i_speak_softly | Forty-Third Theory [Mostly Action]

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Forty-Third Theory [Mostly Action]

((General post for the next two weeks or so. Preemptive tl;dr, find him anywhere, though suggestion of day/place/activity is appreciated.))

[As May begins, and as a fairly large percentage of May goes by, Donatello can be found doing the following things:

-Jogging through the woods, tracking down any signs of life detected by the departed Mr. Scott's not-really-new-and-not-exactly-improved-either tricorder. ((New Feathers, feel free to jump in here.))

-Hauling huge loads of books to and from the library.

-Studying these books - in and around House 55, at the library itself, by the fountain, at the coffee shop, alongside the river... pretty much anywhere.

-Copying diagrams from the books into his journal.

-Working at the smithy, trying to create physical equivalents of these diagrams.

-Digging through bins at the item shop.

-Practicing wind magic or good old-fashioned ninjutsu in various open areas around the edges of the village.

And a few more specific actions:]

[Don needs a few minutes of your time. If you don't dare to approach him while he's working, he'll come looking for you.]

[Some rainy evening, Don will show up at Robert's door with a duffel bag and a goofy grin. You owe him a nanocomputer demonstration - and he brought you a gift.]

Frederic, a question, if you have a minute...

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[He nods.] The logical part of you says someone is trustworthy, but another part of you doesn't listen to logic and isn't convinced. [He smiles wryly.] Not that the second part is always wrong... [He shifts, making their relative positions less a serious conversation and more a relaxed being-together.] ... but in this case I think they're just on the wrong step.

[And that not-touching-without-permission thing? Is exactly the opposite of what he was tring to get at.]

How would one go about convincing that part of your mind...? [Thoughtfully, Robert wonders how he could convince his own social phobia not to be... socially phobic.] Essentially, one would have to... teach it to not automatically be fearful...

... Is there a reason that being a ninja is associated with it?

[Pfft. Don is going to have to explain that to Robert better, then. ~~And Robert is a wimp and doesn't want to bother people.~~]

Training. Bypass the brain and teach the body. That's how you learn most of ninjutsu.

[He hesitates, then says:] I need you to train me.

You need me to train you...?

[Strangest. Sentence. Ever. Except maybe the time when Robert wondered aloud how a universe could function without magic during the AU.]

How would I even do that? I mean, I wouldn't wish to... be a bother...

It's not a bother. I need to learn to let you touch me. The best way to do that is - by letting you touch me.

[Even if it's uncomfortable at first. Training is like that.]

[He shifts again, facing Robert more fully.]

Please?

[Whelp, mixed feelings get. It feels... bad to do something that somebody doesn't explicitly want. But Don is explicitly asking Robert to do something that he doesn't want. So doesn't that mean he explicitly wants it? Except he doesn't.

Robert just focuses on the fact it's consensual.]

... If you're certain...

I-I mean, it's not that I don't want to. On the contrary. [He is still very interested in touching Don, however "touching" applies.] Just... I'd rather not make you uncomfortable...

... B-but, if you still want me to, regardless, then...

[Yeah, Robert's just going to nervously run his fingers over Don's plastron again, slowly. He maintains some uncomfortable eye contact - he can actually do so, with Don - as he does this, carefully, seeing what the turtle is comfortable with. Or, uh, not so uncomfortable that he hates it utterly, anyway.]

[Don keeps quiet as Robert touches him. Those feelings again, liking and hating at the same time, but he pushes them away, goes to a meditative place, starts counting slowly. When he reaches 100 he'll allow himself to move away.]

[In the meantime, his expression will betray very little, even to a more skilled observer. He trusts you enough to let you follow your own judgment.]

[Robert's quiet too, actually, just tracing small, gentle, careful patterns over Don, wondering how this feels for him and why it bothers him... wondering what it means that it bothers him. Wondering a million things, really.

His hands don't stray anywhere else from the upper half of Don's plastron, though they meander there. Don'd probably have to be more specific if he wanted Robert to touch anywhere else.

The moment Don pulls away, Robert snatches his hands back almost in a chastised manner and holds them, meerkat-like, against his own thin chest.]

I... I-I hope that was alright...

[Don makes it to 112 - almost two minutes - before the urge to get away becomes overwhelming. He pulls back, moving to the end of the couch, and takes a moment to calm himself before looking at Robert again.]

That was ... good. [He means the way you did it, not how it felt. That will come later.] Will you do it again?

[The panicked pulling-away makes Robert immediately regretful, and he internally curses himself a bit before Don responds.

... It was good? Something that made Don look downright afraid was good?]

... In the same manner...? [Robert looks anxious, not sure whether he should scoot closer or wait for Don to return.] I, I c-could touch somewhere else if you'd p-prefer, or...

[A tiny part of him wonders if this is how sex between them is going to be like.]

[Oops, miscommunication.]

Another time, I mean.

[Ninja foreplay is a long-term project.]

[Long-term indeed. At least they're both aware of each others' respective hang-ups at this point? Sort of?]

... Ah, not a problem.

[Robert's just going to look shy now.

He twists his now-unoccupied fingers gently together in his lap and tries to look immensely interested in the floor.]

[He fidgets a moment, then asks:] Was there anything you wanted me to know?

...

W-Well...

[Uncomfortably:] You... you wanted to hear about... my ex-partner at some p-point, didn't you...?

...

It's... d-difficult to talk about, but it is something you deserve to know...

[You look so miserable at the idea.]

It doesn't have to be now...

[It's... not the most pleasant subject for Robert.

Which is to say that it's probably the most painful thing to think about that happened in his life, short of Luceti-related things.]

... But I... should be honest and open with you, of all people. And, I d-don't know when we'll next get a chance to speak uninterrupted...

And I r-really do trust you... [He isn't just saying this to psyche himself up, though that's partially the reason.

There's so much that Robert doesn't know about Don, too. And he's starting to become aware of just how much he doesn't know.]

... M-May I... hold your hand...?

[Don glances out the window. Dark. Still raining. He can't stay out all night, but he has some time.]

[He slides back over on the couch. One arm snakes around Robert's shoulders, to trace absently up and down his sleeve. The other hand seeks Robert's fingers, twining with them and holding them in a reassuring grip.]

[He'll listen to whatever you have to say.]

[Robert pulls himself closer to Don's presence, taking the contact as an encouragement to actually say something.

Holding Don's hand helps too. It's stabilizing, helping to push away Robert's misgivings about the whole thing.]

...

His name was... ... is... Benjamin.

Benjamin Prieto.

... I first met him when I was around fourteen, through the science clubs at my school. [Robert's voice is kind of wavery and watery here, though it holds traces of a smile.] It was... one of the things we really had strongly in common, actually... even now I wonder what made us click, for those f-five years...

... H-He was unmistakably intelligent. A b-brilliance that manifested itself in s-strange ways, to be sure, but... ... Much like Mike, actually, in some senses. He was a playful, exciteable, curious person... ... I s-suppose I grounded him in some ways. Provided him with the normalcy he needed...

...

[Robert shakes his head a little.]

... H-he... ... c-called me "Rob" all the time...

... I-it... it's still a little... p-painful to hear that name...

[It's a little uncomfortable, hearing Robert compare his ex-partner to him, to his brother. But the last statement is unsettling in a different way.]

It - reminds you of him?

[Robert fails at descriptions. He finds comparisons easier to do than describing something by itself. Especially something as awkward and complex a topic as his former partner...]

...

Yes... it does. And... u-until recently, it was... a thoroughly painful reminder...

... [Softly:] I-It's... changed, though, now...

I just, I w-worry... th-that... that I'll do something w-wrong with us, like I did with him...

[And with all the things that get in the way of Don and Robert's relationship, his worry isn't entirely unjustified.]

[Don would hold Robert closer, but he's already about as close as he can get.]

No one else calls you that?

[Robert shakes his head.]

Names like that are... very new for me. I'm used to being called Robert.

... [Awkwardly:] Benjamin was the only person who ever used pet names for me...

[Not even his parents. In fact, they often called him Professor Hastings. That's how distant he was with them.]

[What different families they come from.]

I'm sorry.

[And he tries to find a place to rest his head. Robert's shoulder is too low to be comfortable - his head would make more sense, but Don is always hesitant to touch a human's hair...]

Please... it isn't your fault. How would you be expected to know something when I had never told you?

... And... a-and, it's... n-not problematic, or as much, anymore...

[Robert shifts his head in a clearly indicative way, brushing his soft, short hair against Don's chest.]

... I-It's... it's the feelings behind the name that matter, c-correct...?

And, and... You love me... s-so it's... alright...

[Robert finds it easy to tell Don that he loves the turtle. But saying that Don loves him is much more difficult because it's still something that's hard to believe.]

... I-I... really don't want to lose this...

[Not that Don can feel it, there. He curls his arm around, making an abortive move to touch Robert's hair. He probably shouldn't.]

Is there something else I could call you?

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