Forty-Third Theory [Mostly Action]

[i_speak_softly]

((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...

Comments

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert bites back the "but I don't want to hurt you" because he figures it's actually relatively unlikely that he could.

He leans more of his paltry weight into Don, trying to spread out the pressure a little. It probably looks completely ridiculous from a third-person perspective.

Hey, at least it's giving him a nice opportunity to study Don's shell patterns...]

You... enjoy the pressure of this, correct?

[i_speak_softly]

Ye- [It's not enough yet. He shifts a little.] Really, more is better. You don't weigh anything.

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert debates just... sitting on Don's shell at this point if he wants more pressure, but for now he simply decides to lean harder into don, splaying his fingertips and almost attempting to massage what is hard and unyielding keratin.]

I am rather light, aren't I...

[Never has it been so obvious until he had a living tank as a boyfriend.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don lets out a breath and seems to sink a little into the carpet.]

Mm.

[It's an 'mm' of contentment, not of agreement that you're too skinny. Even though you are.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Please ignore that capitalism failure.

Robert continues trying to provide adequate pressure to Don's shell, varying where he puts his hands and resting his cheek against the smooth keratin. He may just be enough of a sap to kiss Don's shell a few times, though Don might not feel them beyond weak points of heat and pressure alongside his hands.]

... I'm glad that you like this...

[It's something he can do that's nice for Don, anyway.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don doesn't notice - he can't distinguish between kisses and normal touches. He's vaguely aware that Robert is laying on him, but he doesn't mind.]

[He lies quietly under his partner's hands, his demeanor completely different from the earlier "lesson".]

Only a few more minutes, okay?

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert notes this to himself - Don is completely relaxed with these touches. There's no trace of his earlier panic when Robert was touching his plastron... just quiet enjoyment. He wonders why there's a discrepancy, and what he can do to help surmount it.

Is that why Don doesn't want him telling anybody else about this?]

Please inform me when you want me to stop...

... You know, your shell is quite beautiful. [It's Robert's characteristic random, blunt observation, but it's a sincere one.]

[i_speak_softly]

I don't really want you to... [He shifts again, half making himself comfortable, half a sort of test run for actually getting up.] You know how my family is...

[A soft smile at the random compliment.] So I've been told.

[semper_cogitans]

Ah. It's more simple pragmatism then. [Robert would be happy to have Don stay over, of course, but he figures that his brothers and father wouldn't be too thrilled.]

... I almost miss how mine looked... [Thoughtfully, as he continues to knead Don's resilient carapace under his fingers:] Did the one scute you kept from me actually remain after the experiment ended?

[For what it's worth, the mun thinks it would. After all, the Sky Bison hair stuck around...]

[i_speak_softly]

[It takes Don a minute to remember what Robert is talking about. A lot has happened since then. When he makes the connection, he brightens.]

It did.

... Did you want it back?

[semper_cogitans]

Other than to do analysis on it sometime? I would rather you keep it... you were the one who wanted it, and I trust that you would take better care of it than I would.

[Thoughtfully:] If the Malnosso ever make you a human again, I may ask to keep a lock of your hair or something similar...

[He'd totally analyze it too. Just to be nerdy. Sentimentally nerdy.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Take better care of it? It's not like shed scutes are particularly fragile.]

[He can't help twitching at that suggestion. Despite repeated assurances to the contrary, he can't quite conceive of hair-cutting as not being painful.]

Only if I'm not someone else.

[semper_cogitans]

[Hey, Robert wouldn't know how fragile they are.

And Robert would gladly demonstrate on his own hair! It probably needs to be cut soon anyway.]

Ah, yes. Of course. Otherwise I would need consent from the original owner of the body as well.

... That could be awkward.

[i_speak_softly]

[This conversation is getting strange. Not that Don really minds, but it's probably time to head home.]

I should go...

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert's expression visibly falls at this. But he obediently pulls away so that Don can get up, getting to his own feet a moment later.

Then he bites his bottom lip gently and asks in a soft voice:]

...

May I... kiss you, before you leave?

[Go go gadget blatant permission-request!]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don gets to his knees and then his feet, tucking his bo back into its place. He smiles shyly at the request.]

Always.

[And after that, as though something has just occurred to him:] Robert...

[semper_cogitans]

[Aw. That smile is enough to melt whatever defenses Robert has, and he takes a half-step towards Don - and immediately freezes at the next part, curious.]

... Yes, Don...?

[His nerdiness always wins out.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Or he could ask his question first.]

Didn't you tell me you have a second name?

[semper_cogitans]

I have a middle name, yes... Alexander.

[Robert blinks, mildly confused. Now what reason would Don have to ask this now...?]

[i_speak_softly]

[A middle name. Some day Don will have to ask what that is. But for now...]

Can I - call you that?

[semper_cogitans]

[Well, that's kind of weird.]

... You would prefer calling me Alexander over calling me Robert...?

... I mean, it's not that I mind, but wouldn't it be confusing for everyone else?

[Not to mention that Robert doesn't know why Don doesn't like his name. Sob, is his name not good enough for Don either?]

[i_speak_softly]

[... That suggestion didn't seem to go over very well.]

No, but, if you don't like "Rob"... and I don't want to call you "Robert" all the time...

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert sort of flails his hands a bit from awkwardness. Ahh, why is this so uncomfortable...]

Well, it was more that... it was an... u-uncomfortable association moreso than me not liking it, and... [His expression softens here.] ... If... if I can be assured that things aren't going to... end, like they did with him...

... [Though, that can't be guaranteed. At any moment, Luceti could pull either one of them away...]

... I... I love you, Don... I just don't want to l-lose that, and... w-well, last time it was m-my fault.

...

I wasn't g-good enough...

[So much wrapped up in a simple nickname.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don gently folds himself around his partner. They both know there are no promises.]

It's okay. I'll think of something else.

[semper_cogitans]

[And that's the hardest thing about this, knowing that every moment he spends with Don could possibly be his last, knowing that he could forget all of this and never be able to feel it again...

He leans closer to Don in what's obviously meant to be an attempt to cup his cheek for a kiss; his eyes are soft and a little sad but so very devotedly loving regardless.]

I want to be... good enough, for you. More than good enough...