So I know there are plenty of FF pieces dealing with turtles "under the influence", but none of the ones I've read have really focused on the very first time our favorite ninjas tried alcohol. So I was curious. And we all know curiosity breeds...fanfiction of course!
Anywho, I know I'm not the funniest person on earth, but I tried my best. My apologies in advance. This is what happens when people start getting ideas.
Disclaimer: Alright, you got me; they're not my turtles. I'm just borrowing. And of course you all know Snee's art by now.
Enjoy and as always, let me know what you think!
The four brothers huddled over the kitchen table, crowns hovering above its center, blue, red, purple, and orange tails hanging past their shoulders as they stared down at the four cases of beer.
They'd already read the note that was attached to the side of one of the cases, on which was scribbled in sloppy Casey-like handwriting:
Wish I could be there to join you but April ain't doin too good—flu's a bitch. Happy 21st. Let us know how it goes. Drink up!
P.S. Raph don't hog it all. Don, Leo…You gotta at least try it. Mike, take a vid for me.
"I don't know about this," Leo said dubiously, lips pinching in one corner.
"Aw, don't be such a square, Leo," Mikey teased, elbowing his eldest brother lightly.
"I'm just saying, maybe we should wait to do this with Casey."
Raph snorted. "You wait for Casey then you'll have no choice but to get straight up wasted. Either take a sip now, or have him hold ya down later; take your pick."
Leo scoffed. "I'd like to see him try."
"Ooooh," Mikey snickered.
"I'm with Leo," Donnie sighed. "I mean, we don't have to."
"Ah come on," Raph groaned. "It's a rite of passage."
"Since when have we ever consented to human rituals?" Donnie countered flatly.
"And didn't you already have your first drink like five years ago?" Leo challenged, one brow raised.
Raph shrugged uncaringly. "I do believe that's irrelevant here, bro. Whether I did or not, today is your first regardless."
"You know what alcohol does to you don't you?" Donnie cut in. "It's a depressant that interferes with the brain's communication pathways and can effect the—"
"Alright Braniac," Raph interrupted, snatching a bottle from one case and popping off the cap. "You first."
Donnie grimaced and shook his head, waving his hands before him with rejection. "I'd really rather not. I prefer to keep a sharp mind. And I'd like not to poison my immune system—"
"One sip won't kill ya block head," Raph grunted, shoving the bottle into his brother's open mouth and tipping it forward.
Donatello's cheeks bulged and streams of brownish liquid dripped down his chin. He yanked his face away from the bottle, swallowed with a grimace and choked violently, doubling over as he hacked with disgust.
Raph and Mikey howled with laughter. Leo grimaced.
"It's revolting!" Donnie exclaimed, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as though the taste might leave with a lick of open air.
Mikey continued to snicker.
"You are the one that drinks coffee," Raph said, taking a swig from the bottle. His expression remained placidly amused as he pulled the bottle away from his face, ignoring the way that Mikey watched him expectantly and Leo watched him uncertainly.
The red-banded brother pursed his lips as though he was contemplating the taste, then after a moment, took another swig and pulled out a second bottle. He popped off the cap and handed it over to Mikey who hardly hesitated. The brother in orange threw down a giant swig, tossing his head back, and screwed up his face as though he'd sunk his teeth into a whole lemon.
"Ugh," he groaned, holding out the bottle at arm's length.
Raph continued to laugh under his breath, watching his youngest brother and complacently drinking the rest of the first bottle while Mikey thought for a moment then brought his bottle back to his lips.
"There ya go!" Raph exclaimed slapping his brother on the shell. "That's one."
He pulled out another bottle, popped the cap, swirled its contents tauntingly, then held the glass out to his older brother.
"Alright, Fearless, your turn."
Leonardo wrinkled his nose hesitantly, gazing at the bottle as though it was a contract he was meant to sign that would have him hand his soul over to a tengu.
It seemed such a base activity, drinking. He didn't understand the point in it, and from Donnie and Mikey's reactions, he was pretty positive he wouldn't like the way it tasted anyway. But Raph was staring him down—his provocative, stubborn, persuasive brother in red, who had already played his ace by calling Fearless. That's what Raph constantly wanted to disprove, what the others expected him to be—always fearless.
What would one sip hurt anyway?
Leo sighed and reluctantly snatched the bottle from his brother's hand, ignoring the way Raph's lips curled up.
Already pinching his mouth as though he'd swallowed something bitter, Leo slowly raised the glass to his lips, too aware of the way the three sets of eyes watched him.
He touched the rim of the bottle to his skin and quickly tossed down a swig, which immediately pulled at his face, twisting it into a grimace before it settled back to its usual blank slate and he peered at the bottle uncertainly.
Donnie was correct. It was revolting. A wheat-y, almost floral kind of bitter. Very aromatic though he wasn't sure it was very appealing. And yet…
He looked back up at Raph who raised a brow, and without another word, did as Mikey had and took another sip.
Raphael smirked proudly and held up his bottle in cheers with a nod. "Welcome to the party, Fearless."
Leo's grin was subtle—nonexistent if you were to ask anyone other than his immediate younger brother. He touched the base of his glass to Raph's and took another swig.
...
He couldn't remember much of anything.
Mikey might've jumped on the couch like it was a trampoline—before he threw up in the kitchen sink…On second thought, maybe it was after.
Raph may have challenged Leo to an arm wrestling match, which Leo would have been sure he'd won if only they'd been right side up.
Donnie may have secluded himself on the opposite side of the lair, sitting atop his lab table with crossed legs as though touching the floor meant being contaminated by whatever buzz the rest of his brothers were on…But that was most likely before Raph tipped something in Donnie's coffee, because it was definitely after that that Donnie sat with crossed legs on top of the television instead, eating from a jar of peanut butter with chopsticks and giggling uncontrollably about something called Darwinism.
Donnie hated peanut butter.
Leo might have discovered that High School Musical was playing on Disney Channel and left it on, and he and his brothers might have been screaming the lyrics to "We're All in This Together" as they leapt around the room arm in arm, nearly whiplashing Mikey into the pool in the process.
It was probably after that that Donnie and Mikey switched masks and weapons because Mikey somehow managed to get stuck holding a bowl of water to the ceiling with Donnie's staff for an hour or two, and Donnie might've been successful in getting one of Mikey's nunchucks caught on the stand that housed the pole arms without realizing it then tipped it over when he yanked on the chuck and sent a blade flying across the room to spear the practice dummy that Raph might've been cuddling at that exact moment.
Raph could have laughed at this and then told Donnie that he was still too sober. And that was definitely before Donnie saw an opportune moment in Mikey's predicament and took a Sharpie to the youngest's shell, scribbling a bunch of arrows pointing up and then writing F U Gravity! beneath them.
And all the while, Master Splinter might have been watching patiently from the shadows as he sipped on a cup of tea.
It might have happened—but Leo wasn't sure.
It could all very well have simply been a dream of broken bits of randomness—starring the one and only family of mutant turtles and Japanese rat living in the sewers.
He preferred to think of it as such, because it made more sense that way.
For surely he'd have never really ended up in Raph's room by the end of the night, lying next to him in his hammock, listening to him weep out a confession, and then turning over to practically lie on top of him and give him a poorly aimed kiss on the mouth rather than the cheek and whisper, "I love you too."