Leonardo Tries Drinking
((A/N: At really mundane things. Enjoy.))
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Heroes in a half-shell. Turtle power.
Splinter taught them to be ninja teens. Leonardo leads. Donatello does machines.
Raphael is cool but rude. Michelangelo is a party dude.
“C’mon Leo! Just do it already!”
Leo frowns at the contents of the tiny drinking glass in front of him, reaching, wrapping his fingers around it. It smells awful whatever it is, and he’s sure it’ll taste just as bad.
He looks up at all the people around him, their flushed, sweaty faces and glazed over eyes all looking in his direction. Raph was closest, and the one that had poured him the shot. He was across from him, arms folded on the other side of the counter top staring smugly into his face.
Casey was not far behind, posted up next to the fridge, a huge sweat stain blossoming down the front of his gray tank top. Mikey and Donnie were behind him sitting on either side of the cooler, on the inside of which was the long since melted remnants of spiked jello.
‘What was the point of this?’, he asked himself as he looked out the window at the other darkened buildings surrounding April’s home.
Drinking in a blackout? It wasn’t a productive use of time at all—and yet here he was participating.
“Why couldn’t we do this at your house Casey? I don’t think April will appreciate coming home to finding her house a mess.”
April. Had no one else seriously thought of her? It was pitch black out. What if she was attacked?
“You should call her.”
“Quit stallin’ ya green mook! April don’t get off till’ eleven! She’s safe where she’s at!”
Leo frowns. ‘You drunk fuck. You have no way of knowing that.’
He keeps those thoughts to himself and looks down in the glass again. Raphael’s hot, sour smelling breath infiltrates his nostrils.
“Drink bitch.”, he says, leaning in towards him, sneering.
Disgusting. If he could only see himself right now..
Leo takes a deep breath and knocks back the shot of liquid.
‘I’ll do better.’, he thinks.
‘I won’t look like that.’
‘My breath won’t wreak like that.’
Because why? Because Leonardo leads. That’s why.
It’s awful. It tastes unbelievably fowl. Like gasoline and cough syrup mixed together! It burns his throat and he coughs into his hand, spraying through his fingers down onto the counter top. He wipes his chin, sputters and snatches some napkins off the roll to scrub his tongue with.
Raph, Casey, Don, and Mike erupt with laughter, stamping their feet and hammering their fists on the objects nearest them.
‘Okay.’ ‘I cannot drink.’, he thinks, flushing with embarrassment, grabbing another napkin to clean off the mess he made on the counter.
‘Drinking is overrated anyway. Who cares?’
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