about not going out alone all night."

"Your name's fine," Raphael said quickly.

"So choose. Romanji or katakana." Leonardo tapped the knife against his brother's shell as he thought. "Romanji would look nice, but cutting an exact curve can be tricky--"

"Katakana," Raphael said, looking away towards the trees, the sky, anything but his brother. "Less letters, too. Y'know, I've always liked your nickname best."

When he didn't hear an answer, he glanced back at Leonardo. His brother had the same focused look he got whenever he trained, intent on his goal. Raphael swallowed once and closed his eyes, and he had the strange hope that his brother didn't make the first characters too big that he'd have to scrunch the last one in.

The knife tip sank into his skin. It couldn't have gone very deep but Raphael hissed and tried not to shy away for fear he would make it worse. Leonardo held still for a moment, waiting for Raphael to resign himself. In a way he knew Raphael's surrender would be harder than his own. At least Raphael gave him time to adjust and accept defeat. Leonardo demanded nothing less than complete and immediate capitulation. Of course Raphael didn't have to suffer half an hour of unrelieved pain before he surrendered, either.

Within a few seconds, Raphael turned his head aside a few inches, giving Leonardo easier access. The knife began moving again, making one straight line close to his brother's neck. He brought up the knife just long enough to sink it in again. For the curved end of the 'ri' character, he brought the knife up as he finished, giving it a calligraphic finish. Raphael couldn't stop a small noise in the back of his throat.

"One down," Leonardo said. "I'll give you a minute before I do the next one."

That thought didn't help. His shoulder burned and throbbed and the skin around the cuts had already turned extremely sensitive. Maybe Leo might've been able to try to focus on something other than pain, but Raphael couldn't help but experience bodily sensations fully. Sensuality came naturally to him. Blocking out pain was just as impossible as blocking out pleasure.

Raphael glanced out of the corner of his eye at him. Maybe he could at least distract himself. Leonardo perching on top of him like a wildcat after pouncing was certainly distracting. Leo looked so satisfied that playing with his prey seemed natural.

"How long've you been like this?" Raphael whispered.

"Like what?"

"Getting off on knives and swords and cutting things. Do you..." His voice trailed off. It was almost dishonorable to even suggest it, but the curiosity was too much. "When you kill ninjas, do you like it?"

To his relief, Leonardo shook his head once.

"Death doesn't excite me," Leonardo said. He crossed his arms on top of Raphael's chest, lounging comfortably as if he didn't hold a knife an inch from his throat. "And in a fight, I'm too busy to notice much about how the blood looks. I only get that during practice."

"Get what?"

Leonardo hesitated as he thought about how to answer. "I'm not sure. I don't really 'get off' on it. It's just fascinating the way blood falls on a polished sword."

Knowing it was a poor substitute but needing another way to explain, Leonardo held the knife up to give Raphael a better look. He smiled as his brother flinched.

"Relax, I wouldn't cut your face."

"I'm not so sure right now," Raphael said but he didn't argue further.

Instead he stared at the knife. Better polished than regular steel, it didn't reflect him like a mirror but he did see himself as a blur. And smeared at the tip, his blood gathered in a precarious drop.

"My swords are a little better for this," Leonardo admitted. "But it's the same thing. You can see yourself, even if the image is indistinct. And then the blood is so clear..."

He tipped the knife very slightly blade up, letting the drop of blood run along the edge. The red streak stood out against the blurry image like a hyper-defined banner.

"I don't know why it fascinates me," Leonardo murmured. "It just does. The feel of cold metal, the way it feels like ice when it cuts and then fire as it bleeds."

His hand brushed the small cuts he'd made. "And the way you can't really hide the pain."

The whimper that escaped Raphael surprised both of them. Leonardo's eyes widened slightly and his breath hitched, but Raphael stared up in near-shock. He'd taken some harsh beatings in his life. How did a handful of small cuts rob him of his control so quickly?

Losing himself again in his focus, Leonardo leaned close again. Raphael tensed up in anticipation, then forced himself to relax before the blade sank back into his skin. The 'o' character took three strokes, not including the tiny flourish.

This time Raphael couldn't help writhing beneath his brother. He didn't try to throw him off, but he wasn't used to enduring such methodic torture. His arms were pinned too tight to move and he couldn't turn his head, so he settled for digging his heels into the dirt and kicking up leaves. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this was no different from what he'd done to Leonardo, immobilizing him and drawing every drop of blood with painful deliberation.

He had no idea how his brother had held out for so long. With the last cut, he cried out between shaky breaths. The soft lapping of blood as Leonardo licked away each drop masked the pain with a little pleasure. Somehow that made it worse.

"Halfway through," Leonardo whispered, nuzzling his throat. "But it looks like you're done for now."

Not answering, Raphael stayed silent and just watched his brother climb off and sit down against a tree. But the knife did not go back in the sheathe and Raphael knew better than to hope this was over. He rolled onto his front and pushed himself to his knees, head lowered in exhaustion as he caught his breath. The cuts had taken more out of him than running. After a few moments when he could breathe somewhat normally again, the silence from his brother made him look up.

"Now what?" he asked.

Leonardo half-smiled. "You're tired. Maybe sixty this time?"

Raphael frowned. "Sixty?"

Leonardo's smile grew a little wider as he ran his finger along the edge of the knife. "Fifty-nine..."

tbc...