Beautiful Hopeful

Warnings: Hints at turtlecest, slash, gay, incest.
Pairings: Leo/Don.


They aren't supposed to bother him, when he works.

Because he gets grumpy then. A grumpy Donatello is rare, only seen late at night or early morning, when no one else is awake.
Or, perhaps, if there is no coffee left to drink. But he is rare, and they are actually pretty glad about that.
Because grumpy Donatello isn't very nice, and none of them are used to hearing their genius go from soft words to sharp ones.
Because in his case, Donatello's bark is truly worse than his bites.

But Leonardo is doing it. Bothering him, now, when he works.

When he is busy.

Donatello's shoulders are tense; his muscles have slowly turned into bricks for every second which Leonardo did not leave.
And Leonardo stares. Because that's what he does, really.
Stare, stare, stare. Sitting on the desk, out of the way only not.
He bothers Donatello, and Raphael and Michelangelo knows it. That's why they have retreated to the TV, turned up the volume.
That's why Splinter has returned to his own room, tea and candles keeping him company.

It's still kind of silent, though. In a weird way.
Everyone are trying to listen, even as they try to turn deaf.

"... Don," Leonardo says then. No one hears it.
No one but Donatello, but that's the point. Donatello hears it.
Donatello, so very, very slowly, turns around. Stares. His eyes are dark.

They are also very beautiful.

Leonardo says that. Words smoothly sliding past lips, and the dark eyes widen. Turns confused and shocked and a little suspicious.
But not angry, not anymore, and Leonardo smiles a little.

"... What?" Donatello says blankly.

"You're beautiful," Leonardo says. Softly. Leans a little closer, shifting upon the desk.

Donatello looks a little freaked out.
A little... hopeful, and it makes the smile on Leonardo's face widen.

"Leo? Did you eat something?" Donatello asks, almost but not quite timid, and Leonardo shakes his head.

"No. You're just beautiful. That's all."

They stare at each other. Donatello seems to have trouble breathing, and his cheeks are turning dark and warm.
He doesn't appear to know if he should smile or frown.

Then the moment is broken; Leonardo slips off the desk, pats Donatello's shoulder. Keeps smiling.

"That's all," he repeats, and then he walks away.

Donatello stares at the wall. Slowly blinks.
And then, he ducks his head and stares at his hands.

The blush deepens, burns him, and a small, shy smile quirks his lips.