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Current Mood: awkward

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(no subject)

Who:

semper_cogitans, though with replies coming from

herpderpetile, and

i_speak_softly. I pity anybody else who might join in advance :|;;
What: Probably the most awkward, hormone-spiked bath ever
When: March 31st, during the Unofficial Derpturtle Sleepover
Where: House 55
Summary: Robert has just the luck to be turned into a mutant red-eared slider in the middle of spring mating season, which, needless to say, is making everything a little awkward. Especially when he's been in the same house as his boyfriend (and his family) for a few days. And then, of course, he's neglecting to keep himself hydrated, so clearly Don has to get him into a bath. ~~This won't turn awkward or fail miserably at all.~~
Rating: F for Fail. No, really, it's probably going to get into NC-17 territory, though knowing how much Robert and Don suck at emotional stuff, anything along those lines will likely be awkward and abortive.

So how uncomfortable is it to be in your partner's house in the middle of a mating season while simultaneously being aware of how much the rest of his family dislikes you?

Very uncomfortable, that's how uncomfortable. And that is why Robert has completely immersed himself in work on his nanocomputer, both to ignore the subtle anxiety of the various Hamatos not named Donatello looking at him disapprovingly and to try to suppress the increasingly-urgent desire to do more than just cuddle with Donatello. It was decidedly unprofessional to feel like that... and, truth be told, Robert was more than a little nervous about the idea. Eight years of self-imposed cloistered distance from people meant that sexuality was something he hadn't really ever gotten a chance to envision as anything more than furtive, broken fantasies. Never mind that his emotional abilities were skewed enough and most of his fantasies ended up depressing him somewhat because they were about Benjamin... though, the subject of them had, admittedly, changed somewhat in three months.

Okay, changed a lot.

Clearly this mental topic deserved to be crushed down in favour of typing even more fiercely at the ergonomically-designed miniature keyboard of his nanocomputer. Never mind that only having two fingers was kind of throwing him off his typing stride. Never mind the strange lethargy and general illness he felt. I have to distract my mind from this...

Somebody more knowledgeable of turtles - for example, an actual turtle - might realize Robert's more than a little dehydrated right now. That's what happens when you isolate yourself in a house where people tend to congregate around the kitchen and steadfastly refuse to do anything but work in a desperate attempt to push the hormone-induced thoughts out of your head. (And it's funny, because Robert normally wouldn't deny thoughts like this. But there isn't anywhere private enough to indulge them...)

Anybody feel like wresting him from his engrossed state at the nanocomputer?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

... Even Robert's terribly emotionally-inept mind can hear the unintentionally suggestive wording in that. But he's determined not to let that monopolize anything.

Though he's blushing a nice shade of subtly-orange-green at the moment.

"Er... c-certainly." Robert waits for the bathtub to be less inconveniently half-filled and then attempts to maneouvre himself into it. This is easier thought about than done, and he ends up smacking his shell off the back of the tub in the process.

At least it doesn't hurt.

"Gah. My apologies..." Robert shakes his head sheepishly, running his three-digit hand over his forehead a little anxiously. The promise of close contact - in water, no less - is awakening a bunch of feelings he'd rather have stayed quiet, and now he just looks like a moron. Or more of one.

Co-bathing is no big deal to Don, and after stripping his gear and shutting off the water he slides into the tub, arranging his legs to fit around Robert's. Almost as an afterthought, he reaches back over the edge and grabs two plastic buckets, one of which he offers to Robert.

Normally it wouldn't be a big deal to Robert either. No nudity or sexuality taboo would generally make this simply a matter of professionalism - which is what it is in this case because it's somebody else's house. But it's also not being able to control or even completely fathom all these strange desires that aren't entirely his own.

He takes the bucket handed to him with a mildly confused look. "And this is for...?" Obviously for holding water. But for what reason? They were already sitting in a bathtub.

Robert kind of wants to stroke the thigh nearest him. He doesn't. But it's very tempting.

Damn hormones.

Yes, but the bathtub isn't deep enough. Don demonstrates the use of the bucket by scooping it through the water and upending it over his head. Then, satisfied, he settles back against the wall.

"You know, you said some strange things after you fell in the river."

"Define 'strange'." Robert copies the gesture on himself. It's odd when you don't have any hair to get in the way of the feeling of moisture dripping off your skull.

Very little has not been strange in the past few days. Or the past few weeks. Or months.

Or ever, in Luceti.

He smiles wryly a bit. Who'd've ever thought he would be having this conversation now? Or at all?

"You were very insistent that you didn't know how to swim." He smiles a little. The funny things people say when they're not quite lucid.

"That's because I actually don't. Not at all. As I attempted to explain to you at the time - I never learned how to, on Terra."

It was never necessary and I didn't want to shame myself.

Why is it such a difficult concept to get that Robert can't swim? Really... It's almost embarrassing that Don seems to expect him to be able to and he can't.

"... I could certainly try to learn for you. But it would be very new for me..."

Don blinks. He'd been expecting Robert to laugh and say he didn't remember saying that. But this... makes no sense.

"What do you mean, you didn't learn? You've - never been in the water before?" That's the only context Don can imagine that would prevent a more-or-less able-bodied person from knowing how to swim. But Robert seems to expect swimming to be hard...

Edited 2011-04-01 11:26 (UTC)

"I have never been in a position where I needed to learn to swim," Robert explains, his expression uncomfortable. "Naturally, because I never learned, I was kept from being in deep water in the interests of safety - not as if there is much deep water in Linden to begin with, save the occasional pool facilities in exercise buildings such as gymnasia... not that I would have ever gone there." He shudders slightly.

And swimming would be hard for him. This is the same person who has trouble fathoming walking further than across the village, and swimming is a fairly intensive activity, requiring one's whole body to work instead of just one's extremities.

Some of it is just pure and utter shame at his body, though, but he has no idea how to word this, yet.

Don is slowly beginning to grasp the concept. (He is the smart one.)

"You mean you have to learn to swim? You don't just - do it?"

"Yes. Like I noted to you, it took me a minute to realize that, as a turtle, swimming is instinctual. Humans are not instinctual swimmers - they must learn to swim as a skill. However, humans will instinctually hold their breaths in the absence of air - even a newborn human infant will hold zir breath if immersed in water."

Robert leans back against the wall himself. This is... awkward, isn't it?

This is, in fact, quite mind-blowing. Don needs to stare into space for a minute to think about it.

That's okay. He can stare into space.

Robert will stare at his plastron instead. Why does it have to be so ridiculously appealing right now?

Don't mind Robert blushing while he admires you, Don.

As he so often does, Don blinks back to himself and gives his conclusion without bothering to explain how he got there. "I'm going to teach you to swim."

... And Robert, you're turning colors. The water doesn't feel that warm... "Are you okay?"

Flatly: "No."

Then Robert glances down at the water, mildly uncomfortably, and elaborates, in a rather anxious way... "I'm... so distracted by these desires that my mind keeps... wandering. I apologize. This is highly unprofessional of me..."

He wrings his fingers together lightly, trying to ignore how swollen his tail feels. Ugh, this congested feeling was somewhat miserable. It's ridiculously close to epididymal hypertension, but almost more pervasive.

Okay, Donatello, focusing on the more immediate problem.

"Do you want me to - leave you alone?"

Because obviously Plan A for solving a problem is always "remove the cause".

"It's hardly your fault..." Robert shakes his head. "And... I... a-appreciate your company."

I just want you intensely right now and can't very well do anything about it.

Robert's gaze furtively meets his partner's, wavering unsteadily. It flickers, uncomfortably, to the water, then back up again - then back down. Robert can barely keep his focus on Don's beautiful face because he's so damned awkward.

"... This... w-would not be an issue if I could be with you, but..." Even that was hard enough to say, and Robert reflexively grabs at his own hands, fiercely squeezing his fingers together. It's a grounding action, and his shaky breathing stabilizes just slightly.

Gods, he wants Donatello... But this is probably the worst moment to say that, isn't it? Not that he... doesn't have a penchant for doing things at the worst moment.

Don can't seem to raise his eyes from the water either.

"Robert... what do you want from me?"

He means in a long-term relationship sense. What do you need, for this to work?

"Whatever you are willing to give me." It is an automatic reaction, as automatic as when he corrected Don on what Mike's stance was.

Frankly, in Robert's mind, the only thing that matters is Donatello. Whether Donatello is happy, whether he is comfortable, whether he is alright with where something may or may not be going, whether his needs are being met or not. This might be a bad thing - this all-or-nothing, surrender-oneself-fully-to-one's-partner kind of mindset - but it is borne from an intense, earnest desire - nay, need - to keep Don with him.

"I... I love you. All I need from you is that love..."

Wanting to be sexual with Don is only an extension of that. If Don never wanted to allow it, epididymal hypertension be damned - Robert would gladly be in a sexless relationship with this wonderful person that he adores.

Of course, his desires are pretty intense right now, and thus uncomfortable... but Robert could easily put them aside for Donatello's sake.

"I do love you, Robert. But -" He slides his hand up his arm in a nervous gesture, painting his skin with water. "I've never done this before. I don't know what people are supposed to do..."

Some part of him wonders if this is like swimming. Does Robert expect him to just know, instinctively, how to behave in a relationship?

"Neither do I," Robert murmurs, hesitantly letting one hand's fingers flutter to his wrists. It's odd, not feeling the scars there. "I... have no idea how to even function socially most of the time, and..." He pauses.

"... Well, from what I understand, there is no solid process. All relationships can be valid, as long as they are not abusive. All expressions of desire can be valid. I... don't think we need to constrain ourselves to any particular definition, both for our own sake and for anybody else's."

He shakes his head. "But I am probably even more inept than you are... my... my last relationship was... well." Strange would hardly begin to define it.

"... However, I suppose we could... attempt to come to some sort of... mutual definition on what either of us would consider... plausible. Or... perhaps even desirable."

Because clearly, a rational, scientific, logical definition of "relationship" is the only way to go.

Don nods, in a you-go-first kind of way. He has no idea what it might be appropriate to propose, but working out a shared expectation of the relationship sounds like a good idea.

"Well, we ought to determine what sort of... physical permissiveness this relationship has," Robert mumbles. He... really shouldn't be this uncomfortable... "I-I... am not certain if you are... alright with the relationship going in a more intimate direction at this point in time."

It's obvious Robert himself is horribly awkward about asking.

"B-But perhaps I should... wait to ask about this... ...j-just that it's such a pervasive topic in my mind recently, and..." Robert forces himself to inhale and exhale slowly. Really. It's just sex. He shouldn't be so anxious.

"No, it's - it's okay." Don offers an awkward and lopsided smile to the side of the bathtub. "I - like that you ask first."

There might be a vague suggestion of ask-and-you-may-receive, but asking Robert to ask for something seems too forward, somehow. If he wants to, he will.

Robert doesn't know what forwardness even is. The only way he ever communicates how he feels is in the most atrociously blunt way. And this is proven by what he says next - it's a soft voice, and stuttery as all hell, but it's an undeniably blunt statement that really cannot be misinterpreted.

"W-Well... in that case... i-if you'd perhaps be willing at some point, I would... love to be sexual with you. A-Assuming you are alright with this, of course. I-It... it's perfectly alright if you aren't..." He coils his fingers together like he wants them to snap off and stares very fiercely at the water.

Internally he is completely terrified by the prospect. Both of Don saying no - and rejecting him entirely - and Don saying yes - and opening up a whole new avenue of relationship for Robert to atrociously fail at.

But if there's one thing Luceti has taught Robert, it's that he needs to try to be a little bolder...

"... I-I would... g-greatly appreciate the chance to... please you."