#anyway have a meetcute (part 2 because they technically already met?)

[coffee-n-some-cream]

Here's a little Rasey meet cute snippet from a bigger project I'm working on. The story isn't Raph/Casey centric and I wasn't sure I was even gonna put the ship in, but apparently I can't help myself!

Casey Jones was on the hunt. Shrouded in a dark hood and menacing mask, he lurked in the shadows, watching over his city from the rooftops and striking fear into the hearts of friends and foe alike.

The lead of the pencil Casey was sketching with broke at the tip, and he sighed as he pushed more out. One sneaker-clad foot hung down, tapping a rhythm against the fire escape. His earbuds hung in a loop around his neck and pushed out music as loud as they could, the sound tinny and crunchy. His mask was pushed up onto the top of his head, and he stuck his tongue out as he concentrated on the drawing, filling in his hoodie with hatching. His own dark form crouched on the page, intense gaze peering out from his skull-like mask. He hummed, lightly sketched out a cape flowing dramatically from his back, then frowned and erased it. Nah, that looked stupid.

He glanced up to check the surrounding alleyways and streets for any nefarious criminals.

From the highest point, he could survey all of Brooklyn. He was an all-seeing watchdog, ready to sink his teeth into the neck of any foolish trespasser.

A breeze tousled his messy hair. He watched an empty plastic bag dance down an alley, listened to the rustle of a cat digging through the trash. Nothing. He sighed. Another dead night. Maybe he needed to take his act to another part of the city?

Movement along the rooftops caught his eye. He squinted and leaned forward, peering at the shadowy figure that was sprinting across roofs and hopping alleyway gaps with a speed and grace that was, frankly, unfair. Was that…? Casey shoved his hand in his backpack and frantically fished out his binoculars, wanting to get a good look at the person before they ran out of sight. But lucky for him, as he raised them to his eyes, the person paused on one of the rooftops and didn’t move.

A burly build, green skin, red bandana hanging around his shoulders. “Hello again,” Casey muttered to himself, zooming the binoculars in to get a better look at him. He was slumped over the edge of the rooftop, resting his arms on the ledge and letting his head hang down.

An old challenger returns.

Casey threw his things into his backpack, pulled his mask down over his face, and scrambled up. The clanging of the fire escape followed him as he made for the turtle mutant.

The night air was cool and felt good against the warmth of his skin. Raph took deep breaths, trying to let it soak into him, to temper the burning that was starting to choke him from the inside out, but it didn’t help any.

His brothers' eyes flashed through his mind. Worried, gentle, caring, unsure. Unsure what to say to him, what to do with him, but always trying to be understanding. They were everything but what they should be, which was angry. Resentful. They should even hate him a little bit. He knew they wouldn't. Couldn't. But they should.

He dug his fingernails into his arm, willing the skin to break and bleed. It didn't, of course. It held firm like soft leather. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, the lump in his throat unbearable.

“Fuck,” he muttered, before taking one more deep breath and forcing himself to relax. His face, his throat, his back, his chest, his hands, all loosened the impossible tension he held them under. And slowly, his chin trembled, his lips pulled back, his throat pushed, and a sob fell out of his mouth.

He ducked his head down. It didn’t matter that he was entirely alone. His hands went over his face as another sob tore through him and tears started to pool in his palms. His breathing was haggard and quick no matter how he tried to deepen it, and his shoulders heaved. He let it go, knowing that the tears and the snot and the cries were the only way to loosen the knot in his chest, to quell the burning in his throat.

A shuffling of feet sounded to his left. He whipped his head up, jumping back and reaching one hand for the sai at his side.

“Woah there.” Hands up in surrender, the guy came to a halt. Hockey mask over his face, golf bag of old sports equipment on his back… it was the guy from the park. Casey Jones. Fucking Christ. “I come in peace.”

Raph eyed him up and down, taking in the relaxed stance and unassuming gaze. He let his hand fall from his sai and turned so he was staring over the ledge again, very aware of how he must look. Great. This total asshole of a stranger had caught him alone on a rooftop, bawling his eyes out. It made his hackles rise, and he opened his mouth to tell the guy to fuck off.

A little hiccup came out instead, and with that, he lost every ounce of energy he had to be upset. Instead of saying anything, he just gave the guy a watery glare.

Seeing that Raph wasn’t about to attack him, Casey moved a bit closer and leaned one hand casually against the ledge, propping the other one on his hip. He gave Raph a lidded look. “We meet again.”

Raph cocked a brow at him. “Uh-huh. What do you want?”

Casey shrugged. “Well, I was gonna challenge you to a duel, but seeing as you’re in the middle of crying, I’m gonna assume you’re not in the headspace for it.”

“I’m not in the middle of crying,” Raph lied, unsure why he was even trying.

“You very clearly are crying.”

“Also, a duel? Really? What, are we gonna turn our backs? Take ten paces?” He laughed a little at the ridiculous image. “Draw pistols?”

Raph couldn’t see it behind the mask, but Casey smiled at him. The turtle mutant looked so different without the mask over his eyes, face open and bare. He was an absolute mess. His face was covered in tears and snot, his eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks were flushed, he looked miserable. His glare was still biting, his watery laugh was still deep and full. Something about it all tugged at Casey’s chest. 

“Okay, fine, wise guy.” He stepped closer so he was right next to the mutant, put his back against the ledge, and tipped the mask back so it was on top of his head. “What do you wanna call it?”

“A fight.” The turtle wiped some of the snot off his face with the back of his hand, then turned his head to look at Casey full-on. “It’s just a fight.”

Casey sat under the heavy stare of both amber eyes for a moment. Then he rolled his eyes. “Pssshhh. Boring! Duel sounds way cooler. I don’t care if we have to break out the pistols, we’re gonna duel.”

The turtle shook his head, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah but in a cute way, right?”

Raph gave him an incredulous look and lied for the second time that night. “No. Not in a cute way.”

Casey shoved a fist against his chest. “Oof! Straight to the heart!” He leaned closer to Raph. “So… since we can’t duel because you’re crying and stuff–”

“Not crying.”

“Uh-huh. Do you wanna talk about why you’re crying?”

Raph gave him a truly disgusted look. “To you?”

“Why not?”

“You’re a total stranger, and the only other time I interacted with you, we were enemies.”

“Woah, woah, enemies? I wouldn’t say that.”

“We fought.”

“We dueled, totally different.”

Raph scoffed and looked away. Casey chewed on his lip, thinking, then slapped a hand against the turtle’s shoulder.

“You know what makes me feel better when everything is shit?”

Raph looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “...what?”

Casey pulled a baseball bat from the golf bag on his back and brandished it proudly. “Bustin’ heads.”

The turtle eyed the bat warily for a moment. “Uh, yeah, I noticed that’s how you get your kicks. You kinda have a hard time… stopping. Busting their heads, I mean.”

A shrug. “Yeah, sometimes. Don’t worry, I’ll be good.” He batted eyelashes at Raph and offered a winning grin. “C’mon.”

Raph pursed his lips, thinking that he should really be getting back because Leo did not like anyone being gone too long, especially when he was injured like this, when he couldn’t just get up and track them down. But Casey’s smile was lively and warm, and it was hard not to smile back.

“Alright.” He pushed away from the ledge and gave his face one last wipe to remove the evidence of his crying session. “I could go for some head-busting.”

“Hell yeah!” Casey grabbed his wrist to tug him toward the fire escape, then let go. “Hey, what’s your name by the way? Or, like, do you have a name?”

Raph looked down at his own wrist, then back up at Casey as he pulled his hockey mask back over his face. He actually looked kind of menacing, with a face of bone white and shadow, but Raph knew that the smile was still wide and burning bright under there. “It’s Raph.”

Casey swung down onto the fire escape. “They won’t know what hit ‘em, Raph!”