(A/N: Why? Because I love putting Raphael in terrible positions, and Casey has always struck me as one of those annoying 'No homo, bro' kind of guys. Choose any version or verse of turtle you want. I was thinking 2014/16 Bay movies for their size, but it's not specified or important.
This is EXCEEDINGLY EXPLICIT, written as an excuse to not finish the next chapter of Antithesis yet *nervous sweat*, but also because it's been sitting in my drive forever and ever and I'm airing out my files.
Srsly tho, this is as naughty and descriptive as I could make it. Yay for my first time writing the 'boys with cunts' trope! Any and all anti-gay sentiments are purely Casey Jones, not me, because like 95% of what I write is slash, c'mon.)
Casey Jones was not gay, and that was something he was very proud of. He'd never had a gay thought in his life, which he also counted as an accomplishment, especially with all of the pro-homo junk that seemed to have turned New York into a rainbow plastered cesspool of weirdness.
His father and uncles had loved the fact that he'd been the poster child for heterosexuality growing up, constantly covered in cuts and bruises from picking fights and jumping off of random shit for no reason at all.
Well, all but one. Uncle Felix was the only one that frowned whenever Casey came in with two layers of skin peeled away from his knee or sporting a fresh black eye. He'd been the one to clean and bandage the minor wounds, clicking his tongue and shaking his head at things Casey hadn't understood.
"I wish they didn't make you feel like you had to this," he'd say in his quiet voice whenever Casey asked him what was wrong, swabbing the scrapes with alcohol. "Your daddy... I wish he didn't use you to make his points, C.J, that's all. For your sake, I pray you turn out the way he wants."
Casey didn't remember much more of Uncle Felix besides that- he stopped coming around after Dad encouraged Casey to start calling him Uncle Fairy. Years later, Casey still hadn't plucked up the courage to talk to his father about it. Either way, 'No Homo' became his creed throughout his life.
Aside from gay stuff though, Casey considered himself a pretty open minded person. He'd have to be, with the crazy shit he started dealing with right after he moved downstate to live in Manhattan.
Ancient Japanese themed gangs with killer psycho broads and an overlord that had a severe blade fetish? Cool. Giant talking turtles and rats? Awesome. Girlfriend who was best chums with aforementioned turtles and rats, and sometimes spent more time with them than him? Sure.
Eventually becoming friendly enough (and then actually pretty tight with) one of the turtles enough to sit up, watch tv, and talk shit any given weekend whenever that turtle got sick of bumbling around the sewer, or had yet another argument with his older brother, or just wanted to get out for a while? Why not?
But as strange as the scene in Casey's living room would have looked to an outsider, Raph's visits were typically as normal as any regular bros-beer-and pizza- session could be. They started off, progressed, and ended mostly the same every time.
He hadn't noticed anything strange about the most recent hangout day, at least not at first.
Raphael had stormed in muttering darkly about some issue he had with Leo, which wasn't out of the ordinary at all, but it had been weird that he wouldn't tell Casey what the fight was about no matter how much he pushed and prodded, thinking that maybe a good rant might get it off Raph's mind.
He'd started blinking a lot after the first baseball game and in the middle of the movie they were watching while waiting for the second one, not really noticeable until he started doing it like a neurotic, rubbing at his eyes and blinking like he either couldn't see straight or was getting ready to burst into tears (but to be fair, they'd been watching Avatar, the one with the big blue people, and they'd been at the part where the tree gets bombed to hell and anybody with a damn heart got a little misty eyed, so he didn't mention it for both their prides).
He did say something once that part was over, and Raph was still blinking and rubbing.
"Hey man, ya good?" Casey asked, tearing his gaze away from the action on screen to give his friend a concerned stare.
"Y-yeah," Raph replied, continuing to scrub at his watering eyes with the back of his hand. "Probly a eyelash, or somethin'."
Casey frowned, confused. "Uh...I thought ya guys didn't have eyelashes, or like...hair at all," he said. He'd seen them up close and without their masks enough to know that.
"'S probly one a' yers, then. Don says humans are always dropping hair all over tha place. He says ya shed like dogs."
Casey bristled slightly. "Says the bum with a giant hairy rat fer a dad," he shot back.
The topic eventually dropped, and his attention turned back to the movie, at least until the fidgeting started. The sweating started soon after that, then the shivering, and almost before he knew it, Casey was staring at the broadside of his own bathroom door after it slammed shut in his face with Raphael having run behind it, looking seconds away from redepositing the meat lover's supreme they'd torn through right there in the hallway.
"RAPH?!" Casey yelled, slamming his fist into the sturdy wood. "Ya alright? Ya sick're somethin', man?"
He'd known the turtles for all of three years, almost, and he'd never seen or heard of any of them getting sick. He thought he remembered April gushing about how the mutagen kept them healthy, or something like that.
Concern morphed into chilly fear when the only response he received was a long, drawn out, pained groan that sounded like it was being dragged out of him by a rusty hanger.
That didn't sound healthy at all.
Oh, shit. Donatello already hated him, and so did Leonardo to a certain degree- it would be just his fucking luck for Raph to kick the damn bucket on his bathroom floor, in his apartment.
"Ya want me ta call somebody? Leo, or-"
He jumped as the door rattled like it had been kicked in a panicked spasm. "No! No..." Raph grunted, as soon as Casey said his brother's name. "Y-Ya can't call 'im, Case, not Leo. C-call Don, or Mikey or somethin'."
Casey blanched, running a hand backwards through his hair nervously. He understood holding a slight grudge about...whatever they'd fallen out about, but that was a little extreme. "Raph, man, are ya sure? I think-"
I think if Leo finds out you got sick and I didn't tell him, he's gonna make me disappear in the middle of the night. Dude was the head honcho of a family of ninjas, and Casey didn't need that kind of drama. He'd seen Leo's scary side only once before, and he had no desire to see it again.
"Raph, I really think Leo should-"
"C-Case, please, he's gonna b-be a dick about it. Don't..."
Raph sounded so fucked up, and he'd actually said 'please'.
Must be serious, shit. "Alright man, alright, I'll call Donnie. Ya got yer phone on ya?" Casey asked.
Raphael didn't respond verbally- his shell cell came sliding under the doorjamb a second later. Casey stooped to pick it up and leaned his shoulder against the wall, tapping only slightly frantically at the device until he reached contacts and scrolling down to Donatello's number.
"I'm callin' 'im," Casey said loudly, pressing the phone to his ear and almost recoiling at how hot it was to the touch, like it had been sitting in an oven and not briefly in Raph's hand.
It rang four times before the line connected, and Donatello's nasally, uptight voice bled through. "*Hello?*"
Casey gritted his teeth- this was gonna be a fun conversation.
"Hey, uh, Don? It's Casey," he said, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. "Raph's over, and uh, he's...sick, I guess?" he finished.
"*...Uh-huh...?*"
Donatello sounded a lot less concerned than he should have, at least in Casey's opinion. "Look, he wanted me ta call ya," he explained, huffing. "Are you guys gonna come an' get 'im, or..." Casey hedged, glancing at the still closed bathroom door. No more noise was coming from behind it, but he couldn't tell if Raph was listening in or just plain passed out.
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end, and then an explosion of air that was half laugh, half sigh. "*Sick?*" Donnie repeated. "*Okay. What are his symptoms?*"
Casey blinked, still bewildered at how...not worried Donnie was. "Uh...shaking, sweating...his vision might be a little messed up...an' I think he's startin' ta run a fever. He might'a puked, but he closed the door on me and I'm not sure."
The laughing sigh came again, and when Donatello spoke next he sounded almost...happy. "*Hm. Well, I know what it is, and so does he, but tell my darling brother he'll have to wait if he wants an escort home. I'm busy with a project, Leo's down with a migraine and Mikey's visiting Leatherhead. The reception is terrible that deep in the tunnels, I'll never reach him.*"
"W-Wh-huh?" Casey sputtered in disbelief, removing the phone from the side of his head to stare at it like he'd misheard. "Yer just gonna leave him here?!" He shook his head fervently. "Come on, Donnie. I ain't no mutant nurse. What about Splinter?"
"*Master Splinter is...not around at the moment,*" Donnie told him, after an awkward pause. "*And he's not too comfortable with the surface.*" The snark came back to his voice directly. "*But trust me Casey, Raph will live,*" he said archly. "*I know that for a fact.*"
His superior tone made Casey's knuckles ache, even more than it usually did. "That ain't tha point. What tha fuck am I s'posed ta do with him?" Casey growled. "What's wrong with Raph?"
"*Ask him yourself,*" Donatello snickered, definitely smug and definitely mocking him. "*I have to go. We'll be up there when we can. And Casey?*" he said.
"What?" Casey barked.
"*Tell Raphael we told him so, please. Leo told him so, in particular. This is his own fault.*"
The phone hung up with a click in his ear, and the dial tone was the only response to his frustrated curses.
(A/N: This is a short two-shot! Another chapter will most likely make an appearance later today, and the next Antithesis shortly after that.)