Dog Days of Summer - Chapter 13 - DebauchedSloth - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2025)

Chapter Text

Tuesday, July 1st, 2008

Group Chat: Mad Dogz

Don (10:21am):
Casey - April and Elise have decreed we have chicken wings for a 4th party, but the places up here can’t accommodate our order size. If I put one in at the butcher on 2nd and 9th, can you pick it up on your way out?

Casey (10:42am):
sure how much we talkin?

Don (10:42am):
30lbs of wings

Casey (10:43am):
Jeezus takes a lot to feed you bastards

Mike (10:45am):
im a growing boy!

Casey (11:07am):
how we cooking these?

Don (11:08am):
I’ve got the parts to build a stand with a propane burner. There’s already a big pot here.

April (11:09am):
So long as its not a repeat of the thanksgiving fried turkey debacle

Don (11:10am):
ye of little faith

Leo (11:17am):
Let us all remember that I’m not the only brother who nearly set a kitchen on fire

Elise, Mom (2)

Elise (12:03pm):
what’s the recipe for grandma’s secret buffalo sauce again?

Mom (12:15pm):
normal buffalo sauce recipe, she just added some lemon juice to it
and maybe some celery salt

Elise (12:17pm):
Like how much?

Mom (12:18pm):
I’d have to go find where I wrote the recipe down. I can send it to you later

Mom (12:32pm):
How’s everything over there?

Elise (12:37pm):
Fine. Dogs are good. It’s quiet. Got that sumac sapling out of the ground

Mom (12:40pm):
Be careful you don’t hurt yourself. I don’t want a call from the ER

Elise (1:05pm):
you also send me the recipe for your corn dip?

Mom (1:21pm):
You throwing a party?

Elise (1:25pm):
No, I just want buffalo wings and corn dip

Group Chat: Mad Dogz

Mike (6:18pm):
Where yall dinner is in 30 min
and E made brownies

Don (6:20pm):
I can smell those out here in the barn

Raph (6:20pm):
finishing a run

Leo (6:21pm):
Dad’s show is done at 7. Can we wait until then? He’s up.

Mike (6:21pm):
sure

Casey (6:35pm):
I want brownies

April (6:37pm):
E said she’ll save you some in the freezer

Mike (6:38pm):
don’t count on it I’m eating them all

Wednesday, July 2nd, 2008

Group Chat: Mad Dogz

Mike (9:08am):
dude, donnie did u eat the last of the poptarts

Don (9:10am):
They were free for the taking. Snooze you lose.

Raph (9:12am):
least he eats them rather than licks them now

Mike (9:12am)
ugh i was looking forward 2 those
u suck d

April (9:15am):
what did I tell you boys about making disparaging comments about that?

Mike (9:16am):
Sorry, I meant D as in Don not dick
tho he is a dick
4 eating all my gd poptarts

Leo (9:17am):
It is too early in the morning for this

Don (9:20am):
you hear that everyone? no dick jokes until noon, Leo’s orders

Mike (9:21am):
yeah, you hear that Case? Don’t respond to this until after noon

Casey (9:45am):
are you calling me a dick joke?

Mike (9:46am):
if the jock strap fits, bro


Group Chat: Lawrence Sibs

Elise (3:18pm):
What are you two heathens up to?

Ben (3:45pm):
lunch break at work

Josh (4:01pm):
Laundry

Elise (4:05pm):
Mom asked me again if either of you are dating anyone. I played stupid, but don’t think I’m going to keep lying to her.
Also, is it too early to start talking Christmas gifts? I have, like, a lot of free time right now.

Josh (4:10pm):
how’s life on the farm?

Elise (4:11pm):
Quiet
fireflies are cool, though

Josh (4:15pm):
not scary being there alone?

Elise (4:17pm):
What are you talking about, I have these ferocious guard dogs with me

Ben (5:20pm):
that ice cream shop still there?

Elise (5:26pm):
Yes

Ben (5:37pm):
are you still afraid of going into the basement alone?

Elise (5:38pm):
Yes

Josh (5:48pm):
so you’re not doing laundry

Elise (5:50pm):
I take my clothes out to the river and smack them against a rock

Ben (6:00pm):
who’s the heathen now

Group Chat: Mad Dogz

Mike (5:53pm):
Dude Case, call in sick! We need you up here, bro

Casey (5:57pm):
you gettin in trouble without me?

Mike (6:00pm):
yeah, dude, Elise is schooling me in Mario Kart and my pride is wounded

Casey (6:03pm):
loser

Don (6:10pm):
How is that possible? You play that game more than anyone on earth.

Mike (6:15pm):
I dunno! She’s got weird little hands
how bout you stop hiding in the barn and come defend the Hamato name
btw dinner is gonna be at 8 i got distracted

Thursday, July 3rd, 2008

Group Chat: Mad Dogz

Raph (2:03pm):
Whats your eta Case

Mike (2:05pm):
hurry up i want to try brining some of those wings

Casey (3:18pm):
off work at 7 but its a madhouse getting out of the city now

Casey (7:28pm):
might make it by 12

April (7:29pm):
love you

Mike (7:29pm):
yeah love you casey *kisses*

Casey (7:35pm):
knock it off

Leo (7:37pm):
Drive safe Case

Mike (7:38pm):
no speed
i need dem wings!

Casey (8:35pm):
Im getting on the road losers

Group Chat: Lena Suarez, Elise Lawr…

Lena (11:32pm):
I miss you come home
Shit you up? I forgot the time difference

Elise (11:35pm):
Yes, and not for another… 3 ish weeks? You can hold out.

Lena (11:36pm):
No! I need you!
I need my wingwoman when we go out

Elise (11:37pm):
Please, you do just fine without me

Lena (11:56pm):
are you working on your homework at least?

Elise (11:57pm):
what homework?

Lena (11:58pm):
don’t play dumb
you meet anyone out there yet?

Elise (12:01am):
Nope

Lena (12:03am):
Lady. Go find yourself that country boy dick like i told you to

Elise (12:05am):
Yee haw?

Lena (12:05am):
GET BACK ON THAT HORSE DAMMIT
SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY

Elise (12:06am):
Those are two totally different messages
Also this is not cowboy country. I'm in the middle of Mass.

Lena (12:06am):
don't be cute with me
both make you walk funny if you ride them long enough

Elise (12:08am):
As much as I enjoy you encouraging me to get dicked so hard I walk like John Wayne, it’s after midnight and I’m falling asleep. Love you.

Lena (12:09am):
dicked hard and GOOD, lady. HARD and GOOD.
also don’t forget cowgirls are an option. I know you’re curious.
also love you too

Friday, July 4th, 2008 - Day

Elise

Where did Donnie put that damn purple mug this time? He’d taken to hiding it in various places around the kitchen, always very high up, as some little joke.

It was about 7:30 in the morning and the house was still quiet and Elise ferreted around the kitchen looking for it. She didn’t need that mug, but it was on principle. It was her favorite, and he kept hiding it, so she stood on her toes and craned her neck to see if she could spot the damn thing. Yesterday it had just been pushed to the very back of the high shelf in the cabinet out of sight (unless you were as tall as Don), but the day before it had been on the decorative shelf that Grandma kept a few nicknacks on that were, all these years later, still there. A strange little time capsule.

She eventually found it on top of the refrigerator, partially hidden behind a loaf of sliced bread, and getting the stepstool out she claimed her prize with a slow smirk. Cheeky bastard.

Cheeky confusing bastard, she mused again, putting the stepstool away and reaching for the coffee carafe.

It started with the hand on the shoulder.

A passing gesture, a casual mark of familiarity…that and nothing more, she told herself. He had touched her before that, it was not new per se…so why did it feel different? Maybe because it kept happening.

They were little touches, small and innocent. In the last few days she might get a playful shove in the morning if she got to the kitchen before him and claimed the purple mug, or maybe his hand would lay lightly between her shoulder blades, his fingers just curling around near her neck, as he reached for the box of Pop Tarts while she was waiting for her english muffin to toast. Then it started being a hand on the lower back when he needed to navigate around her, like she somehow wouldn’t catch that there was a well over six foot tall turtle moving right behind her.

He didn’t need to touch her, but he did it anyway, and it gave her a little thrill each time it happened.

She by now had settled with herself that yes, she was 100% attracted to a very tall turtle man. She couldn’t help it. He was just so pretty , and criminally adorable with his glasses and suspenders and that dorky smile of his.

It did not, however, pass her notice that these new casual touches were much less likely to happen if anyone else was around, which struck her as a little odd. Michelangelo touched all the time and no one batted an eye. Even Raph wasn’t beyond a shoulder cuff or a teasing push, no matter who was around – but Don was subtle. So subtle she could easily convince herself that it was all in her head and told herself to stop feeling like a silly middle schooler, near swooning every time their crush paid them any bit of attention.

All the same, she tried to push a little, to see if there might be merit in her suspicions. She found reasons to touch Donnie’s shell, his arm – safe places, places that wouldn’t draw too much attention – and she could swear she’d feel him tense ever so slightly whenever she did. Was that good or bad? She didn’t know what to attribute to general mimicked human behavior or to whatever turtle reactions might be.

For instance one afternoon when she’d gone to put her garden tools away for the day she’d found Don already working in the barn and they fell into conversation. She’d said something that made him laugh out loud and before she knew it he’d done this funny little gesture where he tapped his fingers against her cheeks. It was only for a second, a quick tap tap tap and then his eyes went wide and he’d snatched his hands back. He then quickly picked up a wrench and walked over to the old truck, saying something technical about the engine that she didn’t understand. She was a little bewildered, yet somehow pleased? That had to have been some kind of turtle thing because he seemed to want to ignore it, so she let it go, but damned if it didn’t make her glow inside a little for some reason.

Which brought them to now, the morning of day one of Farmhouse Olympics.

Today would be what Mike called the Classics: javelin throw into a mannequin, tossing stuff with a pitchfork, tug-of-war, then some kind of weight lifting, and finally wrestling. The caber toss had been scratched as Mike never did find a suitable pole replacement and Elise felt bad about that, but he waved her off. They also used to do a night race, apparently, but decided against it this year since a party and the pony keg Casey had shown up with sounded more fun.

Tomorrow would be the swimming events, and Elise just prayed she moderated enough today so that she wasn’t totally hung over when she was contractually obligated to play jockey to four competitive turtles.

Water. She had to remember to drink water.

After feeding the dogs she went out to the front porch to let them roam around and flopped down onto the swing bench. The day was supposed to be warm, but not too hot, which was good. Mike said the events were to start at noon, so there was still some time to kill until then, and as if on cue the screen door swung open again and Donatello walked out.

“Mug thief,” he said, smiling at her and holding his own coffee. The smile she gave him was bigger than she intended, but damned if she didn’t start to feel giddy any time they managed to be alone together in this overcrowded house.

“This don’t belong to you, stop hiding it,” she mock-scolded as he took a seat next to her, careful not to offset the balance of the bench with his weight.

“I have to get my kicks in where I can,” he chuckled and damnit, she couldn’t stop smiling.

“You’re not even around to watch me hunt for it.”

“You don’t know if I have hidden cameras.”

“Pft you– wait, do you?” She knew enough to know that might be a possibility. Don just grins and says nothing, so she scoffs and sips out of her claimed mug, then ventures to say, “ready for the competition later today?”

Don just sighs and the tail end of it fades to something akin to a growl, which she’d heard a time or two before and was fascinated by. It made her wonder what other noises he could make that she couldn’t.

“Leo wins pretty much everything except for the weight lift, which is obviously going to go to Raph, so it’s really just a farce competition at this point,” he said as he looked out over the yard. Both Daisy and Gio were sniffing around their favorite tree not far off.

“So you’re less than enthused. Got it,” then after a pause, “I feel like you’d do well at wrestling. Your arms are so long.”

Don then held out his arms for inspection and wiggled his fingers. They were indeed long and muscular and beautiful with his patterns of hunter green scales that faded into olive green skin.

“I do have the reach, but Raph’s not much shorter than me and he’s got the mass…and he’s ornery.”

“Is he? He’s always pleasant with me.” And he was, but she also knew he could be prickly so she said that with a knowing smile.

“You’re not his brother,” Don scoffed.

When their conversation lulled Elise decided that she should test the waters again and gave his upper arm a playful light thwap with her hand.

“Well, try anyway. This is likely to be a highlight of my summer. If you’ve trapped me here, the least you can do is be entertaining.”

That made Don laugh, and he quipped, “are we not entertaining? The oddity of cohabitating with four mutant turtles and a rat doesn’t count as entertaining?”

“Well when you put it that way, fine, do the bare minimum and come in last place for everything,” she grinned behind her mug.

“You could always join in,” he teasingly suggested.

“Pft. Don’t rope me into this just so you won’t be last. My attempts would be laughable. You see this muscle? Only there because of moving dirt.” She lifted her arm and flexed, showing a not terribly impressive bicep, though she was secretly rather pleased with it. She’d thought all this digging and log moving might have made a bit of improvement in the last couple weeks.

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” he reached out and wrapped his hand around her upper arm, engulfing it, his fingers gently pressing as if he were gauging the strength and working from elbow to shoulder and her pulse quickened.

Ok, this was new.

“Yeah yeah. I’m not a freaking ninja,” trying not to blush, she pulled her arm back and tucked it into her side, then needed a distraction while her mind spiraled a bit and craned her neck around to see if the dogs were still in sight or if they’d wandered off elsewhere. Trying to figure out her next move, she heard Lena’s voice in her head, telling her to stop being a chicken shit.

But he’s not human , that nagging little voice always reminded her.

He also wasn’t a horse…or a cowboy…but she did technically ride him already. Technically.

She chewed on her bottom lip for a second, thinking, and then thought fuck it, lets really test this, and rolling her shoulders she steeled herself a bit and tried to channel her inner Lena.

“That would also be a totally unfair wrestling match,” she began, weighing if she should just leave it there or push, and the devil on her shoulder told her to push and she added, “you’d pin me in two seconds flat.”

She’d tried to sound casual, but still ended up using her coffee mug to hide her face, and she waited to see what he would do. Then followed a long enough moment of silence where she began to wonder if she’d again overstepped, but then he spoke.

“I’d give you more of a fighting chance than that,” his tone was a little playful and it made her eyebrow arch.

Ok. Were they officially flirting now? Even she couldn’t talk her way out of understanding that response. How did she respond? This was the first time she could recall he got anywhere near openly flirting. She decided to get a little deeper into that water, to finally see if maybe she wasn’t crazy to read into all of these little casual touches he’d been teasing her with. She just had to keep her voice light. Not let her face show what she was thinking. If he backed off, easy enough to move on to something else.

She swallowed. “Fighting chance, huh? Would you…” her mind scrabbled for an action, “...let me tie your hands behind your shell?”

Fuck, girl, maybe a little too direct.

Another few beats of silence passed before he gave a funny little cough and likewise took a drink from his own coffee.

“I suppose you could…”

Ok, not retreating. Keep going.

“Nah, that wouldn’t be enough,” a little more confident now she continued to muse and held that casual air surprisingly well as she added, “I’d have to blindfold you, too.”

He tried to hide the noise of surprise he made at this, and was very near successful had she not been listening for it.

With a feigned nonchalant shrug she went on, “even with all that, probably could still get me flat on my back in an embarrassingly short amount of time.”

Ok. That’s far enough , she told herself. She was making herself a little hot and bothered by this banter, which made her squirm and press her thighs together. She hadn’t meant to do that, but it was too late now.

He’d gone quiet and was staring out into the middle distance, and now she really did wonder if she’d gone too far with that one when he eventually swallowed and said, “well I can’t be flat on my back. That’s not possible,” and he lifted his arm so he could make three dull knocks on his own shell.

She snorted then, unexpected and loud.

“Touché,” she laughed, but then their eyes met, held, and her laughter slowly faded. He has such nice eyes, she thought again, but then Don pushed his glasses up his snoot and cleared his throat as he dipped his head, suddenly finding his feet incredibly interesting. She likewise cleared her throat and drank the last of her coffee as her mind spun for the next thing to say. When she looked back at him she noticed he was flexing one hand where it rested against his thigh, his fingers almost looking like they were spasming a little.

“I’ve got the fryer all ready to go,” he coughed again as he clenched his hand into a fist.

“Oh. Good. Cool,” she responded, then thought it best to move on to more neutral topics and said, “April told me about the turkey frying incident.”

Don’s expression went from wary to annoyed in an instant.

“That was totally Mike, I configured that rig perfectly and he–”

“I dunno,” she cut him off, smirking and tsking, “Apil said the flames were–”

“Ugh, quiet you!” and grinning his hand was suddenly reaching for her, fingers spread wide on that broad palm and it was headed directly for her face. In the seconds she had her mind whirled.

Was he going to do that funny finger tapping thing again?

Wait, was he going to facepalm her?!

Oh dear lord he was.

“Wha– whaderyou–!” she squawked and tried to squirm away, but by then it was too late. His hand was large enough to engulf her from ear to ear and he gave her a playful little squeeze and shake.

Ohmigdnnie! ” she protested and tried to push his hand away, then heard him laugh, so she did what any grown ass adult would do in that scenario…she licked him.

Flat of the tongue, broad stripe, as much as she could get.

She was sure her inner eight year old was proud of her, but then her twenty something year old sense of dignity did a full on record screeching stop.

His hand immediately shot back and the laughter died away into soft, but somehow very defined breathing and they were left staring at one another. He certainly looked surprised and she assumed her eyes were as wide as they could go and her gaze darted to his still open palm and could see the sheen of her own saliva there, glistening in the morning light.

“Your, uh, hand taste like sugar,” she stammered, unsure what to do, and fuck, now she really was turned on. What did she expect, sitting out here and joking about the possibility of getting under him? That dull ache was there between her legs and her skin felt hot as she shifted around uncomfortably, then watched as his tongue darted out, wide pink blep that it was, to wet his lips. Then his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. Then they flared again, hard, like he was scenting something and his eyes darted to her, then snapped away again.

“I, uh, ate one of those cinnamon rolls before coming out here…” he sounded dumbfounded and a little lost and then stared at his hand, the spit already evaporating in the open air.

Then the front screen door opened and Leo stepped out and Don quickly wiped his palm on his pant leg like he was hiding a dirty magazine under his pillow.

“Don, there you are,” Leo said, then offered good mornings to Elise and she to him.

“H-hey, Leo,” he definitely stammered, but then his full attention was on his brother.

“Dad wants to get up and have breakfast with us, gimme a hand?” Leo asked and Don agreed immediately, almost herding Leo away and flashing an awkward parting smile at her as he shoved his hands in his pockets as he left.

When they were gone Elise slumped in the swing bench and grabbed her mug to take a drink, only to remember she was out of coffee after she tilted the cup back.

She could still taste the sugar on her tongue.

The rest of the morning went by uneventfully enough. She and April had to make a last minute run into town for ice, but were back by 11, and by 11:30 Elise found herself standing in her bedroom upstairs contemplating her clothes.

She’d brought relatively little for this trip, thinking she was just going to be taking care of two dogs, so wardrobe variety had not been a high priority. Two pairs of jeans, her overalls, five t-shirts, three tank tops, and a light jacket, that was pretty much the extent of it, and she’d worn all of these things several times over already and in a variety of possible combinations.

As she stood staring at the open drawer of the dresser the thought of licking Don’s hand replayed over and over in her mind. It had been such a childish gesture, but she’d been going without much physical interaction for months now and apparently that was enough to spark all kinds of lewd thoughts. She recalled the texture of it, the size , and wondered what he’d do if she could try that move in other places. Still, insecurity and general doubt found their way into these thoughts. She wished she had more confidence than this, and maybe she would if the object of her desire wasn’t a mutant turtle superhero.

She was currently wearing a mostly clean pair of jeans and her favorite teal tank top, but thought that maybe today she should make an effort. It was her first – and likely only – Farmhouse Olympics. That felt like something to celebrate. Or really that was just a passing excuse and what she actually wanted was to look nice for once, to maybe not look like some kind of dirt covered gopher and actually like a woman so that…what? Donnie might look at her?

Ok, fine, it was 100% so Donnie might look at her, so she went to the closet and pulled out the dress .

It was a simple thing, a sleeveless wrap around turquoise blue cotton with a vibrant floral pattern and a slightly ruffled hem that cut off at mid thigh. Totally not her normal style, but she’d liked it when she saw it at the thrift shop. It looked fun and carefree and the total opposite of what she had been feeling at the time she bought it months ago. Lena had made sure she’d packed it; the ‘date dress’, she’d called it. Well, dates were certainly off the table, but she could still be fun and carefree for an afternoon and evening.

Slipping it on and tying it at her back she surveyed herself in the mirror. Not terrible, she thought, at least liking how it accentuated her waist. Then she looked at her legs with dissatisfaction whilst also knowing that she was her own worst critic so she tried to channel Lena’s voice in her head instead, and Lena had been full of positive reinforcement and blatant flattery when she saw this dress.

It was just supposed to be something fun, she reminded herself, something to make the day feel a little special. It wasn’t meant to do anything other than that.

“This dress is for you,” she told her reflection sternly, knowing that was only half true, before slipping on the pair of leather sandals she’d brought and walking back downstairs.

By now it was just about noon and she found only April in the kitchen grabbing a bag of chips. Daisy thumped her tail where she lay on the kitchen floor and Gio was right next to April, straining his head up, eyes fixed on the chip bag. When April turned she gave Elise the quick once over and smiled.

“Well there’s a change from the past couple of weeks,” she teased, cracking the bag open and pouring the chips into the big bowl she set out.

“Thought I’d wear this thing at least once while I was here. I dragged it 3000 miles after all,” Elise picked at the front closure of the dress, then nervously gave the hem a little tug downward. It really wasn’t all that short, but she didn’t expose her legs like this all that often. She had to for swimming by necessity, but she didn’t like it. Her legs were definitely her biggest insecurity point and she’d been trying to be more positive about them.

April just gave an appreciative hum and said, “well you look great. And they’re about to start, so come on.”

Grabbing two bottles of beer as well as the bowl of chips, they walked out of the house with the dogs trailing after them and toward the barn where Mike had set up the events for the afternoon. All four brothers, Casey, and Splinter were already assembled, Splinter having been given pride of place in one of the armchairs from the living room that they’d carried out. Elise was glad he was feeling well enough to come out and watch. He’d had a rough day two days before, complaining of pains in his head and the boys had all rotated sitting with him until it eased.

All eyes now turned towards the two women as they approached and it was Mike who made the low whistle.

“Well look at you. You clean up nice,” he said, hands on hips, giving her the once over and making Elise feel self conscious even though she knew she shouldn't and willed herself to not tug the skirt down.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s a dress,” she threw up her hands, gesturing up and down her body dismissively. “I packed it, haven't had a reason to wear it, and today seemed like a good enough reason. Besides, I need to do laundry. Now I’m here to see a crash dummy get skewered. Who’s first?”

They took their seats on the grass next to Splinter’s chair and passed the chip bowl around and it was sitting in Elise’s lap when a shadow suddenly engulfed her and an arm passed over her shoulder to grab a handful of chips. Her head craned up and found Donatello bent over her, his lips curled into that damn boyish smile again. He wasn’t wearing his suspenders today, sadly, but he did look cute in his black Starfleet Academy hat.

“Fuck you’re tall,” she muttered and then he rolled his eyes and sat down next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“You do look nice,” he said softly and her inner middle school girl screamed and giggled, which annoyed her, while her outer self just tried to look relaxed.

“Thank you, but should you be getting your hands greasy right before you’re supposed to throw a deadly projectile?” she sassed as he shoved chips into his wide mouth and then she definitely was not thinking about licking the salt off his fingers. Before he could defend himself however, April cut in.

“Hey Donnie,” she grinned, “was it last time we did this that you overshot and nearly nailed a squirrel?”

Don’s boyish grin quickly turned sheepish and he deflated a little.

“No, it was the year before that…and the squirrel was fine,” he grumbled, and his glum expression made Elise feel a little bad that she’d laughed at that.

“Mike said you made the javelins? They're impressive,” she then complimented, noting that she liked how each was painted with (she now knew) their signature color. She was rewarded by the slight swell in his chest and he got up to get his to show her how he had milled them out of 1” steel pipe and how he’d copied the specs of real olympic javelins to the letter. She tried to absorb everything he was saying, too, but kept finding herself distracted by his hands.

The javelin throw was set up with an old length of rope as the throwing line and ‘Mark’, their named crash dummy, was positioned some 50 yards away in a clearing in the woods. As Michelangelo was the instigator of this whole affair, he was the first to go and sauntering up to where April and Elise were sitting he grinned playfully and kneeled down before them, presenting his javelin with bowed head.

“Would the dear ladies please bless my spear?” he said, clearly holding back snickers.

“Ew, gross, Mikey,” April huffed and threw a chip at him and he lept up laughing, then approached the run up to the throwing line.

“Don’t choke, Miguel,” Raph rumbled, taunting his brother from the side lines.

“Yeah yeah, you just watch,” he shot back and adjusted his grip, locked eyes on Mark, took a running start and let fly.

The javelin sailed through the air and landed with a satisfying thunk on the bullseye target on Mark’s chest.

“Tough luck, Mikey,” Leo teased, which confused Elise because that had seemed pretty impressive to her. Elise had really good vision, but even she had to use the binoculars to really see where the thing landed on Mark, and it looked like it was only maybe six inches from the center target.

“Ellie distracted me with her cute dress,” Mike grinned and gave her a quick wink, ever the cheeky flirt, and despite knowing that Mike was just being Mike, Elise still felt a blush building in her cheeks. But… since she’d gotten wise to his little flirt game she’d been waiting to one up him and he’d just handed her the perfect shot.

“I can remove it if it's that much of a distraction to you,” she kept her face completely serious, which was a real struggle, and reached around to where the dress tied in the back, going so far as to actually pull out one of the bow loops and slowly dipping one shoulder just enough to get the dress to fall down a few inches and expose some skin.

Mike’s eyes went wide as saucer plates and she could hear the figurative record screech in conversation amongst the rest of them, and by then she couldn’t hold it anymore and her face broke into a grin, at which Mike let out the breath he was apparently holding and leaning forward put his hands on his knees.

“Jeez, gurl, unsportsmanlike conduct!” he wheezed, “I thought you were serious for a second.”

She was still laughing as she pulled the dress shoulder back in place and re-tied the loop and watched Mike and Casey walk off to confirm Mike’s score and to retrieve the javelin. It was then Elise realized Don, who was still kneeling next to her, was very fixedly looking straight ahead. Glancing over she then noticed that there was a stray hair — either hers or April’s, she couldn’t tell in the shadow — stuck just behind his shoulders down where his skin transitioned into the harder carapace.

It was such an intriguing stretch of skin, the texture smoothly pebbled and taught as his neck sloped down, but then turned into small creases where the skin was looser, presumably to allow for movement. Debating for a moment if she should do it, she dared to reach over and gently pluck the hair out, letting her fingers just brush him where the folds began. This made his head snap around to her and she noted that his pupils seemed to be a little dilated, again, magnified by his glasses, which she thought odd given how bright it was out.

“Stray hair. Sorry for being a shedding mammal,” she smirked, dropping the hair somewhere in the grass.

“Oh…s’ok,” he ducked his head and didn’t seem to want to look her in the eye, using the brim of the hat to shield him. She could still see his mouth however, and his tongue quickly darted out once to wet his lips as he informed her, “turtles shed, too. We, uh, shed our scutes.” Then he stood abruptly and went over near Leo, who was standing at Splinter’s side.

Raph went next, plucking up his red javelin and approaching the line. His attempt landed about the same distance from center as Mike’s did, and again, they all acted like it was some bad shot. Was she crazy, or was getting within six inches of a target that is fifty yards away not incredibly impressive? She clearly had only the faintest idea of what skills they possessed.

Then it was Casey’s turn, and while he knew he could never perform on the level that the brother’s did, he was a good sport and did it for fun. His shot landed some 15 or so yards from Mark.

“Ya sons of bitches with your mutant muscles. At least I’m closer this year than last time!” he hallooed, sounding both frustrated and proud of himself.

Don and Leo rock paper scissors for who went next, and Leo threw rock to Don’s scissors so he stepped up to the line. He was clearly confident in his skills by the way he moved and his running start was smooth and graceful and his javelin flew true… and landed what looked like smack in the middle of the bullseye. The other three brothers and Casey let out a collective groan while Leo just looked smug.

“Goddamnit,” Raph muttered, gritting his teeth.

“Raphael, you should congratulate your brother on such a magnificent shot,” Splinter said, looking small and frail in his chair, and this made the big turtle look even more sour. As Casey accompanied Leo to go confirm the score and retrieve the javelin, Mikey sidled up to Don.

“It’s all on you now, Jolly Green,” he stage whispered, “you gotta knock Leo out. He cannot, and I repeat, cannot be allowed to be the champion, again .”

“Jolly Green Giant. Haven’t heard that one in awhile,” April smirked, taking a swig of her beer.

“Dude’s grown like another inch in the last year, the jerk,” groused Mike, who then turned back to Don. “Come on, Donnie. You can do this! For the glory! For rubbing it in always-perfect Leo’s face!”

“Geez, no pressure,” Don’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Leo and Casey returned, marking Leo’s score as two inches from perfect center and April noted it down on her score sheet. Then it was Donnie’s turn to throw, and Elise watched him as he seemed to be talking to himself, his fingers moving in midair like he was trying to calculate something.

“That’s right, Donnie baby, figure out the wind resistance or whatever you’re doing. Channel that math shit. Whatever you need to do to take Leo down,” Mike spoke in a hushed voice, ever the hype man, and Leo scoffed and grabbed him in a neck hold and just let him struggle there squawking for a few seconds before releasing him.

Don then stepped up to the line, sliding his cap around so the brim was in the back, making the Starfleet Academy logo visible again, and Elise thought she saw him glance her way briefly before centering himself, adjusting the javelin in his grip, and making the running start. Elise watched as his long arm released the spear and it went flying. She held her breath. The javelin began its downward arc and…

It hit dead center.

Dead, fucking, center.

Mike erupted into enthusiastic screaming and even Raph let out a surprised shout. Don slid his cap back around and threw up his arms his triumph with the dopiest grin on his face and Elise just ate it up. Seriously, how can someone that big be so goddamn adorable?

“You did it! I knew you could, bro!” shouted Mike, grabbing Don and lifting him up several inches.

“Hey now, gotta go check Mark first. Don’t be crowing yet,” Casey made to go check the final score, but from what she could see via the binoculars, Donnie had really done it. A few minutes more confirmed it and Mike's cheering began all over again.

“Well done, Donnie,” Leo smiled, clapping him on the shell and looking genuinely pleased. Over Leo’s shoulder, Don’s gaze locked with Elise’s and she dared to give him a encouraging thumbs up and a quick wink and was rewarded when his expression turned practically bashful.

The next three events, ‘throwing things with pitchforks’ (a comic variation of what Elise knew to be a sheaf toss), the tug-of-war, and deadlifting, went by in a hilarious blur. Elise tried her hand at foisting a, albeit much lighter, weighted bag with the pitchfork and didn’t do all that bad she thought. The bag weighed probably a fraction of what theirs did, and she still only managed to get it a third of the distance Leo had, but she took pride in it nonetheless.

The tug-of-war was actually multidirectional, which Elise had never seen before. The ‘rope’ was actually one big industrial strength rubber cable that had been formed into, for all intent and purpose, a big ass rubber band. All four brothers were positioned inside of it, and when April called ‘go!’ each of them strained forward, pulling the band in four different directions.

The goal was to get across a set line some ways in front of them and each brother’s pull worked against the rest of them. Don actually fell first in this one, toppling backwards hard onto his shell, followed by Mike. Then it was down to Leo and Raph, and Elise had no idea how he did it over Raph’s absolute battle tank of a body, but he managed to win, which just earned a collective groan from his brothers.

As Don had predicted, deadlifting Raph did win, and hands down when he picked up the back end of their van clear over his head and Elise outwardly gaped, never having seen any of them exercise their full strength before that.

Then it was the final event of the afternoon: wrestling, the classic of Olympic sports. Elise wasn’t sure how they could manage it, what with all that lifting and throwing and straining already, but she supposed they were parkour climbing, crime fighting ninjas, and all four were raring to go, Raph and Mike smack talking to each other the entire time.

“You always choke on this one Mikey, yer all talk no reach ,” Raph laughed, his arm flying out to palm his shorter brother square in the face and shove him, which afterwards Mike went plastron to plastron with him, puffing himself up.

“Well yeah? Yer all brawn and no finesse , bro. No foreplay all—” Mike was cut off by his father’s quiet, yet very clear sound of admonishment, and Raph gave him that ‘ha, you got yelled at by dad’ smirk.

“Knock it off, you two, there are ladies present,” chided Leo, mimicking their father as he knelt beside him next to the armchair. Elise gasped at Leo’s words and whipped her head towards her cousin.

“You’re a lady?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Pretty sure April hasn’t been a lady since that Halloween party in 2005,” Raph snickered and April gave him the double middle finger on the sly where Splinter couldn’t see her hands and Raph feigned shock, gesturing to her, “see? See what I’m talking about? What ladylike behavior.”

“Ain’t my fault you only have three fingers and can’t flip the bird,” April called sweetly, which made the big turtle laugh.

“You could always use the old Shakespearean way to say ‘F’you’. You bite your thumb and then flick it out.” Elise demonstrated by doing just that, biting and flicking her thumb in Raph’s direction. Then her eyes lit up. “Or! OR! You could go even older and do the two finger V-salute. This isn’t completely historically credible, but it’s a good story. During the Hundred Years’ War in the late Middle Ages the French would cut off the pointer and middle finger of captured English archers, with the idea that without those fingers they couldn't draw their longbows, which were made out of yew. Uncaptured English archers would then taunt the French by raising those two fingers and shouting ‘pluck yew’, which eventually morphed into ‘fuck you’.”

Multiple sets of eyes stared at her and she stared back.

“What? That is a totally cool story!”

“Shit, she’s as nerdy as Donnie and as unladylike as you, April,” Raph said in disbelief.

“O’Neil blood runs thick, buddy,” grinned April, throwing an arm around her cousin.

The first few wrestling matches were impressive as they rotated competing against one another. Elise got a little breathless just watching them as it was like two titans grappling with one another. The Raphael versus Leonardo match was particularly fierce to watch, with Leo somehow managing a win even though Raph, again, outdid him in mass. Leo versus Mikey was just plain ol’ entertaining as Mike already knew how it was going to go down so just played it for laughs.

It was the Donnie matches, however, that really caught Elise’s attention.

Elise had already had a hard enough time this afternoon watching Donnie simply exist . Event after event that showed her how strong he was and gave her an excuse to just openly stare at him… And now? As she watched him take on Raph? Where he was just fucking beautiful with shoulders sweating and using his long arms to practically engulf his much burlier brother? Well, that did some things and she caught herself involuntarily squeezing her thighs together as she sat on the grass watching them.

Raph and Donnie’s match was the forth out of the six matches, but they went at each other as if it was their first. Elise wondered if they were putting on more of a show for the sake of their dad, or if this level of intensity was just how they operated.

The series of grunts and growls and — did she hear a hiss? Maybe — certainly wasn’t helping Elise’s state of mind, and her eyes were positively transfixed by the way Donnie’s veins and tendons stood out on his hands and forearms as he gripped onto Raph’s right thigh in an attempt to unbalanced him by getting his knee to buckle — which he did, but no sooner than he did Raph had grabbed the left and right side of Donnie’s shell and bodily twisted him so he was now shellside down on the grass with Raph moving like he was going to try for a pin, lifting Don’s legs up over his shoulders so he would be at a major disadvantage balancing on his shell.

“Big Teddy’s going for the win! How will Jolly Green escape?” Mike’s near constant ringside commentary called out as he got down on the ground, ready to start the countdown. Don struggled, but Raph now had him teetering on the upper half of his shell where even Don’s long arms couldn't reach him.

“Come on Donnie!” Elise shouted suddenly, getting up to her knees, swept away in the excitement of the match, wanting to encourage him. He was her favorite, after all. She doubted he was listening, being so caught up in the struggle, but his eyes did seek her out for a fraction of a moment. Mike was sprawled out plastron side down on the grass and lifting his hand. He started the count with the slap of his hand.

Dog Days of Summer - Chapter 13 - DebauchedSloth - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1)

Then Don did something nobody was expecting, apparently, including Don himself. With what must have taken a monumental amount of strength, Don managed to shift himself, getting one leg on either side of Raph’s head and hooked his feet on the underside of his brother’s shell at the sides. Then somehow… somehow! ...He used that purchase to hinge himself up at the waist and harnessed that momentum to topple Raph backwards, where Don moved quickly to pin him. Raph surged to lift himself, but Don got him in some crazy hold, his biceps bulging and face showing the strain. Mike looked shocked, but started the count again, slapping the grass like a goddamn madman at the 3-2-1…

Donatello released Raph and quickly leapt back as Raph sprung up like a wild animal escaping a trap. He glared daggers at Don at first, blustering and pissed, and as massive as he was, that was no small visual threat. But then his eyes took in his brother, panting and sprawled in the grass, then they slid to Elise for the briefest moment before finally shaking his head, the ghost of a smile curling on his lip.

“Musta been lookin’ to impress this year,” Raph chuckled, extending a hand to help Donnie up, which he took.

“I can’t fucking believe it! You took down Raph? I love you, Donnie boy, but damn, Raph, you’re going soft,” Casey looked just about as shocked and amazed as Mikey did and Don only seemed capable of giving a weary smile.

“Saw an opportunity. Took it,” he sounded like that move had cost him, and for a second Elise wanted to rush up and hug him in congratulations, but stopped herself. Not in front of all his brothers.

“That was the greatest thing ever! Don, you gotta show me that move! Oh my god that was so fucking cool!” Mike continued to gush, his high energy making him nearly run in small circles.

“That was an impressive move, my son. Congratulations to you both on a match well fought,” Splinter’s paper thin voice called them over to him. His rheumy eyes were tired, but proud looking, and both Donnie and Raph seemed to swell with pride, too, and went to stand before him.

“Thank you, sensei,” they bowed politely, and Leo handed back Donnie’s glasses, but as soon as Splinter’s head was turned to say something to Leonardo, Raph's hand shot out and jabbed Don’s exposed side, causing him to yelp.

“Rematch later. I need to reclaim my pride,” his look was dour, but the tone was teasing, and he clapped Donnie on the back of the neck before he locked sight on his shortest brother. “Alright, Mikey. You and me next. Get ready ‘cause I’m pissed now.”

At this Mike groaned, but then his expression changed as he lifted his face and took a good long whiff of the air, his eyes closing and an uncommon frown creased his brows.

“What smells good?” He asked, continuing to take deep inhalations.

Raph, Don, and Leo sniff likewise, and one by one they too close their eyes as if they were trying to place the scent, but the memory being just out of reach. That is until Raph’s eyes flashed open and went straight to Elise, which confused her. Why on earth was he looking at her? Almost at the same moment Don’s eyes opened too and his eyes also darted tentatively her way, then anywhere else.

“You guys and your super noses. I don’t smell anything,” April sniffed the air, shrugging.

“Kind of smells like… a little sweet and… earthy?” Mike’s voice had gone soft, his brain looking like it was desperately spinning trying to pinpoint what this mystery scent was.

“Sounds like it might be a compost pile. Could be on one of the neighbors' farms,” Elise said, knowing those words were associated with compost smells. Raph was still looking at her, then eyes flicked to Donnie, then back to her again, all the while chewing one side of his bottom lip.

“Maybe…” Mike continued to sniff, walking around now, trying to detect what direction the scent was coming from. Within a few seconds he was shifting over in Elise’s direction, and she frowned again in confusion, then frowned even more when Donatello stepped in between her and Mike, halting his progress.

“It’s getting late, we need to finish the last two matches so we can go start dinner,” he said, rather firmly.

Elise shifted where she sat, unbending one of her knees, and that little move suddenly alerted her to the not insignificant wetness between her legs and she froze. She knew she had been, um, turned on by watching Donnie, but she hadn’t quite realized how… affecte d she’d actually been. Shifting again and trying to play it cool that her underwear was probably soaked through she casually felt the back of her dress, not remembering if she’d been sitting on it and hoping to god that it didn’t go all the way through and she had a wet patch there, too. It hadn’t and she exhaled in relief and wished she’d stuck with her jeans.

Then a prickling realization began to creep in.

There was no way. Could they…? There was no way they could smell… that , at this distance, right?

God, this was one of the few times she wished she could smell, just so she could know if she was embarrassing herself or not. She suddenly remembered the look on Donnie’s face that one morning he came into the kitchen after she’d gotten off thinking about him in the shower. She’d dismissed the idea that he could smell her lingering arousal then, but now…

Quickly she stood up, the wetness between her legs suddenly feeling like a freaking beacon everyone could see because apparently four of them might actually be able to smell it.

“Don’s right. It’s getting close to time. I better, uh, start getting everything out,” she said hurriedly, now desperate to excuse herself.

“Want me to come help?” April made to get up, but Elise motioned her down again.

“No, no. Stay, watch. I got it.”

“But we’re almost done, Ellie! Just two more matches!” Mike whined a little and gave Don a pointed look because he was still basically body blocking him. If she hadn’t been so mortified in this moment her cavewoman brain might have been even more turned on at his protective stance.

Shit, fuck, shit. Why did he have a protective stance? Did he really know what that smell was, but Mike didn’t? Was he just trying to save her from embarrassment? How could he know? With the whole secrecy from humans thing she’d just assumed they were all, well, inexperienced , with such things.

Was it just instinctual? No human man she ever knew talked about it. And why would a turtle be tuned into a human’s pheromones?

Mind spinning, she tried to rationalize that you couldn’t know what a scent was if it wasn’t paired with the visual source…right? Like, if you never encountered fire or burning, would you know what smoke was if you were to smell it?

Oh jeez. Oh fuck .

“Sorry, Mike. Gotta do it for the wings,” she smiled tightly, walking backwards, desperate to remove herself.

“Mike, let her go,” Raph rumbled, then turned his head toward Elise. There was a very distinct look in his eye, a kind of knowing that somehow the others didn’t have, even Don, and it made Elise want to disappear from humiliation. However, Raph simply gave her a soft smile and said, “thanks for starting dinner, Lawrence. Have a cold one ready for me, yeah?” To which she agreed with false cheeriness and then turned on her heel to make her escape.

She walked back to the house with Gio at her heels, his sixth sense for when someone was headed for the kitchen ever active. She imagined she could feel everyone’s eyes on her and when she was almost out of earshot she heard Mikey speak.

“Seriously, what is that? It's making me drool.”

Raph’s low and irritated response of, “enough, Mikey,” drifted after her just as she hit the bottom porch step.

Fuck.

Dog Days of Summer - Chapter 13 - DebauchedSloth - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2025)

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