afreakingdork

You: I need some kinda haunted object for my roommateiversary

Donatello: None of those things are real.

You: Yeah, but I bet you get what I’m talking about?

Donatello: Unfortunately, I somehow do.

You: So I was thinking about hitting some antique stores Saturday since the versary is Monday

Donatello: Considering those type of places close before the sun sets, I believe I can make time in my schedule.

You: Oh? I’m pretty sure I didn’t ask

Donatello: You can go alone then.

You: Wait!

You: Ugh

You: Keep your schedule open!

You:  You insult my sacred traditions and then get all huffy! I should be the one upset!

He left you on read and you smiled to yourself. Leaning back at your new desk, you picked up the container that held your repurposed leftovers for lunch. The last two weeks had condensed a transitionary period in every sense of the phrase. On the work side of things, your company had opted for a complete restructuring of your department. Between the loss of your boss and the poor quarterly report, it made sense. They had essentially dissolved your whole floor and done a musical chairs of shoving people into rolls that were similar, but had shiny new titles. Besides the predictable adjustment period, things settled down. It had given you time to process your feelings and your new boss was so laid back that you had only seen him a handful of times even with the upheaval going on.

With Donatello, it had been a completely different case. The rest of the farmer’s market trip had passed in a lighthearted manner and you had blushed at the way he’d squeezed your hand in a parting. It was such a small thing, but opening the door to those kind of small affections had appeared to release a dam full of pressure within the man. He still had those staunch undertones, but the texts from him that followed held that same airy quality. You only had instinct to go off of, but it felt like you had breached something beyond just lifting the weight off his shoulders. You had a feeling you had unlocked another door amongst many that guarded the inner castle walls of his heart. It was in riding that excited high that you took initiative in rescheduling the ill fated date.

The curse unfortunately prevailed as Donatello had swiftly declined within an vague explanation about a new enterprise. Whatever it was, he projected it would take a couple weeks and all his nights. Before you had even finished reading his text, he’d sent his availability for lunch. Besides booking him for that next day, you teased him over how a date could be a midday affair. He staunchly refused to entertain the notion. For all his quirks, his severity when it came to the ‘official’ act of a date was unmatched. That was, until he approached you with his scientific method.

-

Last Week

Ready for a some tasty thai, you were met instead with an especially starched Donatello. He only appeared to be missing a clipboard as he turned to you and launched into what you would only later realize was an observation. Having not even managed a greeting, you were so blindsided that you missed a large swath of the introduction and only caught on as to what was happening when he posed a question.

“What are my touch limitations?”

It almost seemed rhetorical as he then slipped right back into an endless drone. You followed meekly as you were lead to a table by an extremely confused waitress. As soon as he took his chair, he only addressed her long enough to request his plate before jumping right back into it. You were sure your face was somewhere between awe and dismay. Unable to form an apology, the woman thankfully took it all in stride and wrote his entry down on her pad. She then shared a sympathetic look with you as you simply pointed out what you wanted from the menu. Her pen bobbed along with her head before she disappeared and you tuned back to find Donatello combing through how the experiment would be conducted.

It wasn’t that you were bored, but he had done nothing to prepare you for whatever was happening. His language was far above your pay grade and, though you had been growing rapidly accustomed to his genius, he had never applied it in this way. He usually was more adept at dolling out fascinating tidbits when prodded. This version of him gave no mind to who his target audience was. You wondered on it as you gingerly sipped from a water glass. Surely he would understand if you didn’t retain all this information so you continued to half listen until his tone ramped up. Noting that he was leading up to something, you checked back in just in time.  

“Now, I am still doing minor tweaking, but I believe with these perimeters I can gather the most sufficient data.” He then placed his hand to the table. “First, I will be evaluating and recording each passing desire to touch you.”

Across from him you stopped where you were tracing condensation on your glass.

“Then, if you are so inclined, I would act on these while documenting my reactions.”

“Inclined…?” The word sounded foreign in a way that made you realize it was the first thing you had said all lunch.

“Yes, an offer would be extended and you would decide if it should be executed.”

“Oh…” You injected a downturned quality to your voice to hint at your confusion, but he moved on regardless.

“I believe imposing a maximum time limit to encounters would be advantageous in gathering as accurate of results as possible.” He then pushed up his sleeve to show a strange looking watch on his right wrist. “It’s arbitrary, but a minute should suffice.”

Sitting up, you tried to get a better look at the device, but he plowed forward in a way that allowed his coat to slide back into place.

“This and the following will be done for specific reasons which I will detail in a moment, but each graze must be followed by at least a 5 minute cool down period.”

He immediately dove into an explanation that involved heady psychological rationale followed by several citations of papers done on chemicals released by the brain when psychical contact is maintained. He talked about the scientists as if he knew them personally before casually dropping how he had a new full body monitoring system in place. You absolutely wanted to ask about that, but your food appeared you before you could get a chance. By the time you looked up, he was already describing the lengths he had gone to eliminate variables between polite bites and measured chews.

You could barely get your chopsticks to work.

The most disheartening thing was how many words he had spoken. Even if you narrowed it down to just the time since you had been served, he had said a collective more than the entire time you’d known him. In a small way you were pleased, he was obviously entirely invested and excited by this project. In another, you it felt like an exhaustive construct created to regain control. He’d regained some, but it clearly wasn’t enough. It made you wonder how long it had been since the last time he’d acted against his so-called will. Whatever it was must have been traumatizing for him to go to such lengths. It was as if he thought if he synthesized the sensations down enough, he could bottle them and store them away.

You just managed to grab the first of your glass noodles when he suddenly stopped. Following suit from the strange turn, you found him with a downcast gaze. His expression read little as he with his scientific mode was active, but the way he set his utensils aside spoke to the gravity of whatever was coming.

“I acknowledge that this is entirely selfish on my part.”

Setting your bite down, you watched him closely.

“It’s worse when you consider that you are the cause.” With a flick of his pupils, he seared a gaze into yours that spoke of a deep conscientiousness. “I do not mean this negatively and, for your part, I need you to be aware that you are in full control of this experiment.”

The emotional whip between dialog held your tongue.

“If you recall the second rule; all touches are to only be conducted under your clearance. I recognize that touch is of a reciprocatory nature and thus I even debated initiating second investigation that would have been from your perspective. I dispelled the notion quickly as it doesn’t appear to be something you struggle with. That being said, I felt compelled to consider an amicable trade-off.” He slowed and finally broke that burning eye contact to look off to the side. “You’re going out of your way for me and I would like to honor that.” His gaze swept back. “Therefore, after thorough contemplation, I’ve concluded that I only need a warning of your own needs to then prepare myself. I may still decline, but based on my experience and what you’ve said, that should be agreeable.”

Stunned in at least a dozen ways, you simply nodded in agreement and he resumed his talk by dipping into methodology. You picked at your food as he debated how to analyze the data and you got a to-go box while he mused about what conclusions he might pull. Exiting the restaurant and still wondering where all the time had gone, Donatello trailed off. You looked up with what you were sure was a helpless expression and heard him say something about an eyelash. Still trying to process information from at least 18 sentences ago, you tilted your head curiously.

His expression softened and he reached out to brush your cheek. Your brain shut down as he seemed to catch something with the tip of his finger and then trace along your bone structure until he skirted your jaw. As if activating a switch, your mouth fell open and the corner of his lip quirked into that near smile. Skin scorched from the line he had drawn, you felt as though your mind was treading water.

“I can assure you that the practice will not be as daunting as the explanation.” His hand retreated and he tucked it back into his person. “Take care getting back to work and I will text you.” With a civil nod, he then departed.

-

Present Day

Trickling out of the memory, you still scarcely recalled how you’d made it back that day. What you clearly remembered were highlights of the next three meetings. In a tight reel you watched all the times Donatello had peppered in small grazes. He’d been especially keen on touching your hands. True to his parting words, the experimental part of the exchange wasn’t something you saw. Surely he was logging a thousand things in his mind, but he did so without giving anything away on how it made him feel. You could only guess it had something to do with impartiality.

It left you, on the other hand, all the more flustered and completely unable to ask for any form reciprocation. It was all so new and exciting that you’d forget yourself. He already paid close attention to you, but now that you were a part of his study, it was as if you were the only thing that mattered. In paired with the little meaningful brushes in a way that sent you straight to Nirvana. Riding the joyous high was something you could have done for years to come save one glaring issue: whatever desire he had once had to kiss you had disappeared.

When you weren’t trying to emotionally recover from the way he’d thumb over your knuckles, you were keenly aware that he was still up to his usual slinky nature. He had no problem popping your personal space bubble at the slightest prodding. You could barely mention how good a meal was without him curling up beside you to see for himself. He’d joined you for a quick errand early this week and when you’d asked about which of a product was best, he’d quickly dropped his chin just shy of your shoulder to see from your perspective. The sudden intrusions of his face close to yours seemed to hold no larger meanings on his part, but for you they were everything. From the time since the experiment started, you felt as though you were barely surviving each encounter without pouncing on him. As excited you were for Saturday, you were just as worried. Though he hadn’t responded, you knew you were both on for the antique mall and it was bound to be a minefield.

You had spent a long time trying to sort out your feelings on the matter. You’d done ample research into touch adverse partners and applied reason every which way you could. What he currently offered sent your heart into a tizzy so it shouldn’t matter, but it did nothing to stop the loud voice in your head that screamed at him to finally seal his lips over yours. Scrubbing your face, you tried to blame it on the fact that you’d almost had a taste. In the same way he had, you needed to get it out of your system. The thought alone shot straight through your being and you cleared your mind along with your desk. Your half eaten lunch meant ravenous hunger later; for now you needed a good spreadsheet to sate yourself.

-

In what the ever growing weight in your chest knew was a cute show, he’d insisted on meeting you outside your apartment. You slipped out the door and tried to commit the memory of him at the foot of your stoop in daylight as a contrast to the soaked through stormy version you currently held.

He greeted you calmly and then backed up to make a show of the cab waiting at the street.

“Picking up where we left off?” You crooned as you skipped the steps down to him.

“Doing so would erase our last few encounters.” He moved towards the vehicle and opened the door for you.

“You’re being chivalrous today.” You chided and went to accept his offer.

He waited until you were passing him to respond by whispering in your ear. “I always am; you’re just too enamored to notice.”

You faltered on your descent into the taxi and scrambled to cover the move by quickly ducking to the far side of the backseat. Resisting the urge to go fetal in public, you opted for curling a fist against your abdomen to trap the dozen butterflies escaped there. Right out the gate he had initiated warfare.

It wasn’t clear he had any idea, but you could feel Donatello watching you.

“Where are we heading first?” You had to get another focal point going as soon as possible.

The cab rocked as he got in and closed the door. It then pulled from the curb in a show that he’d already informed the driver. “After considering the options you sent, I selected the most viable.”

“The second place, right?” The mild distraction acted as a balm for your achy heart.

He tipped his head in a sort of agreement.

“Did you figure out that work hiccup?”

“Negotiations are tedious. You can put forth the most thought into a plan and one greedy individual will spoil it.” The corner of his lips twitched and you realized you were staring at them with far too much intensity.

It had barely been five minutes and you were already losing the battle. “This one’s a long shot, but acquisitions?”

Instead of surprise, he took his time evaluating your guess. “Another facet one could say.” He then turned and gave you a pointed look. “I am my own boss, however.”

The cocky authority there was sure to be a put on, but you found yourself suddenly looking out the cab window. You could feel the artery in your throat pulsing and cursed yourself for falling victim to what was barely a joke. A chant of how you weren’t going to make it started up in the back of your mind and you almost wanted to call the whole meeting off. From where your hands had fallen into your lap, you squeezed them until nails bit into your palms. You needed to ground yourself. You tried to summon a semblance of logic to relieve you of your torment. You didn’t need a kiss to have him. Coming down the barest amount, you opened your lids from where they had screwed them shut.

You were still in the cab.

Donatello was still at your side.

Taking in more facts, you saw a something in the middle seat. Rotating your head just enough to glimpse it, you stared down at Donatello’s upward facing palm. His hand had been casually tossed in the gap while his head was thoroughly pushed toward the cab window. Instead of a verbal ask it was a physical offer. Gingerly lifting your hand, you made the slow trek and skimmed your index finger across one of his pads to make your presence known. He acknowledged it by flexing his fingers and you tucked your hand into the awaiting trap. It came up around yours before giving a reassuring squeeze. The move correlated directly with your ribcage. Your senses were flooded by a single word: comfort.

He had come so far from the thumb tap in the plaza.

As much as it pulled at your heart, you couldn’t help but think of how it all looked. From an outside perspective, you probably seemed upset or even ill. His staring made all the more sense. He’d put his faith into you to explain your situation if you wished. When you hadn’t, he’d reached out while still making sure to give you your distance by not addressing it further. It, paired with the earlier strain, created an odd vortex in the black hole that was now where your heart lay. Trying not to be swallowed whole, you picked up an approximate count of where the seconds were. A minute would soon pass and he’d let go. You’d come to learn just how much could happen in that short amount of time and tried to thin in out to appreciate it further.

Hitting 60 you loosened your hold to pull back. The cage of his fingers held strong and you jarred wondering how far off you’d been in your estimation. When more time passed and you were sure it’d been longer than the agreed amount, you gave his hand a little squeeze to translate the question. He responded with a pressure of his own. Still, his hand held firm.

Instead of the joy that should have held, guilt overwhelmed you. He was breaking his experiment for you. Knowing how much joy the process of it brought him crushed you. He had no idea what ridiculous reason you had for being distraught in the first place. If he knew you wondered if he would even have offered the anchor in the first place. Unsteady, you squeezed his hand with as much force as you could muster. He continued to refuse to look, but you could tell by the way his shoulders pinched that he was confused. He kept his hold steady all the way until the cabbie announced your destination.

Letting go only when he was forced to, Donatello paid the man and exited the taxi. He then waited with a breadth outside the door.  You slipped out and felt the way he waited for you to initiate the excursion. Finding distraction in the task at hand, you tightened your shoulders before relaxing them as a means to release the tension. Bouncing back, you look at your companion with a tepid determination. “Let’s find something that will totally freak her out. I’m talking something that will give her nightmares if she happens to look at it in the middle of the night!”

His gaze seemed dull for a moment and then a softness came to his stoic features. “You make bizarre connections.”

“It’s supposed to make life more interesting, right? Instead, there this normalcy that I can’t seem to outrun.” You bobbed slightly as you started the trek to the store front just down the sidewalk.

He made a sound that said he understood and fell beside you. You thought he might reach out again, but when he didn’t, you reminded yourself that he probably long filled his overall quota. It made a sad sense that had you picking up speed to get to the door before him. You slotted the handle and opened it with a feigned bow to cover your downtrodden mood.

He played into it by refusing to regard you as if he were a king and you a servant. Amused and distracted by the action, you followed behind him.

He stopped almost immediately as he was clearly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of items packed into the single building. “We would cover more ground if we split up.”

“That’s true…” You held out the sentence as you marched straight towards the far left corner.

You could feel him trailing reluctantly.

“…Or we can make fun of this old stuff together?” You pointed at a sign where a ghostly man returned the gesture while touting his advertised beverage was good at any temperature.

Donatello reviewed the object with a bare grimace. “I refuse to believe that hot soda could have ever been refreshing.”

“Dark times.” You played along and moved along the display.

Donatello hovered close at first before catching on. He then made a show of pointing out a few withered objects of his own along with giving explanations of things you’d never seen before. Before you knew it, the two of you were going back and forth over which object would illicit the most fear. Around the halfway point you had a good showing between a doll with mismatched rolling eyes, a ceramic dog that seemed half melted, and a chick shaped egg timer with an especially foreboding stare. Donatello was in the middle of explaining an old plow part when you rounded a partition.

You caught eyes with something and stopped dead in your tracks. Behind you Donatello caught wind before slotting himself at your side. His chin hovered just above your shoulder in an attempt to see what had captivated you. You felt his lips move with a taunt before he caught it too.

Across from you both sat the oddest little astronaut man.

Bewitched, you walked out from Donatello’s hover. The little figure was nearly a foot tall and shaped with snowman type ovals. His suit plumped out around him and there was a display panel with a grey screen on his chest. His face was twisted up in a sort of horror and his little blue eyes were painted as if we were staring straight up. Part of the helmet carved into his cheeks and on his head sat an opaque metallic visor that shined in a rainbow of colors from the lights overhead.

“This is terrible…” You murmured with an odd glee. 

At some point, Donatello had joined you and was staring at the figure with kinked brow.

“This is it. This is definitely it.” Coming in close to the shelf it was on put you at eye level with the figure’s boots.

Donatello’s arm extended past you and lifted a little tag. “It’s 10 dollars.”

“A steal.” You quickly responded, already imaging the horror in your roommate’s face. You could feel his eye turn on you to evaluate the strange aura you were putting off. With no time to decipher it, you reached up to touch what was rapidly becoming relic in your mind and stopped short as you reviewed the blank display. “What do you think this was?”

“Let’s see.” From where he was catty-cornered against your left side, his arm came up again. This time its twin joined from the other side and you were finally broken free from the astronaut’s curse. Now ensnared by Donatello’s body, you took quick note of how no part of him actually touched you. He lifted the figure off the shelf and brought it down near your chest. He then rotated it to look underneath the astronaut’s boots and found a screwed panel there. “Hold this for a moment.”

You reached up dumbly and the figure was relinquished into your care. One of Donatello’s arms retracted and you listened as his coat rustled with movement. The length of it brushed your leg and you had to remind yourself it was an accident.

“Steady.” He spoke clearly, his head slotting beside yours. One of his arms then ducked down to hold the bottom of the astronaut while the other came up with a tiny screen driver.

You blood pressure was steadily climbing. “Where’d you get that?”

“I use it to tune my glasses.” He responded as if it were a simply fact of the world and managed to remove a screw. The hand underneath came up to pinch the tiny thing and he then addressed the second one.

“You never did explain those…” You had no idea what you were even remembering at this point.

“That’s true.” The phrase seemed absentminded as the other screw came loose. He then picked the latch and exposed a battery pack. “There’s no corrosion; that’s a good sign.”

He gave an interested hum and replaced the cover without putting the screws back in. He then pressed a finger to the figure in a way of having you turn it over. You got about halfway before he created a counter pressure to stop you.

“There’s a seam; we’ll have to wedge it open to see what’s inside.”

The part of your brain that had the worried response about breaking open an antique disintegrated as Donnie turned his head inward by a small degree. It meant his breath was just barely cascading across your cheek and the kissing urge not only resurfaced, it took hold of your mind.

“Hold it tight.”

You must have done what you were told because he was transfixed by whatever he was doing. You could scarcely hear the sound of the screwdriver against the odd material of the astronaut, but it was a white noise compared to your companion. Twisting incrementally from where he’d caged you, you stared openly at Donatello’s profile. He was focused on his work and didn’t seem to notice you’d been hypnotized for the second time that day. You traced the mask and caught the faint branching of a scar that seemed to extend out from where his ear would be.

Why had you never noticed that before?

Warning signals went off and you ignored them in favor of examining his eyes. You had done so a many number of times, but he always distracted the process with a litany of other micromovements. With his attention elsewhere, there were no such hindrances and studied how his lids moved. His brow came down in a lovely way as he worked and you could see the faintest shake of the digital display in his lenses. His snout shaped down to his lips which had the barest wrinkle of concentration. Your heart buoyed under a wave, dipping down and then shooting right back to the surface. His skin had a captivating hue to it and the texture of which seemed similar to his hand. Though his features were sharp, the plump of his cheek rippled as something gave him difficulty. You were moving before you could register what was happening.

It felt like your vision blurred and it did as you pressed your lips near the middle of his jaw bone. The action itself was chaste and rapid; it felt like a lightning strike as you tried to snap right back to where you had once been as if you hadn’t violated a very clear contract.

The reaction was immediate.

Donatello stopped what he was doing and his eyes widened before he caught the move by the throat. He then slowly rounded on you and you watched the synthetic veneer fall in place as he did. It was all encompassing and even if your usual observation skills were available, you knew there was no way you could have deciphered anything there. “What are you doing?”

It would be so easy to say ‘nothing.’

It was just two syllables.

You’d have taken anything, but your brain had sputtered to a halt.

“Y/N.” He pressed.

You could count the amount of times he had said your name on a single hand.

What a useless fact to remember during all this.

“Hey.” There was a scolding quality to his voice and for whatever hellish reason, he leaned in closer.

“I-”

“You?” His narrowed gaze said he was mad.

Of course he was.

It made complete sense.

You had basically stolen from him.

He also looked impossibly pretty.

You were leaning forward again and your whole body surged to give into the motion. You lips hit the corner of his mouth and your momentum pushed you up to properly seal his. You could acutely feel every single muscle underneath you as a frown formed there. A knife was plunged directly into the black hole in your chest and it somehow had the ability to pierce it. The gravity there further collapsed in on itself. It hadn’t been long enough to know if it this would be enough dash your desires, but you were sure you’d never try again. Crippled by defeat, you completed the pucker and began the reel yourself in from the catch.

A loud clatter sounded.

The noise couldn’t penetrate the darkness swallowing you up, but a flash of wet heat and pressure skidded the edges of your mind. You tipped backwards and felt the line snap taunt. Donatello shifted and you realized his lips were still against yours. Taking your turn at being unresponsive, he adjusted his hold on you and renewed the gesture for a second time. You attempted to return it in a pathetic showing and he squeezed all the more. Another thought clicked.

He was holding you.

It gave you enough strength to push into the kiss. He accepted it with a massage of his lips and from where you had solidified, you were rapidly shifting to a gelatinous. He broke free long enough to kiss you from another angle and this time you were able to meet him with a closer form to what would have been your usual zeal. Forgetting the signals, your hands disappeared into his coat and you flattened your palms into his sides. You could feel the edge of his shell and hooked your fingers into the first wedge point. Scalded, he adding another layer of fervor which you were finally able to drink in. His arms moved from a crushing hold to cradling the back of your neck as he made the position more comfortable. You stepped in, desperate for just a little more contact when your foot hit something. It made a noise and was enough to surface him specifically.

He pulled away and you felt like putty in his hands. He glanced down and you became keenly aware that you were panting due to lack of oxygen. Still feeling the weight on your lips, you licked them and watched his darkened gaze snap back to you. His face then twitched before the look disappeared.

“Y/N.”

You wanted to apologize, but nothing came out of your mouth past the last vestiges of haggard breaths.

“I’m not sure how you’ll take this.”

The collapsing sensation reared its head from where it lie in wait.

“The figure is broken.”

It seemed abated and you wondered for a moment what he meant.

“We dropped it.” One of the fingers curled around your skull tapped into your hair to get your attention.

You blinked rapidly trying to bring yourself up to speed. “We…” A laundry list of memories before the kiss came back and your eyes widened. “Oh crap.”

He nodded and made sure you were stable before releasing you. You immediately sank down into a squat to review the damage. He observed from overhead as the seam he had been slowly jimmying was essentially cracked from its fall. Picking up the two halves, you slowly rose. He made room and leaned in curiously.

“Well if I wasn’t buying it before…”

He reached out and used a finger to pick at the wires within the mostly empty figure. “It appears this was an alarm clock. I can get it operational if you’ll leave it with me.”

“Nah.” You shook your head and waited until he retracted to try to put the pieces together. With  needle thin fractures, the frame didn’t settle right. You were about to show it to Donatello, when caught a curious amount of surprise sitting openly on his face.

“You…” His head ducked down slightly into his neck as suspicion also flooded him. “… don’t want me fix it?”

“No.” You were pretty sure you’d been clear. “You can take a crack and humpty dumptying him? If it doesn’t work I’m just gonna duct tape it and that’ll be part of the charm.”

He carried his wary nature into taking the halves and pressing them together. Something snapped and for a moment both of you seemed prepared for the astronaut to crumble. Instead, something had connected and it now stood as one cohesive element again.

“You got it!” You took it from him where he was still put off and turned it figure over. “Now it kinda looks like something is trying to get out of his suit. Perfect!”

He remained quiet and you used the astronaut to gesture to the register.

“Ready?”

He nodded and surpassed you. Remembering what had just transpired, you held the figure close as you trailed behind. He was waiting by an elderly cashier who thankfully had no idea anything had happened. You paid, got a little satchel to easily carry the astronaut, and headed out onto the street with Donatello leading the entire time. Once you’d made it a few steps from the door, he steered off to the side and you followed. He’d at least given you enough time to prepare for what you assumed would be a hearty scolding.

“You aren’t going to change your mind?”

Looking to the side with a confused squint you turned it towards him to see he still held the mistrust in his shoulders. “About the clock? No, I honestly don’t care about that.” You tried to sweep your own worries away in favor of opening up your expression for him to search.

He did so immediately and scanned you for what felt like a lengthy amount of time. He then leaned back into a version of calm that held confused tinges as if it was something that had never happened before.

You wanted to press, but he seemed shaken enough.

“Alright.” There was a finality of his voice and he took on a perfected posture as a reprimanding teacher would.

You knew you hadn’t gotten off the hook. Shrinking down into yourself, you lowered your gaze in a way that made you feel very much like the student in your imagined scenario.

“How long?”

You didn’t bring your eye up and wondered how rhetorical he meant it. “I’m sorry…”

“How long have you been holding back?”

Eyes widening, you realized he hadn’t taken your apology the way you meant it. Still partially stuck in your imagination, you weren’t sure what he’d meant even though he’d already clarified. “What?”

He waited in silence.

You took a chance to look at him and he appeared even at first glance. As you searched his face there was a disconcerned quality to it that you couldn’t place.

“I don’t…?” You wished you had paid more attention.

He seemed put out and shifted his weight to one hip. “The kiss.”

He said it so casually that you felt the word fan the embers in your cheeks.

“You were possessed.”

The gust picked up so quickly that instead of spreading, it put the fire out completely.

“You’ve also been upset since we met which appears to be related when you account for your reaction when I didn’t immediately respond.”

The char felt like it was hollowing you out and you wished to simply turn to ash.

“I had no warning. How was I supposed to?”

The guilt poisoning you shifted with a sudden grief as you realized there was a chance he’d only kissed back to calm you down. Earlier models of him made that an impossibility, but after he’d broken his own rules to hold your hand in the cab, you weren’t so sure anymore. Your vision grew unsteady as your refusal to blink caused tears to thickly coat your eyes.

“What is going on with you?” He reached out a finger and pressed it to your forehead to get your attention. “Acting withheld, brooding, and I’ve seen that look before. You’re assuming the worst without discussion.”

His voice was thick with disappointment and did nothing to calm you.

“I’m sorry. I can’t-” You choked, finally allowing your lids to close and cutting off the chance at an overflow.

With your sight cut off you felt the way his finger pulled back before pushing into your forehead once again. “What can I do?”

You shook your head and took a tiny step back to get away from his touch.

“I don’t understand.” There was a grit to his voice.

“You don’t-” It was another false start and you winced at it before balling your fists to try again. “I asked for too much and now…”

You weren’t sure what to do.

If only you could give it voice.

“What have you asked for?”

You hadn’t; that was the problem.

“Didn’t we agree?”

“I took too much.” You clarified in a small voice.

“What?” The hoarse quality was one you finally categorized as growing distress. “Is this regarding the kiss?”

You forced out a nod.

“I returned it, did I not?”

“Exactly!” The force of the sound brought your eye up to him.

He met your declaration with utter confusion.

“Like in the cab…?” Your voice grew smaller with each passing word as the expression didn’t leave his face.

He seemed caught on a response until his brow wrinkled. A throaty hum of irritation came out of him and he closed his eyes as if it took great effort. When he brought them open, he made a stern face that barely masked an undercurrent of worry. With a careful show he brought both his hands up to your face. You flicked a wounded gaze from them to him. Slowly as if persuading a wild animal, he tucked his fingers around your neck while each thumb held your jaw. “I implore you to stop whatever is happening and explain why you’re upset.”

The deep ache swelled up until it reached your eyes. Your vision swirled and in it you saw a mix of troubled purple and green. A distant thought reminded you of his umbrella confession. It was enough to make you swallow the tears down in a great show of force. When you returned from the journey, you found him tracing a small circle along your jaw line. “I tried. I tried so hard to get past the kissing thing. I know you… had already moved past it, but I… couldn’t. I struggled and you’re always getting so damn close and teasing me and I like it. I do; it means so much that you would want to, but I wanted to do right by your experiment. It was getting harder and harder and when you purred in my ear before we got in the cab, I thought I was going to explode. Then you broke your rules to comfort me and while getting to hold your hand for so long was great, I felt terrible that I made you do it over something so…. So…”

His thumb stilled. At some point you narrowed in on his chest and couldn’t pull your gaze away.

“But I could distract myself. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of that, but there you were. Always so fucking close, right against me, but never quite there…” From where your features were pulled taunt, they relaxed as an upsetting realization came to you. “Kinda like how you are in general. Just outside my reach and I understand. We’re different and it’s neither of our faults, but still I lost control and-” You grimaced and wished to turn away but his hold was warm. “I pounced on you and, yes, you returned it, but it felt like… maybe it was for the wrong reasons. I don’t want you to do it just because you think you should or you’re trying to… I don’t know! Please me?”

You gave a little sigh. The heft of the weight hadn’t left, but it had been redistributed.

“I think…” As if scanning him for lint, you did a final sweep before allowing your gaze to raise back to him. “That’s everything?”

A stern look was waiting for you.

He was silent until it was near maddening and the only thing that kept you from giving in to the nervous energy was again his hold on your head.

Then he blinked and you realized he hadn’t in a long time. “We lose control in very different ways.”

You might have laughed at that being his first response, but you also weren’t sure how to take it.

“I believe a portion of blame falls on me. I have not been clear in sharing my results and the…” He looked away and the creasing of his lips made it seem like he was swallowing a sort of chuckle. “…evolving nature of the situation.”

You stared at him dully at first and then with growing suspicion. “Do you think this is funny?”

“A little bit, yes.” He allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up. “You continue to stubbornly care for me in a way that subverts my estimations every single time.”

Indignant, you pursed your lips.

The smile grew a little more than you had ever seen it and he dipped down. Using his hold to angle you he pressed a quick kiss into the pucker before retreating to his original position.

“You-” Staring wide, your mouth stepped in to fill the gap where your brain had left off. “Evolving nature?”

“I can’t imagine the sick clinging that some New Yorkers force others to look upon and I don’t believe my ascertains were wrong. I need notice, but I believe this study has revealed something very different from the hypothesis I posed.”

A tepid amusement continue to waft off him as you searched his face in an attempt to recall what exactly that was. “Your… limitations?”

His thumbs squeezed up making your cheeks squish.

“So is that a conclusion or something else?” You didn’t remember enough from your science classes to recall.

“You are an outlier.”

You knew a vague definition of the word, but the way he said it seemed to express it a way you weren’t sure of. “An outlier?”

His levity fell for just a moment. “I realize I never actually got you that book on statistics.” He clicked his tongue. “Two things in one day if we include the analysis of my glasses. I’ll be sure to rectify that.”

“Okay…?”

“Yes, well, it is a data point that significantly differs amongst others in observations.”

You managed a nod through his thumbs.

“I, for now, won’t get into the whys, but essentially, under certain conditions, it may be excluded from a data set.”

“You’re taking me out of the experiment?” The phrase got out of you before its meaning reached your ears. Fear sparked but a quick squeeze from Donatello smothered it.

“The opposite.” He leaned forward but stopped just shy of the point where he would have gone out of focus. “I was going to give it a few more tests to be sure, but I had come to realize the experiment didn’t serve you because of it.”

You had an idea of what he was getting at, but you were afraid to give it voice.

“You’re novel.” He swept his gaze over you in an appreciative way. “Not an error; this would be considered an exciting statistically possibility.”

You squirmed and reached up. He gave you a nod and you gently took hold of his wrists to stabilize yourself.

“I was distracted by the intrigue and did not voice this, but then, I was not alone. That brings me to your portion of the blame. You did not exercise your control over the experiment or voice your needs.”

“Can you blame me?” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Yes. In fact, I am, right now.”

You tried to squeeze his arm, but he seemed unaffected. 

“Need I remind you…” He trailed off and straightened up out of your space in a way that caused you to let go. You thought of voicing your concern, but he continued to move. One of his hands left your neck and you lost track of it as the other slid around to the base of your skull. It’s grip squeezed tight suddenly and your body reacted by seizing into the spasm. His other arm reappeared to clasp your lower back and dip you back further. He then poured himself over you until he crushed his lips into yours. A meek sound squeaked in your throat as you gave in. He deepened the kiss until the point where your spine began to complain and then he pulled back to laud over you. “You’re the one that decides what you’ll offer. Otherwise, I will take until there is nothing left.”

He had a haunting looking in his eyes that glinted with an unfathomable greed and you saw the fringes of his retreat. Even though you had no leverage, he hadn’t captured your arms. You moved them as quickly as you could to catch him and tug him back. He was thrown off just enough that when you mashed your lips against his, you rocked into the movement enough to part them. You then slotted your tongue in the space, swiping it over his bottom to give him the option to break away if necessary. He chose to crush your body to his and when you licked into him, you found his tongue waiting. In a tangle you were both moving, desperately trying to get enough of the other.

He only allowed the intensity to go on for a few more moments before, in a maddening display of control that you were sure was just to show you what he was capable of, he pulled away. In contrast to how you were utterly wrecked, he released you and set himself as if nothing had even occurred. Hunched over in a way you imagined a goblin and with your hair surely messed beyond fixing without a brush, you tried to muster a glare at him but only succeeded in a drunken smile.

He was either immune to it or still gloating because he simply offered you his hand. “Want to go to those other stores?”

You took it and became aware you didn’t know where your purchase was. You found it by your feet and caught the handle of the bag. “Donatello doing something without purpose?”

He gave a mock sigh as if to mourn his past self.

“Yes, by the way.”

In a perfect rotation, he spun around and did a gentle tug to coax you along with him.

“Is that…” Your free hand trailed up to press the tender plump of your lip. “…something we do now?”

“Must you ask it like that?”

“I’m just trying to set my expectations.”

“It is available, yes.” He gave a huff.

“But not all the time.”

He passed you a narrowed gaze. “Insatiable.”

“No!” You pulled on your connection, but he kept it steadfast. “You said that thing about PDA!”

He seemed unconvinced. “If it can be avoided, I would prefer we do so. Otherwise, I urge you to check with me so I can both be ready and to avoid something like this happening again.”

You nodded thoughtfully and the reality of everything was awash in every inch of your skin.

“Six days.”

“Huh?”

“Our date will be in six days, next Friday. I will finish my business using any means necessary and, if you are available, I’d like to meet at least one more time before then to complete a those last few tests I mentioned.”

“I should check my calendar…” Pretending to think about it, you felt the way Donatello glared at you. “I guess I can make it.”

He was still displeased as he looked ahead. “Pencil me in as you see fit.” Disdain dripped from his words, but you caught something in the wording.

You stopped walking and he seemingly didn’t notice until the tether pulled taunt. “Wait, are you saying…?”

“You’re more excited about this than finally having your date?”

“Not mutually exclusive!” You joked.

He gave you a tug.

“Donnie.”

He didn’t stop, but his speed slowed slightly. “I reserve the right to veto.”

“That one?” You tried to glimpse his face, but he turned it away.

“I have not invoked anything as of yet.”

It was almost too much. The negative feelings from the start of the day no longer seemed real in comparison.

“I am curious about one thing you mentioned earlier.”

“Yeah?” You chirped, trying to resist the urge to swing your conjoined hands.

“You say I’ve been teasing you?”

You blinked. “Yeah…?”

He gave an affirmative noise and you looked up to find you could finally see his face. There was a cocky quality there as if he had been given something he shouldn’t be in possession of.

“Oh.” The syllable popped out of you audible.

“Good to know.” He cast that smug look down on you and ‘wicked’ no longer seemed severe enough to describe him.