You're human. Their ally. You've been with them for a long time. And with Leo for too long.

There are feelings. Both of them. But neither of them dares say it out loud.

The base was decorated...well, as much as possible for a sewer.

The garlands Donnie had fixed up from old wires. The crooked Christmas tree Raph had pulled up from the surface, muttering something about the "idiocy of tradition." Splinter was quietly brewing tea. Mikey beamed, as if it was his personal holiday.

You laughed, adjusting the tinsel, standing on a stool.

"Careful," — Leo's voice came from behind you.

He held the stool by the edge. Too close. Too warm.

"I won't fall," — you answered quietly.

"I'll still be there."

You came down. And only then did you notice.

Silence.

Mikey covers his mouth with his hand. Raph turns away, but still chuckles. Donnie slowly raises an eyebrow. Splinter… suspiciously silent.

You slowly look up.

Above you.

A small sprig of mistletoe hanging from a pipe.

You freeze. Leo, too.

"MIKEY," — Raph exhales at the same time.

"WHAT? It's tradition!" — he spreads his hands innocently. — "If two people stand under the mistletoe, they have to kiss!"

"It's... not necessary," — Donnie says quietly, but he smirks.

You feel your cheeks begin to heat.

Leo stands across from you.

Too close. Too still.

"That's stupid," — he tries to say calmly. But his voice is a little hoarse.

You swallow.

"Yeah... stupid."

No one moves.

Mikey begins to count slowly:

"One..."

"Mikey, don't," — Raph hisses through his teeth.

"Two..."

"I swear..."

"Three—"

You suddenly raise your hand and cover Mikey's mouth.

"Enough."

Silence.

You pull your hand away.

You look at Leo. He looks at you.

Not as a leader. Not as a teammate. Just... him.

"We don't have to," — he says quietly. — "I don't want you to feel pressure."

"I don't feel any pressure," — you reply, almost in a whisper.

Pause.

"I'm just... scared," — you admit suddenly.

He freezes.

"What?"

You exhale.

"What if we mess this up?"

He takes a small step closer.

"What if... we’ve been feeling all this for a long time?"

Your heart is beating loudly. Too loudly.

Mikey collapses dramatically onto the couch:

"I'm going to die from the strain."

Raph throws a pillow at him.

But you don't hear.

Leo slowly raises his hand. Not to his face. To your palm.

He interlaces his fingers.

"If you don't want to... we can just stand here," — he says quietly. — "Under the mistletoe. Like idiots."