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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

"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."

Don squirms uncomfortably, but makes himself give an answer. It's not a commitment, only a possibility. A possibility that he hopes the two of them can explore together.

"Someday. I think."

He squeezes the words out, and can't stop one more from following them.

"Why?"

That is more than good enough for Robert, actually. It's not a complete rejection, and it also doesn't mean he has to try to do it so soon that he doesn't have any time to try to mentally prepare - perhaps that'll reduce the chance of it failing ridiculously badly.

The question, though?

"Because you're wonderful." He's dead serious when he says this too, and he can't help but smile. "... I want to be with you, in any way you allow."

I want to show just how much you mean to me, and how your body is just as good as anybody else's, and how we don't need to be the same species to be able to fit.

That doesn't really answer the question, but Don suspects this is something he will never get a satisfactory answer to. As little as Don can understand why any human would be interested in him that way, Robert probably can't imagine that anything would categorically prevent such an attraction.

It's a problem that will probably preoccupy him for some time to come, but he senses that Robert's feelings are genuine, and for now that's enough.

"There's - not a long list of people I get in a bathtub with," he says awkwardly, just in case Robert thought there was. This may not be exactly the kind of closeness Robert had in mind, but it represents a huge trust step for Don, and he wants to be sure Robert knows that. If they're setting expectations, they should be clear not just about the goal, but about how quickly they're likely to get there.

He's definitely right about that. Robert doesn't really see Don as solely a turtle, per se - any more than he sees Don as solely a genius, or solely an inventor, or solely a person who wears purple a lot. He sees Don as this combinant self, and that self is something he rapidly finds that he would do significantly more for than he would for the average person. To him, Donatello's body is beautiful, appealing, attractive - not necessarily just because it's an aesthetically appealing body (and to Robert, that musculature is indeed aesthetically appealing...) - but because it's his body. That's really all the justification Robert needs.

"... There isn't a particularly long list of people I would get into a bathtub with either," Robert replies. Even if it wasn't the closeness he was expecting - was he even expecting any specific kind of closeness? - it's something that is symbolically powerful to him regardless. If this is what Don considers an intimate, trusting action - kind of like how Robert considered it intimate and trusting to take his lab coat off for Don - then that's amazing. It's amazing whether it's "typical" or not.

Screw "typical" things. They've never described anything about Robert before; why should they describe his relationship now?

Don smiles, from a mix of emotions, none of which may exactly be happiness. "That's probably a good thing."

Then he reaches over his shoulder, picks up a bar of soap, and offers it to Robert. "Here."

Robert smiles back, more genuinely, because he doesn't know the battle in Don's mind.

"Ah, thank you." Robert takes said offered soap, putting it aside. He'll definitely want to wash himself...

And then he takes the hand the soap was in, and holds it lovingly. Longingly. Hand-holding is something Robert does a lot - it's an action that he's come to regard as a symbolic representation of him trying to be intimate. He would've even kissed Don's hand in an archaic, pathetic but adorable gesture of love, but there's soap on it.

He offers a weak smile to go along with the hand-hold before releasing it to actually properly use the soap.

Yeah, Don, get used to awkward, stilted expressions of desire like that, if you haven't already...

That was awkward, but Don decides to take it as the romantic equivalent of a handshake. They're agreed on all that has been said so far, they're satisfied with the agreement, and now maybe they can stop talking about it for a little while.

While Robert tries to figure out how to wash a turtle body, Don takes the other bar of soap, scrubs his face and scalp, then leans forward and dunks his head underwater to wash it off.

Not talking about it is a go, yes. Not thinking about it - well, that isn't possible right now, at least not for Robert. But he can ignore the thoughts. Or at least reduce them to something similar to background noise, as he settles into the familiar-but-unfamiliar routine of washing himself as a turtle.

Even though he's had the greater part of a week to get used to this, it's still odd feeling scales instead of smooth skin. Or the entire lack of body hair, even Robert's relatively fine, downy variety. He notes, mentally, the fact that it's never been odd on Don - now that it's on him though, it feels mildly foreign. But... not bad. Never really bad.

The Malnosso would really have to do worse than this to his body to make him completely irritated with it. (Though this libido was on the annoying side of the scale, but at least it'd done something constructive now. As far as Robert could tell, anyway.)

"Hey Robert?" Don says, when he comes back up. "Can I ask you something kind of strange?"

Does he actually even need to ask at this point?

"Please feel free to. I doubt I would find anything you asked strange, to be honest." Robert smiles easily and looks up from where he was attempting to wash his plastron. (Those big dark markings on it make it hard to find actual dirt.)