Request for irohahoheto - I really like the interaction between Mikey and Raph, so I was thinking a fic where they cook or do something different together would be funny and heart worming at the same time.
"I'm the fastest one outta all of you," Michelangelo bragged, rescuing his charred marshmallow from the bonfire.
"Also the loudest," Leonardo pointed out, making the others laugh.
"I've outrun ya plenty of times," Raphael scoffed.
Casey snickered and poked at the fire, sending smoldering orange sparks billowing up into the early dusk. Donatello and April speared fresh marshmallows on their sharpened sticks and sighed in unison.
"No way," Mikey insisted around a mouthful of gooey marshmallow. "I run faster, I board faster, I even swim faster," he said, gesturing to the dirt pathway that meandered through the trees to a large pond.
Raphael crossed his arms over his chest, green eyes narrowing. "You have never been able to swim faster then me and you know it."
Michelangelo jumped up from his log and threw down his roasting stick. "You have insulted my honor as a turtle," he declared dramatically. "I challenge you to a duel; first one to cross the pond wins."
"That's not a duel, that's a race," Donatello groaned.
"You're on," Raphael said over Don, his finger jutting out to point at Mikey. He then took the iron poker from Casey, drawing a starting line across the dirt.
"Oh, I've always wanted to do this!" April said excitedly, finding a large white napkin and situating herself a few feet down their 'track'.
Michelangelo and Raphael hastily shed their bulky padding and weapons before toeing the start line, their muscles coiled, eyes intent and smiles wide. April took another step back just to be safe and rose the napkin. "Ready? Go!" she yelled, twirling the white fabric over her head.
They flew by her in a dead sprint, leaving April breathless for a moment in their wake. With no need to be silent, their combined 500lbs of shell and muscle absolutely thundered down the trail, tearing up the hard-packed dirt beneath their bare feet. They disappeared into the din, the pounding echo of their footsteps in the distance followed by whoops and splashes.
oooooo
Raphael and Michelangelo were matched with one another as they pitched themselves off of the dock and into the semi-darkness. Their heads and shoulders emerged again almost immediately, sputtering and laughing as the early September chill momentarily shocked their bodies. The pond was fed by a small stream nearby, keeping the water fresh and crisp. They grinned at one another, took deep breaths and dove.
Between the four turtles, it was Raphael and Michelangelo whom spent the most time in the water, unable to resist the lure of being weightless and free, so literally in their element. Don and Leo seemed to be more grounded, preferring the comfort of something solid to hold onto in their tumultuous lives.
Mikey flanked Raph as they surged gracefully underwater, heading directly for the opposite bank. The harder they pushed their bodies the quicker their reserves of air needed to be replenished. The brothers rose towards the glass-calm surface, shattering the reflection of the moon against the water to take a breath. They were already almost halfway across and Raphael smirked as he kicked down and forward forcefully. He had at least a five foot lead on Michelangelo, and Raph was going to make him eat his words.
A star burst of silver bloomed directly in front of Raphael as he startled a school of fish, scattering them in every direction as he coasted by. He powered forward determinedly, peering back over his shoulder after a short time to check if Mikey had gained on him. He couldn't see him at all. Raphael twirled mid stroke, turning so he was swimming backwards and looking past his feet. No Mikey. It was impossible for him to have gained such a lead in the short time Michelangelo had been out of sight.
Worry gnawed at Raphael's chest and he paused, hanging suspended in the cool liquid, alone. The sky was still murky shades of gray in the dusk, the stars not quite shining. Shadows and reflections blended together under the water and despite his night vision, it was difficult for him to see into the distance.
Just as fear startled to settle into him, Raphael caught movement from the corner of his eye further below. Mikey was circling, practically invisible until he turned his lighter plastron upward or to the side. Raphael blew out a few bubbles from his nostrils angrily, gliding into the depths and halfway ready to throttle his brother. Who just disappears in the middle of a race without warning?
Someone easily distracted by shiny objects, Raph answered himself sourly. Michelangelo had followed the school of fish to where they took shelter in some tall plants and wood. He flitted around the structure, the fish themselves mostly staying within the dark caverns until Mikey tempted them out with his orange bandana. Some followed or picked at it curiously, while others fled lazily to opposite side, as if they sensed the complete lack of predatory instinct in his brother, who was now upside down and disappearing deeper into the mess of greenery.
Raphael let himself drift silently over, a reluctant smile on his face. Only Mikey. It turned out that the heap of driftwood was actually an old fishing boat, likely given a proper burial long ago when it had ceased to be water-worthy. Mikey popped up in front of him, eyes wide and excited, a grin on his face and tiny bubbles ghosting up from between his teeth. He flailed, pointed and grabbed Raphael's shoulder, inviting him to explore as if he'd found the ruins of the Titanic. Raph hadn't seen Michelangelo this excited about anything since Leo had woken up, so he humored him, letting Mikey pull him along.
Leo would never bother with this; the only time he came to the water was for muscle strengthening exercises. Don would probably unintentionally ruin the moment, taking samples and scaring off the fauna. Raphael just let himself be, keeping his movements fluid and calm, saving his breath as long as possible.
It was kind of cool. The boat had caved in here and there, creating a sanctuary for all sorts of creatures. Tall weeds and moss grew over and around it, hiding it from the view of the casual passer-by. Mikey picked up a little crayfish and danced it around, undoubtedly singing "Under the Sea" in his head, making Raphael struggle not to laugh. It pinched the pad of his thumb and wouldn't let go, making Mikey frantically wave his arm in slow, jerky movements. Raph clamped his hands over his mouth to prevent himself from inhaling after sharply blowing out a mirthful wall of bubbles.
Michelangelo grinned sheepishly when the tiny crustacean finally released him, instead going back to teasing the fish and actually getting three or four to follow after his orange mask. Raph held onto the boat, enjoying the quiet and watching Mikey entice fish, of all things, into playing with him.
They had been through a lot since coming to the cabin, from not knowing if Leo would ever come back and coping with their grief to the particularly gruesome mutants they had fought. Raphael felt the slight caress of the water, the brush of weeds over his legs and shell, smiling as a few fish flitted around his head to pick at the frayed red tails of his bandana. A strong sense of belonging swept over him, for once feeling like a natural part of something.
They needed to take a breath and reluctantly ascended together, Mikey instantly bursting into chatter. He was trying to landmark where his sunken 'ship' was so he could return and look for treasure during the day.
Raphael rolled onto his shell with outstretched arms, straightening out to float, head tilted back. The sky was darker and the stars were shining in earnest, millions of them. There had never been a view like this in the city, even on the clearest night. Raphael kicked his feet leisurely, his ears underwater and muffling his brother's voice. Finally he pointed up, catching Michelangelo's attention.
"Woooow," Mikey drew out appreciatively after mimicking Raph's position. "Sorry I messed up the race, bro."
Raphael stayed silent, enjoying the moment. He was going to tell the others Michelangelo had won anyway.