Chapter Text
The O’Neil farm was quiet at night. The only sound being the trees bellowing in the breeze. Donnie wasn’t exactly paying attention to that, however.
What he was paying attention to, was the most grating human he had ever met, interrupting his peaceful quiet.
“Come on D, it’s just one drink! What? Scared you’ll go have some fun for once.” The human pest that is Casey Jones teases. His voice mocking as he waved an already half-empty whiskey bottle in front of Donnie's face.
Donnie huffed, already getting a headache just from engaging with this absolute buffoon. “It’s literally a toxin. Alcohol is classified as a carcinogen, but I don't expect you to understand that, Jones. You can enjoy that slow-burning cancer invitation on your own.” Donnie hissed as he pushed the bottle out of his face somewhat aggressively, making Casey stumble back a bit.
He was maybe being a little snappy today, but Donnie honestly couldn't remember the last time he slept. Leo had been recovering in a bathtub for a month now while New York was overrun by the Kraang, their father was dead and their home was destroyed.
Every time he closed his eyes that's all he could see.
He wasn't sure anyone would blame him if he'd never be able to sleep ever again.
Casey blinked, Donnie could smell a little alcohol wafting off him already. Well, at least now he knew where the first half of the bottle of whiskey went.
Donnie ran a hand down his face.
His three-fingered, disgusting mutant hand— He stopped that train of thought before he could spiral into his usual bouts of self-hatred and insecurity.
“Come on gap tooth, it'll help you relax. Maybe you'll be even able to get some sleep.” Casey pressed on, and Donnie could practically feel that slight smirking, trying to charm, annoying Casey Jones grin that made him want to punt the idiot like a football.
‘Relax?’ Donnie's brain hissed. How could he relax right now? They were in a dire situation.
“Sleep? Don’t even. Alcohol doesn’t ‘help you sleep,’ it knocks you unconscious while wrecking your REM cycles. That’s why you wake up feeling like you wrestled a raccoon instead of well-rested, puck-head.” Donnie snarked. Casey huffed, rolling his eyes before (ungracefully) plopping down in the spare stool beside Donnie like he owned the place.
“Come on Donnie, take a break. Have a drink with your buddy, Casey Jones.” Casey said, less teasing and more pleading for some reason. Like Casey wanted to get Donnie's mind off the paranoia and grief that plagued all of them like a disease.
“Us? Buddies? Since when?” Donnie said dryly, raising his bonebrow in an unamused stare.
Casey just stared at him for a moment, looking like he wanted to either hit Donnie upside the head or just drink the rest of the whiskey bottle himself.
“Cut the shit, Don. Just have a drink. Let loose. If you drink the whole bottle I promise I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” Casey said, a smirk forming on his face as he held up his pinky to Donnie for a pinky promise.
Donnie stared at the hand in offense. Didn't Casey know Donnie didn't even have a pinky?
—but then
Donnie did the regrettable choice of considering Casey's offer.
Casey was a chatterbox. Always talking and never saying anything truly worth listening to. He would constantly come into the barn, mostly to get into petty squabbles with the team's resident genius, but him agreeing to leave? Now that was a good offer, maybe it was self-destructive but Donnie felt like wallowing in his misery right now, not dealing with the human version of a beagle.
Donnie stared into the bottle of whiskey, looking at his tired and stressed reflection in the golden colored alcohol.
‘I look worse than usual.’
He thought, his mask was askew from him pulling on the tails of his mask (a nervous tic), and his eyes had never looked so…
Tired…almost empty.
He tore his gaze off himself and back to the drink.
‘It’s just one drink? I'm a mutant, it's not like I'm some lightweight human right?’
Donnie considered, letting out a soft whistle through his gap in his teeth before clicking his tongue in annoyance, picking up the whiskey bottle, and grimacing slightly.
“Ugh…but you better leave, immediately afterwards,” Donnie warned, poking Casey hard in the chest with his finger.
Casey's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.
“Woah! Wait seriously, dude? You're gonna take a drink?” Casey beamed, mouth forming that grating wide smile with crooked and missing teeth.
Donnie took a deep breath.
He could do this, it was just alcohol…people did it all the time, right?
Donnie tried to calm himself down and kept down his nervousness as best he could.
He stared at the bottle like it might bite him if he wasn't careful.
He took a deep breath—
—Okay.
He lifted the bottle to his beak and—
Gulp
Gulp—Gulp—Gulp—
Donnie pulled the bottle off his beak with a gag after drinking it in one go.
Poison was definitely the word the describe it.
Donnie coughed, sputtering slightly as he caught his breath.
“Well? Time to g-go…jo—” Donnie starts saying before his words start the slur as the alcohol kicked in fast he made a quick mental note to study why he was feeling so strange so quickly, wondering if maybe mutants had a sensitivity to alcohol.
But that thought would be forgotten in less than five minutes.
Because Casey didn't leave.
In fact, Casey was drinking even more.
“—And that's how I got banned from the public library. *hic*” Casey slurred as he spoke, a drunk smile on his face.
Donnie nodded along, probably barely understanding a lick of what Casey said.
“Yeah…makes…*hic*…sense…s’cause you drew on the books doesn't mean they can… *hic* ban you…*hic*” Donnie slurred, sounding and feeling completely wasted as can be, putting up one of his thick fingers in that know-it-all, Donnie has an opinion, way.
Casey nodded, eyes brightened (and also very wasted) “That's what I'm saying, man! *hic* how would they even know it's me that drew boobs in the margins?” Casey giggled, leaning into Donnie’s personal space, his hand around Donnie’s shoulder as the two of them giggled.
Casey took another swig of an unmarked alcohol bottle (Donnie has no clue where he keeps this stuff,) and rested his head on Donnie’s shoulder.
“You’re cold, D.”
Casey hummed, nuzzling slightly into Donnie's shoulder. Donnie was too drunk to even go on his usual, ‘I'm a turtle, why wouldn't I be cold?’ rant that he usually does when Casey comments on the temperature of his skin.
But Donnie was currently focused on Casey's hot breath on his cold neck. Letting out a small chirp at the feeling, too out of it to be able to hold it back.
Casey's eyes peered up at him when he made the sound, chocolate colored eyes swirling in curiosity and something else that Donnie couldn't quite place.
“What was that, D?” Casey asked Donnie in that flirty voice he usually used with April.
Donnie blinked at him lethargically.
“Wha…oh…it was a *hic*…chirp.” Donnie slurred, shivering slightly at Casey’s breathing on his neck turning heavier.
“Hot.”
Was all Casey said as he nuzzled farther into Donnie’s neck, his mouth now right against the cold skin.
‘Hot? What did that mean?’ Donnie barely had time to question it before Casey was purposely breathing down his neck, making Donnie let out more chirping noises while he shivered at the feeling.
Donnie would be embarrassed in the morning, but right now?
He couldn't bring himself to care.
The turtles usually tried to hide their more animalistic traits from Casey and April. Like shedding, their tails, and worst of all the noises they could make. They all agreed to do it out of “privacy” but there was an unspoken fear among them.
’What if we grossed them out?’
But Donnie should've known Casey Jones wouldn't care, in fact, the boy seemed keen on hearing more.
“I like those noises, Don…why have I never heard them before?” Casey whined drunkenly, now seemingly upset he hasn't heard Donnie chrip before, the idiot.
Donnie huffed, head lolling slightly to the side as he gave Casey more room to breathe on his neck. He honestly didn't know why he was letting Casey do this, but it felt sorta…good.
“Huh?… It’s *hic* because me and my brothers didn't want to gross you and April out.” Donnie slurred, his eyes closing as he felt Casey’s breath on his neck again.
But why did it feel different?—
Oh.
Oh .
That wasn't just Casey’s breath on his neck anymore.
That was Casey’s lips.
“C-Case…what are you?—” He cut himself off with an uncontrollably loud chirp as Casey kissed his neck.
The barn air felt heavy, charged with something both of them refused to acknowledge.
“Just seeing…” Casey responded as he kissed along the side of Donnie’s neck, working his way up to the underside of the turtle's jaw.
Donnie just…let him, and both of them had no clue why.
“Can I kiss you, D?” Casey whispered against Donnie’s scaled skin.
There was a beat of silence. Donnie’s eyes widened slightly as he processed the question, and Casey’s gaze locked on him.
And against everything in him, all of his nerves, all of his stress…against everything he should be doing instead of getting drunk with his brother's best friend.
Donnie nodded his head.
Calloused hands met Donnie’s cheeks, cupping his face softly. Donnie felt Casey squish his cheeks experimentally for a moment before in one swift motion, he pulled Donnie’s head down.
Donnie's beak met human lips, he had always dreamed of April being his first kiss, but now he was kissing Casey Jones.
Weirdly enough, this felt more correct than April ever did in his fantasies.
Donnie was just following Casey's lead as best he could but Casey was kissing him with a surprising amount of passion which was making Donnie’s head spin like a merry-go-round.
Before Donnie knew it he lost himself in the rhythm of Casey's lips against his beak.
One of Donnie's hands was tangled in Casey's (surprisingly not greasy for once), hair while Donnie’s other hand rested on Casey’s back. Using his hand to pull him in closer.
Casey was running his free hand over Donnie’s chest, feeling over the grooves of Donnie’s plastron. While his other hand was firmly gripping the purple tails of Donnie’s mask, and Donnie let him use them to either pull him closer or move his head side to side.
It was heated, and it got even more heated as Casey slipped his tongue into Donnie’s mouth, the noise in the barn dissolving into a heated make-out session, and the sound of Casey’s breathy noises as well as Donnie’s chirps and churrs.
Donnie could taste the alcohol on Caseys tongue but found he didn't care. The two of them broke apart for air before immediately going back in for more, like they were getting drunk on each other.
They both lost track of time, kissing until the buzz had started to fade. They separated, Caseys lips swollen and bruised and Donnies beak bleeding slightly from Casey biting it. They were both breathing heavily as they stared at each other with heated expressions.
Wait.
Oh.
Oh no.
The color drained out of Donnie’s face and he let go of his hold of Casey like the other boy was on fire.
His mind screamed ‘I JUST KISSED CASEY JONES.’ as Casey blinked at him in confusion.
Donnie was avoiding eye contact at all costs. Increasingly ashamed and embarrassed.
He had kissed his brother's best friend! The guy who had a crush on the same girl he did! The hockey player who annoyed him to hell and back, what on earth was he thinking?!
Then, before he could spiral more Casey huffed. “Never talk about this again?” Casey offered, giving Donnie a dry expression.
Silence.
“Y-Yes!” Donnie squeaked, burying his face in his hands.
He could hear Casey sighing before the boy stood up from the stool he was sitting in.
“Figured…night, D.” Casey said almost bitterly as he left, the once peaceful night now quiet again. But Donnie’s mind was anything but quiet as he ran through fifteen scenarios in his head all at once. All about how this was the worst decision of his life and April and Raph would be so pissed at him they'd never speak to him again.
But slowly, his eyes became heavy and Donnie’s mind shut off for the first time in a month as he slumped against his desk.
Then, he was asleep for the first time in three days.