lucetilogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Robert Hastings (

semper_cogitans) and Hamato Donatello (

i_speak_softly)
What: Celebrating the birthday of a certain Turtle.
When: February 6th
Where: Around the village, though the Battle Dome's a standout locale.
Summary: While there's some rare peace, Robert tries to give Don some semblance of a birthday celebration by doing everything he's terrible at.
Rating: Shouldn't be anything too bad here. PG-13 maybe at most? Or maybe B for Birthday.

Thanks to the genius of Don's winter room, this year the Turtle is actually coherent on the day Robert remembers he defined as his birthday. And while the birthdate might not even be particularly accurate, it's nonetheless significant enough to Robert that he wants to commemorate it somehow.

So what better way than by making himself look a little silly doing all the things his partner is so fond of? Don had already wanted to go for a run, and it was easy enough from there to suggest a sparring session of sorts afterwards - they've been cooped up inside too long, and need the exercise anyway.

All of this is a little nervewracking for the scientist, but he is determined to make it work as he makes his way to the Turtle's winter room bright and early in the morning.

One way or another, he is going to make sure Don has fun today.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Don is okay with a slow and circuitous conversation. This is obviously difficult for both of them.

"Why would I want to give in to my worse impulses? That's exactly what we should all try not to do."

Mildly awkwardly, Robert asks, "Exactly how is... stroking one's mate's face a "worse" impulse...?"

He does know that there is a lot more than that involved, but what stops Don from just... doing that rather than anything more violent?

Don stares disbelievingly, starting to wonder if he knows quite what they're talking about.

"It's weird."

Robert's starting in the shallow end of this particular awkward pool, for once, rather than just jumping in at the deepest point.

"Humans often touch each others' faces as well... granted, perhaps not in the same way, but it is not so strange. And certainly... it is not strange to me." But then again, very little is.

Don grapples with this idea for a long moment, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly. Then, he just says:

"No."

"As you wish," Robert says softly, not quite looking at Don now. He still doesn't really understand why the Turtle is so vehement about not acting on these parts of himself, but if they really are so repugnant to him, he won't push. If there's anything Robert is good at, it's being a doormat to Don.

Don hunches down in the blankets, evidently distressed by the conversation. Does Robert think he's some kind of animal, thinly restraining his real desires? And what must the man think about himself, to be willing to let Don do things like that to him?

That mental worrying is so far off the mark it's not even funny. Hell, Robert is the one sitting here thinking he's doing this wrong - since day one sexuality has largely been on his terms, filtered through his human desires, and Don has been the subject of those whims. All things considered, it seems perfectly normal for this to at least be explored almost two years into their relationship.

It would be nice if Don actually asked these questions, though, because otherwise Robert will just sit here looking saddened, like this conversation went every way but the one he was hoping for. (He didn't even get a proper answer.) In the meantime, however, Robert is going to do the one thing he knows how to do - apologize.

"... I... am s-sorry, if I... offended or hurt you with my qu-questioning..."

He doesn't know what he said wrong, but it's obvious he said something wrong.

Edited 2013-02-25 03:15 (UTC)

Don fidgets with the edge of the blanket, carefully avoiding looking at Robert.

"It's okay. I just -- I don't understand what you're asking me."

A large part of Robert wants to be completely honest right now, to admit to Don at least some facet of the reasoning behind why he's so surprised - and a little sad - that Don so thoroughly rejects his more feral instincts... but admitting those things would also require admitting that he has been dwelling too much on something that is taboo for him, even now. Can he do that, even with someone he trusts as much as Don? What would the Turtle even think, if he's so horrified already by even considering it...?

"I... I simply w-wanted to be certain... of your exact r-reasoning. And in truth, your reasoning... m-matters little, beyond me wanting to understand - b-because, of course, if you do not want to, the point is moot; it will not h-happen -"

Robert stops, realizing he's verbally flailing, and takes a breath to calm himself.

"... I m-meant it to be essentially the same as... asking about any aspect of our r-relationship. Perhaps I... w-worded myself... poorly... but I m-meant to ask, before... before it became p-potentially relevant..."

Is his less-than-scientific interest obvious? Should he just admit what Robert already fears is so blatant that he sounds like he's lying?

Don takes a slow breath, and then speaks quietly, in a strange and unfamiliar cadence.

"I have body-desire for these things you talked about, but I do not have rational-desire, and... my mind is of the greater importance." His eyes flick up to Robert. "Do we have the same understanding?"

It's a few seconds before the man actually responds to this, and as he does he kneads his hands so thoroughly that it looks like he might bruise them.

"... wh-what if I were to... say that I had e-experienced both desires, in this r-regard...?"

As soon as he says it, he falls silent, like perhaps he regretted even putting such a sentence into words.

Edited 2013-03-02 02:26 (UTC)

Don blinks at Robert, trying to determine how specifically he means this. After a moment, he decides the man is serious.

"You increase the degree of complexity, Robert."

Great. Now he made everything terrible.

"My feelings are... i-irrelevant," he mumbles, though they're clearly not to him and that's hypocritical in the face of everything he said to Don. "It... makes no d-difference, I just... I f-felt that... you deserve the u-utmost honesty I can give..."

This is obviously difficult for Robert to admit, and the man actually can't even make eye contact anymore. Instead he is just staring at the sheets, as if there might be an answer to his conundrum written on them.

Don recognizes Robert's difficulty with this, and looks away.

"Let's understand together. You have total-desire... for me to do these things to you?"

A slow, but discernable, nod. Robert is cringing slightly now; he clearly expects the worst possible reaction at this point.

Don's reaction to this is mostly disbelief, edged with anger of the "why are you doing something stupid" variety. It takes him a visible effort before he's able to reply, and even then his voice is tight with tension.

"Robert, I am honored that you want me that way. But if I do those things, I will probably do other things that neither of us wants, and I will hurt you. Please understand this."

This is only somewhat better than the worst possible reaction.

"... I a-already said, it matters little what I f-feel. You do not desire it. That has... b-been made abundantly clear.

I apologize... it was a m-mistake, to say anything..."

It's rare that Robert wishes he could just erase the last few things he said. This is one of those times.

Shyly, a peace offering:

"I - want it a little more, now that you told me this."

Robert startles slightly, though he still doesn't chance looking back at his partner.

"... But... did you n-not wish to risk it...? I can... u-understand it... even if I t-trust you more than a-anything, kararbo..."

How can Don explain, when Robert seems so genuinely blind to the real problem?

He sits up, gathers the blankets around his waist, and thinks a moment before answering.

"These are the things I don't want: I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to do things that you don't want. And I don't want to be with you and not be aware of what I'm doing."

Robert hesitates - more because the last one surprises him than anything.

"... These three p-problems require different... strategies, if indeed they are... s-soluble...

... Wh-what did you think you would do that... I would not d-desire?" Is there something he's missing here?

To this, Don just shrugs cautiously. He doesn't feel comfortable speaking for Robert that way.

Robert can speak for himself, then.

Still quite obviously embarrassed, the man focuses on some point on the sheets and speaks in an awkwardly faraway voice.

"... S-Since... the th-third of the prior September, I have... thought of this particular s-subject... though, er, n-not necessarily with the same level of detail, as... the w-winter period was when I enacted much of my... r-researching, on the topic..."

He stops, knitting his fingers lightly and curling them against his palms.

"... It is... ethically wrong, to... to d-desire such... such aggression. I felt... a-and, perhaps, still feel... that it... is not meant to be a-anywhere near lovemaking... and yet... the p-presence you possessed then... I was, and a-am, intrigued..."

He hunches his shoulders. Is there something wrong with him, for wanting that? Did Luceti just completely break him? Or maybe that was always there in his head, and he just never had the chance to think about it before? Either thought is a little frightening...

Don has no idea what happened on the third of September, but from context he can guess what Robert is referring to - and the admission surprises him.

"You - liked that?"