Work Text:
Mikey freezes the moment he sees Donnie in the lab with his laptop. His brother’s face is pinched, focused, eyebrow raised, and Mikey is praying to every god he can that this isn’t his worst nightmare come true.
“Donnie, why do you have my laptop?” Mikey asks, unable to stop the tightness in his voice, nor the pinched accusation behind it.
“You downloaded some malware from whatever porn site you were on last night— But nevermind that— Mikey have you been writing fanfiction of us?”
All hope is squashed, and all he can do is stand there, thinking back to all the words he’s written and the zooming eyes of his brother reading through them now at a super genius rate.
His heart in his throat, the words spill out of him like vomit, “DONNIE I CAN EXPLAIN—”
“Donatello sat in his lab, tinkering away on a new invention,” Donnie begins to read, a finger in the air to silence his brother as if he were a noisy child interrupting storytime. “Michelangelo came bounding in, full of energy as usual.” Donnie’s voice raises in pitch, tone bouncing in an eerily accurate impersonation of his brother. “‘Hey Donnie! What's up? Whatcha workin' on?’”
“Donatello looked up from his work and smiled at his friend.” Donnie raised an eyebrow at the word choice. “‘Oh, just a new gadget I've been working on. I think I've finally got all the bugs worked out of it.’ Michelangelo looked impressed. ‘Wow, you never cease to amaze me with your genius, Donnie’— Mikey when have you ever said this?”
Mikey stares flabbergasted, unable to answer the question, his whole face burning—
Then he rushes over, shoving Donnie and trying to take the computer out of his hands. Donnie stays persistent as a brick wall though, unable to help the smile on his lips as he continues to read with ease.
“Donatello blushed and looked down at his work. ‘Thanks, Mikey. I really appreciate that.’ The two turtles continued to chat for a while, catching up on each other's adventures from the past week. But as they were talking, Donatello couldn't help but notice the glow in Michelangelo's eyes as he talked about his latest skateboarding trick—”
“Donnie no!!”
Donnie can’t help but chuckle. “Sorry, dear brother of mine, but if you’re gonna write about me then don’t be shocked when I read it back to you—! ‘Donnie, you gotta come check out my new move! It's the most radical thing ever!’ Donatello grinned. ‘Sure, Mikey. Lead the way.’”
With a growling whine worthy of a medal, Mikey finally releases the laptop, plopping onto the floor next to Donnie with an angry pout and crossed arms. Donnie smirks as he continues to read, now free of his attacker.
“The two turtles made their way out of the lair and onto the streets of New York. They headed to the skate park where Michelangelo proceeded to show off his new move— Couldn’t even describe that move for us?— Donatello watched in amazement as Michelangelo spun and flipped through the air like a pro,” Donnie raises an eyebrow at his brother, a wide, shit-eating grin on his face as he reads the next line with overt enthusiasm. “‘Wow, Mikey! That was amazing! You really are a master of the skateboard.’”
Mikey groans, burying his face in his hands, wishing he could be buried alive right now.
“Michelangelo beamed with pride. ‘Thanks, Donnie. I couldn't have done it without your support and encouragement.’ Really Mikey? What are you? A PBS commercial?”
He wasn’t expecting Donnie to actually fucking critique his writing. He can’t even respond, only managing to glare up at his brother.
Donnie’s smirk only spreads, his voice gaining a slightly airy edge with dramatic romanticism.
“Donatello looked at Michelangelo, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. Michelangelo had always been a source of joy and inspiration for him. As much as he loved inventing new gadgets and tinkering away in his lab, there was something about Michelangelo's carefree spirit that always made him smile.”
Donnie’s eyes gained an evil spark to them, something Mikey’s seen plenty of times but has never been so afraid of.
“As the two turtles made their way back to the lair, Donatello found himself thinking about the depth of his feelings for Michelangelo. He had always been drawn to him, but he had never fully allowed himself to explore those feelings. But now, something inside him was telling him that it was time. Time to take a chance on love and see where it would lead—”
“As they entered the lair, Donatello took a deep breath and looked at Michelangelo. ‘Mikey, there's something I need to tell you.’ Michelangelo looked at him, curious. ‘What's up, Donnie?’
Mikey feels his own heart racing as if he were the one confessing right now— And in all honesty he might as well be.
“Donatello took a deep breath and let his heart speak. ‘Mikey, I think I might be in love with you.’”
If Mikey could get his mouth to work, he’d be screeching.
Michelangelo's eyes widened with surprise, but then a smile spread across his face. ‘Really, Donnie? I think I might be in love with you too.’ Mikey this is the most anticlimactic love confession I’ve ever read!”
“I— Hey—!”
Alright, so maybe it was a little cheesy. Doesn’t mean Donnie has to be so rude!
Donnie isn’t the least bit apologetic. “And with those words, the two turtles embraced, their hearts filled with joy and love. From that day forward, Donatello and Michelangelo were inseparable, their love for each other growing deeper with each passing day.”
“Okay, so I’m not the best writer—”
Donnie doesn’t even give him the opportunity to defend himself.
“Mikey, how do you expect to be a good writer if you don’t even like reading?” Donnie interrupts, and Mikey gasps at the completely true insult. “And this is just the first story, there’s like 20 of these.”
“You don’t have to be so mean y’know...” Mikey glares, crossing his arms, not caring how much his tone sounds like a bratty child.
“I’m almost offended you’d write us so shallowly— ‘Hey, dude. What are you working on?’ Donnie jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of his orange-clad brother. ‘Oh, Mikey, it's just a new gad-’ his words trailed off as he noticed the light blush on Mikey's face.”
Mikey’s own real face is now a burning bright red.
“‘Is something wrong, Mikey?’ ‘Uh, nothin' dude. It's just that...I'm a big fan of your work.’”
“That one’s not that bad!” Mikey tries to protest.
“You make us sound like strangers,” Donnie teases. “‘That's awesome, Donnie! You really have a way with machines,’ Michelangelo said with a wide grin.”
“Okay. Okay yeah maybe that line was a bit bad.”
“‘You really have a way with machines,’ Mikey, your writing’s adorable but it definitely needs some work.”
Mikey’s eyes prick with angry little tears. Some part of him is glad Donnie hasn’t run away from him in horror, but he’s not sure this relentless teasing is any better. He should’ve expected Donnie would find out about this, and Mikey can’t even be mad at him for violating his privacy when he’s the one who wrote romantic fanfiction of his brother in the first place, but it’s still the most mortified Mikey’s ever been.
Donnie just gives a soft smile, and closes the laptop, placing it on his desk.
“Y’know Angelo, writing is a skill like any other,” Donnie explains, his voice gentle in that rare way it only gets around Mikey, and despite his grumpiness it makes his heart flutter. “It takes time and practice to get good at it. Your writing might be a little… campy… but that’s okay. It’s natural, and all part of the process.”
Mikey still continues to pout, trying to ignore the soothing effect of the words. He’s an artist, after all, he knows this. That’s not the real reason he’s upset.
Donnie leans down closer to him, his voice softer, intimate.
“Besides, as far as confessions go, this one was cute.”
Then Donnie does the unthinkable, and gently tilts Mikey’s head and kisses him on the cheek.
It was only a peck, but Mikey feels his whole face burn as he cups his cheek, his skin still tingling.
It takes a minute, but then Mikey’s turning to his far-too-smug brother with sparkling eyes.
“You really think so?”
“Of course I do,” he replies, his tone almost triumphant, an eyebrow raised in his patented brand of confidence. But then he leans in close, whispering into Mikey’s ear, “And I want those 25 pages of porn sent to me ASAP.”
Mikey’s pulse rushes at what Donnie might do with those.