Work Text:
There was a knock on the door. A great, deep, metallic thing that bounced off the walls and somehow managed to fight its way inside Donnie’s custom headphones. What was the point in custom-making your stuff to include a premium noise-canceling feature when it didn’t even work? But even if the knocking hadn’t made its way through the carefully constructed layers of foam, metal, and plastic, a computer notification told Donnie that someone was at the door, anyways.
Lifting his goggles up onto his forehead and gently setting down a hot soldering iron, Donnie clicked the notification to view whomever the offending interruptor might be.
He raised an eyebrow.
Holding two steaming mugs and wearing an oversized “I heart NY” shirt was Mikey, who appeared to be shifting from foot to foot in anticipation of the door opening for him. Because, of course, Donnie would always let him in.
It wasn't uncommon for Mikey to come and find his older brother. Usually, it was during the day. Daytime Mikey was always looking for something to do, and bugging an older brother was certainly an entertaining activity. It used to annoy Donnie when they were both little, but baby Mikey's poking and prodding with experiments and buttons and beakers had eventually made way for only the occasional scolding and, just last week, a slight chemical burn. To be fair, Donnie had told Mikey to be careful around nitric acid.
However, every once in a while, Mikey would come and find him at night. Donnie wasn’t sure if Mikey came to him past 12am just because he knew that both Raph and Leo would be asleep or because Mikey actively wanted to see him, but either way, he usually didn’t mind the company. Mikey sometimes stayed for an hour or two, hovering as Donnie worked. Other times, he’d be in and out, just enough time for a quick hello.
Donnie wondered which it was going to be this time around.
Pressing a button on the side of his desk, the metal door to his lab slid upwards into the ceiling, granting Mikey entry. Shifting his headphones down to hug his neck, Donnie swiveled in his chair to face his little brother. Mikey gave him a smile in response, shadowed slightly in the dim lighting of the lab.
“Hey, Dee. I brought you tea. Oo, that rhymed!”
Donnie snorted lightly as Mikey padded further into the room, reaching around the side of the desk again. The metal door slid shut quietly.
“What are you still doing awake? It’s…” Donnie quickly looked over to the computer screen. “... Almost 3am.”
Mikey shrugged. Having now made it over to his older brother, he set down one of the mugs on the desk, careful to place it next to some papers rather than on top of them.
“I dunno. Couldn't sleep.”
Blowing some of the steam off of the top of the mug, Mikey took a sip of his own drink. He had adopted a casual pose, weight thrown onto one side of his body and hip leaning on the side of the desk. Donnie was distantly reminded of the contrapposto stance developed during the Italian Renaissance, but the “I heart NY” shirt threw off the overall vibe. A very different Michelangelo than the classic sculptor.
The scrape of ceramic on metal drew Donnie’s thoughts away from art history as Mikey slid the other mug towards him.
“Drink up, it’s a good temperature right now. Nobody likes cold tea.”
“Are you just going to ignore the fact that iced tea exists, Mikey?”
“That’s a completely separate thing.”
Donnie rolled his eyes, but grabbed the warm mug anyways, bringing it to his lips. His breath ghosted over the surface, creating small ripples that petered out before they could reach the sides of their container. Capillary waves.
Donnie could see Mikey’s teasing smile over the top of the mug as he took a sip. His little brother was right: the tea was at a good temperature. Somewhere between warm and hot, but not to where you’d really need to blow on it for it to cool down. The flavor itself was nice, too. It was a chamomile with a little bit of milk, and Donnie felt a pleasant note of honey coat the back of his tongue as he swallowed. It was very much a “sleepy tea,” as Leo had once put it.
“Is this your way of telling me to go to bed, Mike?”
Mikey shrugged again, taking another sip from his own mug.
“Maybe. But you do you. Either way, drink it while it’s warm.”
A small smile. “Thanks, Mike. I will.”
It was quiet in the lab, save for the occasional beep of a machine somewhere and the tick, tick, tick, of an analog clock on a far wall. Donnie preferred this near-silence as a working environment - it helped him concentrate. If someone were to listen extra carefully, they could even hear New York’s bustling streets through the layers of brick and stone, pipeline and dirt. The hum of car tires on the road following the steady whirring of machinery made for comfortable background noise, and Donnie relished in it. However, as night made way for the young hours of the morning, it wasn’t unusual for him to crave company, whether he was aware of it or not. Mikey’s light and quiet chatter was therefore more than welcome.
“Will I see you in the morning for breakfast, Don?”
“... You’ll probably see me in the afternoon. Lunch time.”
“Better lunch than dinner,” He shrugged again.
They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sip of tea. Well, the sipping of tea, as well as the tick, tick, tick of the analog clock, the beep of a button or two, and the whirring of machinery. Donnie listened for car tires.
Hm. Maybe it wasn’t as quiet in here as I thought.
“Hey, Dee?”
“Yeah?”
“I think that I’m gonna go back to bed. Anything you need from me?”
Well, ideally, his little brother would stay for another short while to keep him company, but it would be unreasonable to ask. Mikey was tired, and maybe Donnie was a little tired, too. Was it the tea? The scientist he was, Donnie was usually skeptical of herbal remedies. At the very least, it might just be the placebo of the “sleepy tea” that was drawing him to bed. In any case, dozing off was beginning to sound more and more tempting.
No, Mikey didn’t have to stay. Donnie began to shake his head in response, but suddenly paused, brows furrowing. Hold on a second.
“Actually, yeah, Mike. You can tell me how you knocked on the door with both of your hands full.”
Here, Mikey blinked, then smiled sheepishly. He raised his mug up to his face, apparently hiding behind it.
“Um… I just banged my head on it a few times.”
Donnie hoped his laughter wouldn’t wake up the rest of the lair.