Work Text:
Leo had known you so long that sometimes it took a moment to recall when you’d first met. Since he was 17, he thinks? He’s 28 now and that feels like ages ago- so long he can hardly remember a time without you. You’d been there for his first drink, doing shots of tequila and collapsing in the bathroom with him when the two of you could no longer function. You’d been there when he’d had to break up with his first girlfriend, giving soothing words of reassurance and forcing him off the couch when he’d been moping too long. You had been there when he’d gotten hit so hard in a fight that his collar bone had broken in two places, arm in a sling for what seemed like forever and your name written in sharpie on his cast.
You had been there when he was the one being broken up with- another girl who’d taken a little part of him and not been able to handle what she’d been given, not been able to withstand the life he lived. He’d smiled through angry tears when you had vowed revenge, when you had insisted his now ex was “the dumbest bitch alive.”
He had been there for you, too. When some asshole of a man had broken your heart. When the two of you had only been able to text for a full year while you studied abroad. When you had gotten your first “big girl” job and had dragged him out to celebrate.
You're always around, integrated into his family with the same ease as April. And yeah, his brothers definitely see you as a sister. Leo never has though. Not once. Not since the first time he saw your pretty face, not since the moment he laid eyes on the curve of your backside, on the flex of your calves, on the swell of your breasts. Not since the first time you'd made him laugh, throwing his head back at whatever ridiculous joke you’d told. Not since he's started texting you so often that it was near daily- never really feeling right unless he’d ended his day with a goodnight to you.
It never lined up. You always seemed to have a boyfriend when he was single, and the same went for him when you were free and available. You both danced constantly on the edges of impropriety, both of your myriad of significant others having commented on the close relationship the two of you had, oftentimes expressing feelings of jealousy. But you were a part of the package, and with the exit of his last girlfriend over three years ago, Leo had pursued little more than the occasional casual hook up.
He was waiting for you.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was a recipe for heartbreak. But in the last year you’d both been single, and you had both avoided a relationship with anyone else.
Perhaps you were waiting for him, too.
Mikey had asked him once, in front of you no less, why he wasn’t dating. Leo had met your eyes across the dinner table and said as casually as he could muster, “Just waiting on the right person.”
The hang outs had increased, the texts multiplied, the flirting went unbroken. Somewhere in the last few months there had been a tone shift. The air between the two of you seemed charged, the glances you exchanged knowing, the words you whispered weighted. If Leo was honest with himself, the two of you were already dating, without ever really having made it official. You’d both text each other constantly. You were the de facto date when there was a party or event. You hung out all the time, most of it spent in your apartment- cuddled up on your couch as the two of you watched a movie and napped.
You held hands. You gave light little touches. And you both flirted with abandon, each of you seeming to have a personal agenda to outdo the other.
There had been an occasion in the last month where the two of you had even laid together on the couch, bodies aligned, legs entwined, your face pressed into his neck, and your lips trailing over the column of his neck. Leo had held you close, hands trailing over your back, fingers brushing along the cleft of your jean clad ass before grabbing it tightly and pushing your hips against his own. You’d given a little gasp, and he’d been able to smell the sweet scent the action seemed to cause. You’d been interrupted by the ringing of his phone and the panicked voice of Raphael, and he’d had to leave your quivering form there on the couch to help deal with a situation involving Repo Mantis and a demon possessed cadillac.
It was just a matter of time. Just an inevitable wait as you both took a closer step to the brink.
Leo wondered how long you’d loved him. He’d loved you as long as he’d known you. He was pretty sure that you were the reason none of those previous relationships had ever worked out. He wondered when you’d realized you had feelings for him, if for all these years you had felt the same way he had, every time you had dated someone new who wasn't him.
He’d been such a stupid kid. If he could go back, it would be to smack the absolute hell out of his young self for not making a move on you sooner. For being such a spineless excuse of a turtle. Things happen the way they are meant to, though. Perhaps it was always meant to align for the two of you when he was older, better able to recognize his emotions. Certainly now he could please you better than he ever would have been able to in his youth. Age had brought experience. Age had brought wisdom and patience and the kind of confidence he’d always pretended to have.
Age had brought resolve.
“Where you off to Leo?”
Leo pulls on his snow boots- knowing he’ll be outside long enough to need them and hating the way the winter's air makes every part of him feel constantly frozen. Spring needed to come, and with it the thawing of his every bone.
“Hanging out with Pretty Girl,” he replies to Raphael, using the nickname he’s had for you since you were a teenager. Leo does not miss the way his father and all his brother's eyes zero in on him, how they all seem to hold their own thinly veiled opinions.
“This is the third time this week!” Raphael exclaims.
Leo shrugs, kneeling to lace up the boots.
From where he sat at the kitchen table, along with the rest of his brothers, Splinter’s eyes narrowed. He murmurs your name, and Leo catches the way Donnie’s thickly sketched brows raise at his father- as though they’d already run through a private conversation that Leo has not been privy to.
“When are you going to date that girl, Blue? I am tired of waiting around for one of my sons to settle down.”
Leo shoots a look from his bent position. “Donnie is engaged to Violet!” He says with a snort, moving to the next boots laces.
Splinter is muttering as he hops down from his seat and busies himself making tea, his grievances very clearly interpreted. Leo hears words like “old man" and “grandchildren” thrown into his fathers string of complaints.
Leo straightens himself and leans on the table, his own gaze narrowing in on his genius twin.
“I bet one of us could really make dad’s night.”
Donnie’s eyes glare up at him from his seated position, ignoring the way Raphael begins to choke.
“Leo I swear to Galileo-”
“Ohhh, is that the name you guys settled on?”
Mikey is patting Raphael’s shoulder now, hiding a hand over his mouth to cover a laugh.
“Leo,” Donatello hisses up at him, eyes panicked.
“Don-Tron, Doesn’t Violet think you already told him?”
“Leo I’ll murder you.”
“Maybe I should portal her over? I bet you guys could have a nice family night…”
Donatello seethes, his cheeks going a muddy shade of red. “How did you know?’ He snaps quietly, and Leo can see the way his anger is just barely masking worry.
“You’re bad at secrets, brother-of-mine. The rat is the only one who doesn’t know. Also, if you want to hide something,” Leo murmurs in return, aware that though his father is old he is not deaf, “you probably shouldn’t leave the evidence lying out on the bathroom sink. Also, a nun , Donnie? Violet chose a nun as her halloween costume this year and you thought I wouldn’t pick up on the joke?”
Donatello’s responding groan is cut off.
“What are you two whispering about? And Leo is right, where is Violet? I have not seen her at all this week!”
With a cock of his head and knowing raise of his brow ridge Leo pushes his hip off the corner of the table and gives a wave of goodbye.
“Night Pop’s! Night Broski’s. Night Dad!”
At this, Raphael’s choking begins anew, and Michelangelo has nearly disappeared in the way he has slinked down in his chair.
Donnie looks frantic, but Leo hears him, as he steps through his now glowing portal say, “Uh… Y-yeah, about that Dad…”
Leo chuckles and disappears.
It’s late when he gets home, and Leo thinks that tonight had probably been the closest that the two of you had come to kissing.
You’d walked through the snow strewn paths in Central Park, Leo portaling the two of you around to different areas- to watch kids sledding down steep hills with their parents and friends, to Delacorte Clock to have a hot chocolate and listen to its chiming songs as though you were both tourists. To the children’s zoo, where Leo had laughed as he’d watched a goat follow you around the pen, and refused to portal it to your apartment when you’d asked (though the pleading doe eyes had nearly worked).
Then he’d held your hand, walking down the paths strung with Christmas lights, talking to you softly, thumb brushing your gloved knuckles.
There had been a moment, when your voices had gone low, the two of your breaths clinging in the air long enough to mingle, that you had searched his eyes and pressed yourself close, and he had given you a crooked little grin and leaned down.
Carolers. It was always something, it seemed, that interrupted the two of you, and Leo could only give a little laugh and a shake of his head as a group of carolers seemed to materialize out of nowhere- voices belting out a spirited rendition of You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch (and of course it would be that mood killer of a song and not something vaguely sweet).
Leo had laughed more when you’d growled over his shoulder at them, taking you at the waist and pulling you in ridiculous circles, making his voice pitch to the lows and highs the song demanded, blowing a raspberry into the crook of your neck until you scream-laughed and slapped at his shoulders.
He’d left you at your apartment with a low bow, like you were the queen he’d just escorted through the park, and when you had invited him up he’d given you a little grin and a shake of his head- promising to see you tomorrow when your face had fallen in disappointment.
Pushing through the abandoned subway turnstiles, Leo finds that his brothers and fathers have all collapsed in the living room in a pile, hastily made confetti scattered on the floor and a congratulations banner hanging lopsided above their sleeping forms, empty bottles of champagne crowded around them. Leo sees Donnie’s head lift and look blearily into the darkness.
“How’d it go Don?” He calls in a stage whisper.
His brother gave an intelligible mumble, shooting a thumbs up into the air before his head collapse’s back onto Raphael’s splayed arm, pushing Draxum’s hoof away from his face in disgust.
Leo chuckles, taking time to change into warm pajamas and brush his teeth before slipping into his own bed, glad to have a space heater to warm him even more on these cold winter nights- his end of the subway cab offering little insulation.
Just before he can hit send on a text wishing you goodnight, one of your own barrels through.
You: I miss you
Leon smiles down at his phone, his heart doing a little staccato under his plastron.
Leo: I was just thinking the same thing
You: Why didn’t u stay? 😣
Leo sigh’s, the sound loud in the quiet of his room.
Leo: Because I have a plan
You: …
You: …
You: what does that mean?
Leo: it means that I have a plan. 🤷
You: I stg Leon if you’ve made me wait this long because you have some romantic thing planned out I’ll kill you. 😡
Leo: …
You: OMG
Leo: Listen. this plan cost me money. gotta go thru with the plan.
You: LEONARDO
You: I’m going to fucking smother you
Leo: Lies.You’ll love it!
You: Leo, what was wrong with tonight???
You: TONIGHT was romantic!!
You: I’m DYING over here.
You’d probably call him sadistic if you could hear his high, happy little chirp.
And maybe you knew him well enough to know that's his reaction, because before he could respond you’d sent him a picture.
It isn't particularly risque, you’re partially buried under a comforter and in a christmas pajama set that has little santa hats all over it. But your face is visible, and so are your lips.
You’re biting them.
Leo: Who’s killing who again?
You: lol HOW?
Leo: Absolutely no reason to bite that lip
You take a while to respond, and in the interim Leo wonders if he should send you a photo. It was only fair…
He turns on his bedside lamp, kicking off the covers and pushing up his shirt. The picture he sends you is similar to the one you sent. It shows his chest, one hand splayed over his half bare lower abdomen, and his chin and mouth. He makes sure to also bite his lower lip.
You: Yeah ok, fair point. Biting the lip was a bit much.
Leo: I promise you im not complaining.
You: I miss you
Leo: know what pretty girl? I’m starting to think that I miss you actually means something else.
You: …
You: maybe 👀
Leo: What if I had gone up with you tonight. You don’t think you’d be “missing” me right now?
You: Definitely not.
Leo: Yeah? What would we be doing?
His heart rate has picked up, his thighs flexing. Leo lets his hand run up and down his plastron while he waits for you to respond, watching the three dots that indicate you are typing appear and disappear.
You: Reading the bible?
Leo smirks, knowing you had chickened out of whatever lewd response you had thought about sending. That’s okay though- you’ve still set him up perfectly.
Leo: Is that why you’d be screaming oh god?
He sends it before he can stop himself, deciding that some less than subtle teasing was most definitely in order.
It takes less than ten seconds after it is sent before you’re calling him.
“Who’s killing who now Leon?” you ask, voice both breathless and perturbed.
“Too far?”
“When I’m not there, yes.”
“Hmmm. What do we do about that?”
Your voice is lower than a whisper when you respond, “I don’t know.”
“Tell me and I’ll do it.”
“So you’ll portal here?”
“Eeeeh, no, not that. I think, for now, we should just have a conversation.”
“ Leeeooooo ,” You whine into his ear, and his smile is wide enough that it hurts. “A conversation ?”
Leo murmurs your name, and he hears your breath tremble.
“Tell me what you want me to do, pretty girl.”
There is a beat of silence, your breath getting heavy, before you say, “I-I don’t think I can… please I need you to just…”
Leo thinks that if it were possible he could feel the heat of your blush warming his own cheek through the phone.
“I’ve never known you to be shy.”
“Leon, please. I can't…”
“Then I guess we should just wait for this weekend, huh?”
“You’re a fucking tease,” you complain, and Leo cannot stifle his chuckle.
“Someone sounds frustrated.”
“Tease.”
Leo is moved by both your desperation and your distress, by your voice that almost sounds ashamed. After all, he isn’t shy.
“Do me a favor,” he murmurs, and he does not miss the way your breath catches in your throat.
“Go ahead and get undressed for me,” he says, voice a low rumble.
“ Seriously? ”
Leonardo can hear the hopefulness in your tone.
“Seriously,” he replies simply.
He can hear you undress, the way the bed shifts quickly, the sound of your covers being kicked away and the subtle stretch of elastic.
“D-done.”
“Yeah? Not too cold are you?”
He hears you hum then say, “Will you come warm me up if I say yes?”
Leo expels a little laugh through his nose.
“You know, this weekend you and I are going to do all this in person. So you’ve only got one more day to wait.”
You groan your annoyance. “If I had known you were a tease I’d have never bothered getting a crush on you.”
Leo can’t help but smile and roll his eyes.
“I’m the tease? Remember a couple months ago, at halloween?”
Your voice is overly innocent when you reply, “ Hmmm ? What about it?”
“A bunny? Never in my life have I seen you dress as something that isn’t blood and gore. And this year you just decided to be a bunny?”
You snort your laughter, and Leo finds his eyes rolling again.
“Glad to know it worked,” you tittered. “I’ll have to tell Violet she was right.”
“The two of you are terrible people.”
“Or are you just too slow to make a move?”
“You’re doing a lot of talking for a naked person,” Leo jokes, lips pursed.
“You should probably come over and make sure I’m naked,” you counter. “Apparently I’m a terrible person. Maybe I lied?”
“You know, this weekend I expect an apology.”
“Hell no. We could be having fun now, but you’re a masochist so we’re waiting for some reason.”
“I’m a romantic, so we’re waiting,” Leo corrects. “And who says this isn’t fun?”
“If you knew how crazy I was going over here, you wouldn’t even say that.”
The smile Leo has now does not reach his eyes. Instead it’s predatory, and his pupils dilate so wide that the green of his irises are barely visible.
“Yeah babe? You’re going crazy?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what that voice does to me.”
“Hmm, that’s true. I bet you’ve been soaked all night.”
“Leo!”
“I bet if I put my fingers between your legs right now I could slide them right into you. I bet you’re fucking leaking all over your sheets, aren’t you baby?”
Your breath has hitched, a stuttering gasp issuing at his words, and Leo can hear the moment your own fingers find your center, hears the faint sound of the slick that has pooled here, hears your whimper into the silence of your room.
“That’s it pretty girl,” he coaxes, snaking a hand between his legs and releasing his cock, which is on its way to being fully hardened just from the sound of your trembling breaths.
“What if… what if you went through all this trouble to have some romantic plan, and it all backfires?”
“How so?” he asks, letting his hand firmly stroke the length of his shaft.
“I don’t know. What if I already had plans? What if I start my period? What if we get a blizzard and can’t leave the city?”
He can’t help but chuckle at your breathless words.
“You’re talking a little too well over there for someone who’s supposed to be touching themselves.”
“I have valid points.”
“Mmhmm, sure. Keep those fingers between your legs moving and I’ll ease your worries over my planning abilities.”
He hears your little puff of laughter amidst the slick sounds your fingers make, and adds pressure to the tip of his member, cock swollen and fully hard now.
“First off, I know you don’t have plans because I’ve been telling you we’re hanging out this weekend for a month now.”
“You said we’re doing a gift exchange!”
“Yes, I lied. Second. Do I seriously strike you as the kind of guy who gives a shit if you’re on your period?”
“Well I’m not but- …Wait, really?”
Leo makes a face at his ceiling, eyes narrowing in offense.
“Yes, really.”
“Well I don’t know!! That’s… I dunno, messy?”
His breath hitches a little, his knees spreading.
“You think I care about a mess? You think if it’s too much I can’t just throw down a towel? Or fuck you in the shower?”
“Leo…”
“You think I won’t still go down on you? You think I’m squeamish about some blood?”
“Leo!”
“And third point- I’m already going to portal us where we’re going, blizzard or not.” There might have been a threat of laughter in his voice at the suggestion that the two of you could get snowed in, but he’s so turned on that he can’t think straight. Not with the way you’d just said his name. Not with the sounds you were making.
“Keep those fingers moving baby, nice and steady until you get my tongue this weekend.”
You’re gasping into his ear and for a moment he forgets he’s supposed to be coaching you to an orgasm, his fist pumping and his hips rocking.
“God pretty girl,” he groans, letting himself get lost in the moment- for a moment. “I can’t wait until you’re mine.”
“I am,” you say softly, and Leo thinks he can hear the way your heels dig into your mattress. “I’ve been yours since we were kids. You have to know that.”
That desire to time travel and smack the living hell out of younger Leon is back.
“I know now,” he tells you instead. “It took a while, but I know now.”
Your breaths get harsher, louder in his ear. “Please, please, please,” you chant. “I want you here so bad.”
“Baby I’m gonna take such good care of you. You know that right? You know I’m gonna take care of you.”
So much for dirty talk. The two of you just warble back and forth to one another now, moans and blabbered words that dissolve into pleas for release.
Leo is able to pull himself together enough though, that when you gasp sharply he has the cognizance to growl, “Hold your breath! Hold your breath baby, it’ll be better.”
You do, a pitchy whine escaping from the back of your throat.
“That’s it, pretty girl. God, you sound so good in my ear. You did such a good job. … oh.”
You’re breathing harshly again, clearly coming down as he finally comes apart, holding his own breath, spilling over his fist.
“Leo,” you finally pant, your voice breaking through the ringing in his ears. “If you made me wait just for a trip to a hotel, I will actually murder you.”
You’re not going to murder him, but you’d been right.
Sort of.
Friday comes and goes, and though Leo promised the two of you would hang out, it ends up being in the lair surrounded by his family, all of whom are still keen on celebrating, and you get exactly zero chances to corner him alone. When the night ends, it’s Mikey who portals you home, and Leo gives an infuriating chuckle when you glare over your shoulder at him, the portal closing on his wide grin.
The asshole.
Absence makes the heart grow more murderous, and by Saturday afternoon you’re ready to fix your hands around his neck and squeeze the life out of him.
But it’s hard to stay mad at a man who bends down to place a kiss on your cheek as he shoulders your duffle bag you’d packed for the next two nights- not really sure what you needed but figuring the basics would be good enough.
It’s cold where he portals you, the two of you surrounded by mountains and snow and a tree lined road.
“Oh god, are you taking me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me?”
You see Leon’s eyes crinkle down at you, his face covered now by a thick scarf.
“You don’t know where we are?” He asks, voice muffled.
“Uh… upstate?”
“Not exactly.”
You follow him in the snow, moving aside for a passing truck, thinking too late about checking the license plate to see where exactly you are.
Not that the dots don’t start to connect. You see the sign, after all, welcoming you to Paradise Stream, and the building that boasts a little gift shop just before the private rooms come into view.
You can’t help but gasp.
“Are we in the Poconos?!”
Leo pulls down his scarf now so that you can see his full grin.
“Shut the fuck up!” you exclaim with a laugh, seeing the excitement dance in his eyes.
“I already checked us in, we’re in that one.”
He points off into the distance, to the last building in the compound, and your eyes go wide.
“That’s the biggest one!”
“Champagne Tower baby!”
He portals the two of you across the parking lot to the front door- obviously having wanted you to see the sign and realize just where you were. You do a little dance on each foot as he pulls out the key and opens the door.
“Holy shit!”
You don’t live in New York and not hear about the Poconos. It’s a common retreat, close enough for a romantic weekend getaway and nice enough to actually be relaxing. No amount of hearing about it could have really prepared you, though.
The main attraction is front and center, the Champagne Tower- a literal whirlpool tub shaped like a champagne glass. Leo drops your bags on the floor and slips over to the already roaring fireplace- something he’d clearly started before he’d come and retrieved you- and it is obvious that he is seeking to warm up his cold blooded body while you have a look around.
There's a private heart shaped pool, a round king sized bed strewn with red rose petals and a starlight ceiling, and around the corner there's a sauna with two adirondack chairs sat inside. The shower could fit a dozen people, the plush massage chairs beckon your shoulders, and tealight candles scatter the whole expanse.
You hear a pop back in the living area, and you wander back to Leo, who has removed his winter attire and stands waiting for you, maskless so that the red markings on his face are on full display. He is bare foot, in a loose gray hoodie, and black jeans.
He offers you a glass of champagne, and your heart feels like it might beat right out of your chest.
He’s too damn handsome.
“Okay… okay, this is really nice,” you concede, accepting the glass and feeling suddenly nervous.
“I need you to know that it is completely unnecessary though. Like, I’d have been happy with- oh yeah, thanks,” you take the chocolate covered strawberry he offers you, his eyes alight with mischief, his smile an upturned little smirk.
“Like, you could have just, I dunno, told me how you felt years ago, and-and-and I’d have been over the moon, Leo. You could have made me a grilled cheese and taken me to a movie and, oh th-thanks.”
You watch as he takes your glass, setting it aside and pulling off your winter gloves. You shove the strawberry into your mouth when it becomes a hindrance, and Leo snorts when you throw the stem into the fire behind him. Then he helps you slip off your winter jacket and scarf, laying them over the back of the love seat that sits before the fire.
He hands you back the glass, and you swallow it down in one large gulp, cheeks going warm under his gaze. You hand the now empty flute back to him, and he takes it with a soft chuckle and sets it on the mantel. You lose your breath entirely when he goes to his knees before you, unzipping your snow boots and nudging you out of them, your socks following.
“A-anyway… I’d still… ya know… like you, if you hadn’t done all this,” you end with a lame gesture to the room that surrounds you, not really even sure what point you’d been trying to make any longer. Not when he looks up at you like that, his eyes a mixture of humor and heat. Not when he just watches you stumble over your words, not bothering to get back to his feet- instead resting his chin on your already weak knees and looking up at you expectantly.
What he was expecting from you though, you weren’t sure.
“I…I just want you… you know?”
Leo sigh’s, a sound that falls somewhere between content and understanding. Then his large hands are making their way up your calves, and you feel the way your knees knock together when they shake. You don’t have to look far to see a mirror that shows you exactly how red your face has turned.
“Leo, say something,” you finally sputter down to him, wishing you could borrow some of his apparently endless confidence.
“Hmm,” he gives you that little sigh of a hum, again looking for all the world like a man who had never been more content, more happy.
“I love you,” Leo whispers, voice clear and resolute.
Your brain forgets everything it’s ever known. Math? A mystery. American history? History. The ability to speak coherently? To breathe, even?
To think?
It’s like the whole world stops and then speeds up, and you're left dizzy in the catastrophe of it all, gasping to catch up, to process this new normal.
You aren’t sure how you ended up on your knees, the two of you falling as one in front of the fireplace, your lips finally, finally, crashing together in desperation that reflects the years of waiting and wanting.
Someone is saying “I love you, I love you, I love you,” over and over between kisses, and with a jolt you realize it is you.
But when you part and look at him, it is Leo who has tears in his eyes. He’s the one who breaks, who seemingly can’t hold back a soft sob when you reach up and wipe at his cheeks.
“I’m sorry I waited so long,” he hitches, hugging you to him tightly, hiding his face in your neck, his legs entwining with your own. “I should have done this years ago.”
You’re shaking your head in disagreement (even though you agree), cheek knocking into the side of his head. “I could have made the first move… Shhh, it’s alright. We’re both stupid, okay?”
You feel the shaky laugh in the crook of your neck, and when he sits up, looking down at your body laid before him, it’s to rub his hands almost violently over his face, chasing away any lingering tears.
“Sorry, that… that came out of nowhere.”
“Please, it’s sweet!”
“Ugh, no stop it.”
You laugh and give him a light little kick, toes pressing into his side.
“It is sweet! I love you more for it!”
“Oh god, stop that!”
His tone is lighthearted though, and he traps your foot to tickle the bottom of it, eliciting a scream of laughter from you.
“Wanna move to the bed?” he asks when you calm, lining his body next to yours, his head propped up on an elbow to watch you with bright, elated eyes.
“No,” you tell him, rolling into the hard angles of his body, lips brushing over his jaw. “I think I like it right here, in front of the fireplace.”
It isn’t as though you hadn’t believed him, when he’d said that he was going to take care of you, but you’d had doubts. How could you not? How many men in your life had eluded to the idea? To the promise of satisfying your every need?
None of them held a candle to Leo.
Maybe that’s why the others had never lasted. Maybe your body and your heart had sensed that he was the one, had known the others couldn't stay so long as he was nearby.
There is love and care in his every touch. There is tender purpose in his caresses, in the way his lips slot against your own, in the way his tongue laps its way down the expanse of your neck. His hands may be firm but they are also reverent, as though the length of your body is holy, as though every inch of it he worships.
It’s like drowning, but it’s Leo who you have been plunged into, Leo who holds you under the current, and you’d never dare come up for air. You’ll drown here in his arms, happily. Blissfully.
When you are both stripped naked, clothes scattered on the floor around you and bodies warm from the fire that dances in your peripherals, you find that there is not a place on your body that Leo’s mouth does not seem to touch. Over your clavicle, down your arms to the inside of your elbows. He nips at each of your fingertips, finds your lips once more and ravages them, his hands kneading down to your breasts, his hips slotting against yours and rolling to meet your own, his movements mnemonic of what’s to come.
He gasps harshly into your mouth when your own hand finds his slit, fingers dancing a line up and down it, prodding the flesh in curious interest, watching his face and biting your lip when you find that there is give to the area and you are able to caresses it as though he might your own. Your gaze does not break from his, not when he growls as your fingers push deeper, not when he bucks into your hand, and certainly not when he drops into your awaiting palm, slick with precum and twitching at your touch.
Leonardo is large, long and wide and incredible. You’d known this was going to be the case well before this moment. You’d seen his gait, the way he sometimes walked as though he carried a weight between his legs that was unyielding.
He’d exuded that “big dick energy” since you’d known him, there had never been a doubt that this would be the case.
Still, you cannot help but comment.
“How do you walk with this thing between your legs?”
Leo gives a breathy laugh. “I dunno. You’ll have to find out after I have it between yours.”
Perhaps the joke should have made you laugh, but it only has you clenching around nothing, core tightening at the husky way his voice has canted.
“Yeah?”
It’s all you can seem to squeak out, gripping his cock at the base and running your hand up and down the length of it.
Lips crash together again, chasing away the ability to speak, the ability to think. Your mind has been thrust into a lust filled fog. He’s bucking into your hand, his tongue working its way into your mouth to entwine with your own.
Then his fingers find your own center, trail over the slick line of it with a groan.
Leo pulls away from you and moves quickly down the line of your body, like a man possessed. Like if he doesn’t get his mouth on you soon, he’ll burn up from the inside and be reduced to ash.
The way his lips attach to your clit, the way his tongue finds it immediately, is with the same wanton tenacity in which he’d just kissed you. It’s sloppy, and you gasp at the way he moans, like this moment does for him exactly the same as what it does for you. His tongue is everywhere, his hands gripping each cheek of your ass, pushing you up so your hips tilt, dragging the flat of it from the lowest point of you he can lick (and no one had licked you there before) all the way back up to your already pulsing bud. It dips into your center, and he growls as he pushes it inside you, his eyes rolling up to watch your face and growling again when he sees how undone you’ve gone- slack jawed and breathless.
It’s like he can’t decide where he wants his mouth more, moving back and forth from plunging his tongue inside of you to sucking and licking your clit, and you realize that each switch has you crying out, the room filled with sounds that are involuntary and utterly debauched.
You nearly fall apart when you notice the way his own hips thrust on the floor they press against, fucking into nothing and moaning into the center of you.
“Fuck… fuck, you like this,” you gasp, voice a wrecked purr.
His lips detach with a wet slap.
“No,” another lick, “Fucking,” a kiss right to your center, “Shit.”
His tongue has disappeared into the core of you once more, licking up as far as it possibly can, his snout pressing hard so that his face is flush against you, nuzzling so that he rubs against your clit.
“Leo… Leo fuck I’m…”
You cannot finish your words, and you cannot help that there is surprise laced in them. You go stiff, your walls clenching around his tongue. The orgasm rips through you and your bewildered mind can barely process what is happening. All you can do is try and fail to claw at the wooden floor below you and gasp your release.
From where he lays between your legs, you hear Leo whimper, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs and encouraging you to grind your hips, all but begging you to fuck his face.
Never in your life has a climax lasted so long. Leo just continues, his hips bucking down into the floor, his own noises mixing with your own and sounding throughout the room.
By the time he pulls away, gasping for breath, you are a shaking mess. Arms that feel like lead reach down to touch his cheeks, and when he looks at you it’s will eyes that are blown with desire- dark now with how they have dilated.
“Jesus Leo, look at you.”
You say it with reverence, with affection and awe. Never has a man looked as handsome as he does now, face so wonderfully intoxicated by you.
Leo growls in the back of his throat, then laps at the wet mess that leaks from you, making you twitch.
“Come here baby,” you moan. “Please come here.”
You see the way he hesitates, looking at your throbbing core as though he wants nothing more than to stay right there between your legs. But the look you give him encourages his compliance, it seems, because he moves to hover over you, grunting as you pull his face to your own.
The kiss tastes like you, not an inch of it reminiscent any longer of his own aroma. It’s just you alone that seems to fill him now, that licks its way into your mouth and makes you feel drunk and on fire.
You rise to a sitting position with him, humming when he maneuvers you onto his lap, his knees bending to support your back. Between the two of you his cock pulses, sliding over your folds and coating in your slick. His hands run up and down your back, fingers pressing into your skin.
“Pretty girl… my pretty girl,” Leo murmurs, trailing kisses over your jawline, nipping at your chin. “You make me crazy.”
“God Leo… God, please, please, please.”
His hips jerk, making you hiss and whine.
“Please,” you implore, and he growls in your ear.
“This? Yeah?” He begins to slide into you, hands finding your hips and grabbing the flesh that rests on them. “This is what you need, pretty girl?”
You can only nod, otherwise you’d babble nonsense.
It is a slow descent. Each inch has you both breathing heavily, eyes finding and locking together. You are holding onto his shoulders, fingers digging into the trapezius muscles that flex under your hands. It is as he sheaths himself fully inside you that your foreheads press together, breathing nearly synchronized as you both try to catch your breaths.
“God damn,” he huffs, and you give a little laugh and nod in agreement.
“You okay?” he asks, and if he thinks you can talk right now he is sorely mistaken.
Leo seems to understand this just from the way you can only shake your head up and down.
It starts only with him rocking up into you, hips making that grinding motion so that his cock is hitting every spot you’d ever need it to hit. Your head falls to the crook of his neck, nails leaving half moon indentations on his shoulders. Leo directs your hips, his grip a vice on them as he grates his own upward and yours down.
Eventually, you find your voice.
“Leo… I need more. I need more, please.”
You feel the way his chest rumbles, and then suddenly you are lifted. Leo stands, never letting the two of you disjoin (he makes it look so easy, the weight of you nothing to him), and soon he is seated on the small couch that faces the fireplace.
“Take what you need baby.”
With your knees resting on either side of his thighs, able to finally find purchase, you roll your hips.
It is as though neither of you have ever felt the delectable sensations that course through you now. Leo’s head falls back, eyes shutting as his neck rests on the cushioned loveseat, his hands moving to run up and down your thighs. He makes those soft, high little chirps that you know indicate an overwhelming happiness, and each time you rise and descend he lets out a huff of breath.
As though he can no longer contain himself, his head snaps forward, hands back at your hips and thrusting upwards, panting as he slams into you. You are breathless, the smacking sound of your hips colliding with his own filling the air. Then he relents, letting you take control once more, legs shaking.
This repeats, over and over until you’re teetering on the edge of another climax, frustration building that you cannot seem to reach it.
Again, this seems to be something Leo senses. You are off of him in an instant, losing that feeling of being filled up, and he has swept you into his arms bridal style, carrying you the few paces it takes his long strides to reach the bedroom.
The smell of roses are everywhere as you are laid on the bed, the soft petals that cover the expanse filling your head with their cloying scent. You see Leo’s adam's apple bob as he looks over you, eyes filled with heat and affection. He must think you paint a pretty picture, naked among the flowers.
Before he can join you, (and he had moved to do so), you push yourself so that you sit on the edge of the bed. You move quickly, mouth and tongue finding his length, sucking over the head of his cock and nearly vibrating when he lets out a long, loud groan.
Hands canting into your hair, Leo rumbles, “I knew you’d look so good like this, pretty girl.”
He says your name over and over, voice pitching high the further you take him in, and you rub and scratch along his thighs.
You make a face at him when he pulls you away, making your displeasure known.
“I’ll cum down that pretty throat later,” he rasps, pushing you up the bed and following along.
Someday, you will not be surprised by his affinity to keep his head between your legs. Someday, you will not be shaken every time he casually finds his way there, as though it is somehow the only place where his lips belong.
But today is certainly not that day.
“Hold these for me,” he tells you, pushing up your legs and indicating you should hold them apart for him. Then he is back to your center, sucking the swollen bud of your clit until you shake and cry out. When one large finger enters you and makes that come hither motion just twice, you fall apart.
The you are clenching around his cock, his movements swift as he switches the appendages, pumping into you at a languid pace, his own hands holding your legs apart now.
“God, that’s what I want. I want you cumming around my cock just like that baby.”
You are not sure you ever stop cumming, after that. He’s just going that steady pace while you cry out into oblivion, and just when you feel like you might come down he is pulling out of you and attaching his mouth back over your weeping cunt.
The back and forth is dizzying. It seems to last hours, and perhaps it does (though the clock bedside will later indicate that this is not the case). Eventually you find yourself cresting into overstimulation, a sob escaping your lips, the tremors that had been contained to just your legs now wracking your whole body.
It seems to be the thing that breaks Leo. He’s sliding back into you, hips snapping at a faster pace, breathing harsh. His thumb traces light circles over your clit, his face pressing into the knee of yours that he has thrown over his shoulder.
“One more time, pretty girl,” he murmurs down to you, nipping at your skin. “You can cum once more time on my cock. I know you can. Come on pretty girl, look at me. There you are. Cum, baby. I’ve got you just cum.”
The pressure you feel leaving your body, the wetness that leaves you in seeming waves, is one you have rarely ever felt.
“Hold your breath! Oh baby, that’s what I wanted. That’s it. Fuck. Oh pretty girl, that’s exactly what I wanted.”
When you finally do take in a breath you are a sobbing, tearful mess. You can only claw at his arms, hearing his words and helplessly babbling in return, and it is only to repeat his name over and over like a prayer.
“Let me cum inside you pretty girl?”
He’s asking, and you can only nod, legs wrapping around him tightly as he leans over you, pressing your lips together in an inelegant and frenzied kiss.
His voice is in your ear when he tips over that edge, groaning and chirping, his cock twitching against your cervix as he spills deeper inside you than anyone has ever been.
You both lay there with heaving breaths, neither of you moving, Leo’s cock still thrumming inside you. With tender hands he wipes away your tears, watching your face as you take deep, calming inhales and exhales.
“Didn’t even have to get out the hitachi,” Leo murmurs.
You slap his arm and reply between shaky breaths, “I don’t think… I need it… if this is what you’re gonna do… every time we have sex.”
He pulls out at that, sitting up on his ankles, and gives you a look.
“If you can still talk, then we aren't done.”
Later, much later, you are carried to the whirlpool and lowered into a bubble filled bath that is almost too hot.
“Worth the wait?” Leo asks, settling in next to you and pulling you onto his lap, holding you close.
Later still, when you can articulate anything other than a sleepy nod, you’ll tell him it was.