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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?

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Robert won't get much answer aside from some grunting, and a rough shove that smacks his shell back against the edge of the tub. Don moves forward into the space, grabbing again at Robert's arms. The message reads like a very definite I want you too, but the animal emptiness in Don's eyes might make Robert second-guess who exactly is accepting his offer.

Splinter could have hear you two horny brats from halfway across the house, especially after Robert's shell thumps against the wall. He immediately goes to see what sort of trouble is going on, and can easily recognize the sounds from walking in on his sons before. Except that there is more than one voice within that room.

He doesn't knock, but suddenly, the door is open, and a very angry rat is standing just inside the bathroom watching his son manhandle his boyfriend. A very angry rat that, despite his diminutive 4'10" height, looks about ready and able to skin them both alive with his cane.

"DONATELLO! ROBERT! What is the meaning of this funny business?!"

That's three times Robert's shell hit the wall now, actually. If anybody's counting. Splinter might have been.

If Splinter's paying attention over his own yelling, he might be able to hear Robert's soft, nearly-terrified whimpering. After all, he certainly didn't expect to be shoved onto his shell, and those eyes of Donatello's have nothing but pure feral lust in them. Even Robert can tell what that means. And honestly, he's more than a little frightened. His small, broken voice pleads, "D-Donatello, p-please, i-if you wanted me to l-lay down I would have done s-so... gladly..."

He trails off, of course, when he hears the shouting, and manages to turn his head enough to choke out, "M-Master Splinter?"

Robert gives Splinter something of a desperate look. A look that reads "can you please stop your son from raping me, I don't like it very much".

Don looks up sharply when the door flies open, and grunts out a, "Hrgh?"

Exactly two seconds later he snaps back to himself, looks at Robert, looks at Splinter, and throws himself back against the opposite wall with a room-shaking slam and a rug-soaking splash. He scrabbles for -- well, nothing, his fingers making ineffectual plinking noises in the suddenly-shallower water, and then he covers his face with his hands and curls in on himself.

Please do skin him alive, Master Splinter. You'd be doing him a favor.

Splinter hadn't been counting, but the multiple thumps had still gained his attention.

Splinter will do no such thing--not today. He has another punishment already in mind. It's impossible to remain angry at their reactions, seeing the horror in both their faces, but Splinter makes a good show of it.

He looks pointedly at Donatello, despite how his son is curled up on himself. "Donatello--Dojo, flips, now!"

Robert's horror grows more palpable as Don practically rips away from him and smashes into the opposite wall before defensively curling in on himself. He ruined it, didn't he? Granted, being raped wasn't ethical in the least, but...

But... He didn't want Donatello to go.

Robert reaches out one hand abortively to Donatello's coiled-inward body, though it freezes when Splinter barks his orders, and instead he pulls back into the opposite side of the tub, instinctively coiling inward a little himself. He sobs softly; he can't help it. The shock of everything going from wonderful to horrible in an instant is almost too much for his emotionally-stunted mind to comprehend.

And he's utterly terrified of Splinter's likely reaction to all this.

Don gives Robert one more wide-eyed, terror-stricken look, then bolts out of the tub, dodges around Splinter, and vanishes.

He will go after Donatello for a moment, but for now, he is not the one that is the worst off of the two. Donatello was not the one that was nearly raped. Hormones are perhaps something to laugh at for humans, a sort of awkward progression from adolescence to adulthood, but that iis not the case for turtles. Their hormones arestronger and make for far more dangerous reactions.

It is obvious that his son had not warned Robert of the strength of instinct. That Robert did not understand the instincts of his own turtle body. Splinter would fill in for what Donatello did not say.

And then, once satisfied that Robert understood, he would go and sooth his gentlest son's spirit. Robert was merely startled and scared--something that could be easily cured. Donatello's wounds would take longer to heal, but could wait for the moment.

Splinter stalked through the water on the floor and reached a hand towards Robert--

--placing it gently on his head.

"Do not engage my son during Spring, or he may do something that he regrets." The tone was scolding, but there was an odd gentleness to it (he had nearly been raped, after all, Splinter told himself). "You would do best to keep your hands to yourself while you are in our home!"

Edited 2011-04-04 01:46 (UTC)

It's not that Robert doesn't know about how hormones can be powerful. After all, he's an astrobiologist; he knows that they can be extremely potent in other species. But it was more the suddenness of it that had thrown him off. How he'd been in Don's arms one second, and the next flat on his back.

His own disconnect from his instincts means that the turtle instincts he has are getting more or less pushed aside. He's only barely cognizant even of his human instincts.

That hand going toward Robert's head? Robert just cringes. He doesn't make any attempt to move away from what he expects is a strike. And yet, it isn't. It's just a gentle touch on the head.

The owner of that hand is still terrifying though, so Robert isn't un-cringing anytime soon. He still looks decidedly anxious. However, he finds his voice enough to speak - somewhat audibly, if not shakily.

"... M-Master Splinter, sir... th-the issue i-isn't him being sexual with me. The issue is how... v-violent that was. And s-sudden.

He d-didn't need to push me down." Robert's voice is nearly plaintive.

He sobers at the second part though. "Honestly... I h-hadn't expected such... suddenness... but, I apologize. I was the one who... r-requested his permission for the initial contact. I suppose I... shouldn't have done so... But I didn't expect that it would... h-happen like that."

Robert's gaze travels down, across the stripes on his arms. He's ashamed of how unprofessional he was, how much he needed Donatello... How wonderful it had been and how it felt like he'd ruined it with his own foolish needs.

"... I'm... not used to being so aroused all the time..." I'm used to being in control.

Really, this whole situation was reminding him of the drugs.

Splinter sighs tiredly and removes his hand. He seems more irritated than angry now. Why were all of his sons capable of such foolishness? Even Leonardo was likely capable of such lapses in judgment if he met the right... woman. Or man, as it may seem.

He does his best to ignore how blunt Robert is being about what had happened. There are some things that Splinter would rather not know. The details of this are some of them. The rat's eyelid twitches.

"Then you know for the future to be more cautious," Splinter states dryly. "Donatello is also not used to being aroused by someone."

He was going to have a migraine after this was all said and done.

Robert wouldn't have thought Don was capable of this if he hadn't been pushed down by him a minute ago. This didn't seem like the kind of thing that Don was even capable of doing... but there was no denying that it had occurred. And Robert was almost ashamed of himself for feeling a little bit of fear of Don now... if he was capable of that.

Robert's always blunt about everything. He always wants to know, even if it kills him. A part of him is glad that he knows this bit of Don, even if it's terrifying him to know about.

"I... s-suppose I do. Or... or perhaps we'll need to discuss things in advance."

Robert shakes his head slightly, a hand going up to slowly rest on his own face. "... He questioned why I was interested in him at all. As far as I'm concerned, there's no reason I wouldn't be... he's wonderful."

The scientist-turned-turtle chances a look over at the irritated-looking rat.

"... Sir... Thank you. I... I appreciate... your kindness, in allowing me to speak. And taking me in for this time. And... I apologize for being so unprofessional.

... We never did get a chance to... speak properly before, did we...?" Being afraid of Splinter hadn't helped. But... Robert's seen that Splinter is capable of more than just glaring angrily at him for existing, now.

At around "You would do best to keep your hands to yourself while you are in our home!" Mike decides he's had enough, and walks as quietly as he can on hooves to the living room and out the front door.

He can't take this anymore.

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