Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

.oOo.

April shook her leg as her three classmates ran through the requirements for their final group presentation and asked everyone about their current progress on it. Not that she wasn’t going to be a team player and do her work, although she wasn’t sure why teachers were so hellbent on assigning group projects to college students, especially as the last assignment to end the semester. Truthfully, she used to find these kinds of things fun, working with others on school projects, but the novelty and excitement of it all kind of disappeared in her sophomore year, especially when her grades were on the line.

And it seemed like this time around, her group members were making it a competition to see who would get on her nerves the most during the last stretch of class. 

She was already irritated, after having such a bad morning, and they weren't doing anything to help the situation.

So April decided, why not tune them out? It also didn’t help their case that her group mates were going over stuff she’d already figured out. It wasn't as if she needed their input on her portion of the work anyways. In all honesty, they were wasting her time, and while usually, April would see that as them trying to get closer to her, she couldn't find it in her to bother today. Maybe later that day or even during the weekend, she'd feel bad about wanting them to leave her alone, but she had more important things to worry about, and that was her best friend currently texting her about some kind of mess-up his tech team was dealing with in the robotics club. 

“So, what do you say, April?” One of the girls–Lisa— was trying to get her attention. 

April quickly looked up from her phone, blinking at the group before tucking it into her pocket. “I’m sorry, what?”

Lisa raised an eyebrow at April, but if she wanted to bring it up, she didn’t. “We were all thinking about going to the cafe across from the library to get a head start on the PowerPoint.” 

When she said that, her eyes cut to another sitting with them, a young man by the name of Dale, and April resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy or anything, but he was a standard ‘nice guy.’ Gave her the whole ‘woe is me, nice guys finish last’ speech after she told him she wasn’t interested in him when he’d asked her out during midterms week, and to say the least, he just wasn’t her type. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that though, she’d told him as much during high school, but, as those guys typically are, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

Unfortunately for April, upon first meeting, he wasn’t that bad of a guy, so he’d done a good job of convincing the hopeless romantics of their teacher-assigned group that April was just playing hard to get. They’d only been in their group for about three weeks, and considering the class only met twice a week, it wasn’t a lot of time together. But if Dale had one thing over April—and it was the only thing he had over April—it was the ability to conform enough to be fast friends with anyone. 

"Oh, well, you see…" April started, but before she could find a viable excuse, the teacher called the attention of the class, informing them class had gone over a couple of minutes and they were free to leave. April busied herself with packing her computer. "Oh rats, I think I'm late to my next class, actually."

Dale frowned, "I thought you had an hour break between this class and your next one?" 

April grimaced. Leave it to him of all people to remember something like that without her explicitly telling him. She tried to laugh it off, "Yeah, but I'm actually late to getting to my next class. So, I'll be off. See you next week!" 

"Wait!" Another girl—Sasha—yelled after her, "hey, what if we walked with you!" 

April stopped in her tracks, just barely outside of the door, swearing under her breath before looking back and giving the three a hesitant smile. She didn't have a problem with the two girls, as a journalism major, their nosiness wasn't too far off from her own, but to say she was excited to have all of them walking with her, Dale included, was a lie. 

She agreed nonetheless. 

And so, they walked out of the building, heading to the main campus to go into the English building, with her and Dale sandwiched between the two chipper women, trying to incite conversation with her and Dale. They did seem like nice people, so talking to them wasn't that bad, but the conversation always seemed to circle around Dale. They were honestly talking Dale up as if they'd known him all their lives, and if April hadn't seen him get his card declined at the convenience store around the corner, she would have been sure he was paying them off. April thought about ditching them more times than she'd ever thought about suddenly disappearing in her whole life, but knew there was no way she could positively face them in their next class if she did.  

Social convention truly was a bitch. 

They were really good at talking about themselves though, whenever they weren't trying to force a romance between her and Dale, April could barely get a word in about herself. It wasn't like April hadn't taken the backseat in a conversation before, but it felt super, well, dismissive. As much as she didn't want to talk to Dale, he knew how to add her back into a conversation. She would be thankful for him if she didn't know what he was doing. 

It got tiring after a while, so once April saw the English building, she lightly jogged to the door, looking back at the group to express her 'sincere' apologies and how she couldn't wait to see them next week for class. Because of her lack of attention, she'd missed the blurry figure on the other side of the glass door walking towards it, so she jumped back as it was yanked open, just avoiding being collided into.

"Hey, watch it—April?" 

She looked up at the taller figure upon recognizing the voice of her friend. "Donnie? What are you doing here?" 

She took him in, arms full of a box holding robotic scraps, black locs messily pulled back with his trademarked purple bandana, missing a few in the front and letting some locs fall in his face, and black, square glasses slightly out of place on his nose. She looked at him, looking back at the plaque on the building to make sure she had the right place, and then looked back at him before smirking. 

"The English building? I didn't know you could read?" She joked. 

He rolled his eyes jokingly before throwing his head back in contempt. "Scoff. Of course, I, of all people, would know how to read, April, but if you must know why I'm here, a certain head in the clouds brother of mine had my dorm key, and I am here to retrieve it." 

She chuckled, "Classic Leo. Must be hard having to still live with your twin even in college, huh?" 

He gave her an exhausted look, "It is when he insists on doing petty things like taking my keys when I tell him he didn't budget enough to order takeout three nights in a row." His eyes cut to something behind her before nodding slightly to it, "Those friends of yours?" 

The three forgotten classmates shyly walked up to them when April looked at them. Sasha and Lisa both gave her a small wave, giving them quiet hellos, eyes darting between her and Donatello, while Dale continued to stare at Donatello. They stood about the same height, Donatello had maybe a few inches over him, but April couldn't help the chuckle rising in her chest at the idea of Dale trying to size up Donatello. 

April waved a hand to them, "Donnie, these are my, uh, classmates. Sasha, Lisa, and Dale. Donnie, you remember Dale from high school." 

When Donatello's face didn't light up with recognition, it suddenly occurred to April that the only one out of the four brothers that actually saw Dale was the oldest, Raphael, who was only a year younger than her. Although she knew for a fact that she’d complained about him to all four of the brothers during those four years of high school, being two and more years younger than her, there weren’t many classes that they all shared together. The opportunities to point him out were slim to none. She decided to pocket that information for a later date. 

Dale held his hand out to shake Donatello's, but Donatello just stared before motioning to the box in his hands. April rolled her eyes, knowing if Donatello really wanted to, he could carry the box under one arm, but she guessed he really didn't want to. Instead, Donatello just nodded at him. 

Not knowing what else to do, Dale awkwardly clapped his hands together, clearing his throat. "So—"

April didn't need to be a rocket scientist to know whatever Dale was going to say afterward wasn't good. She grabbed Donnie by the sleeve of his oversized purple jacket, dragging him in the door. 

"Wow, good times, right? Well, we better go get that key then, right, Dee?" 

"But I already—"

"Okay, bye guys!" 

Despite his slight interjection, Donatello let April drag him back into the building by the hand, even dragging his student ID out of his pocket single-handedly, swiping it against the machine that would grant him entrance further into the building, even though he definitely didn’t need to. Still, he let April lead him away from the door until she was sure their figures couldn’t be seen through the front windows. 

April let out a groan, leaning against the wall she was hiding behind, though she honestly didn’t need to. It was a habit she’d developed sneaking around campus and sticking her nose where it shouldn’t be. The need to be hidden overseeing any logic in her actions. “Great, now I’m gonna be stuck in an empty classroom for half an hour.” 

“Assuming the class is even empty in the first place. It's possible you'll have to sit outside the door.” Donatello murmured, moving to lean against the wall with her, gently putting his box down between his feet as if it was an actual real-life baby. April knew, to him, it was just as precious. “There’s a lounge area on the second floor, we can sit there if you want until your class starts.”

She smiled gently at the offer, “Thanks, Dee. But don’t you have to get your stuff–” she motioned to the box, “—to wherever you were getting it to?”  

“It’s just going to my room. I'm not ready to let this baby stay in any room where I can't immediately get to it,” he answered with a shrug, “besides, it’s not like you nor I have anything better to do until your class starts. I don’t mind keeping you company for thirty minutes.” 

Deciding not to argue, she thanked him, laughing as she said, “I just had a really weird thirty minutes, you have no idea how much I could use your company.” 

He reached down to pick up his box. “Well, if it’s my company you need, I’ll graciously make time for you later, and we can stop by that cafe you like so much on the way to your dorm.” 

April immediately felt her mood brighten at the idea of the quiet cafe’s sponge cakes she’d indulged in during her most stressful seasons.

“And also, why in Einstein’s Law were you trying to reintroduce me to someone I clearly don’t know?” 

She knew he would bring that up sooner rather than later. She slowly moved towards the stairs, making sure Donatello wasn’t getting left behind, “Actually, you do know him, you just don’t realize you do.” 

“You’re as ominous as you’ll ever be.” 

“Okay, you know that guy in high school that had a crush on me?”

Donatello's eyes widened, looking back towards the entrance as if the boy was still there, before looking at April with bewildered amusement. “Wait, that was Vin Diesel? We really need to work on your nicknaming skills, I was expecting someone at least a little hotter than that.” 

“Can you focus on the matter at hand here?” She demanded, giving his shoulder a light tap, signaling him to wipe the smirk off his face. “I didn’t know you thought Vin Diesel was hot.” 

“Eye roll. I do not, but you aren’t supposed to give guys like that an A-lister celebrity nickname. You need to go with something plainer to really sell it.” 

She bit back a chuckle, “Oh yeah, like what, Nickname Genius?”

“Something kind of hurtful, like Caillou.”

At that, April did let out a laugh, shoving him slightly so he didn’t drop his box. Not that he would have minded a harder hit, he’s been friends with her long enough that he knew April couldn’t keep her hands to herself when she started a giggling fit. “I think you’re hanging out too much with Leo, he’s being a horrible influence on you.” 

"Oh please don't say that, I might actually drop out." 

“Don’t say that, I’d miss you too much.” 

Donatello sent her a small smile for about half a second before putting his bravado back up, but it still made a spark of joy run through April, “Yeah, you’d better.” 

She smiled smugly, skipping ahead of him. “It’s cool, I know you’d miss me too.”

.oOo.

April looked up from her computer for the nth time as her good friend and wonderful roommate of two years, Sunita, speed walked through their small dorm room, trying to get everything she needed for her class. April wasn’t sure what a culinary major needed with three separate notebooks for a hands-on cooking class, but she didn’t really need to. Her friend moved at her own speed, and who was April to disturb that?

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to class? I really don’t mind,” April said, slumping against her mountain of pillows. 

Sunita glanced at her from over her shoulder, “Thanks, but no thanks, April! Like I said before, Dale’s in my class, and I don’t want you to have to deal with him when you don’t have to!” 

April rolled her eyes. She’d told her about Dale and his insistent entourage’s actions after class today. Although it wasn’t as if she didn’t know before, April couldn’t help but rant about the whole thing since it started when she realized Dale was in her class. If Sunita wasn’t so kind-hearted, April was sure she would have already requested a room change. 

“Sunita, I don’t want to change up my whole schedule just because someone can’t handle a ‘no’.” April started to stand, walking over to the door to grab her shoes. Sunita shrugged, knowing once April made her mind up about something, there was no talking her out of it. “‘Sides, I’m meeting Donnie at the cafe by the science building.” 

“Ooh, pick me up a desert!” She was joking but April still mentally reminded herself to do so. “So, you’re going with Donatello?”

April raised an eyebrow at the tone, but tried not to stay with it too much, “Yeah, why?” 

She shrugged her now barely closing backpack on her shoulder. April grimaced at the possible weight of the bag, but Sunita carried it like it was a bag of grapes. Walking to the door, giving April enough room to open it, she smiled–the picture of innocence that April was elected to believe, “Nothing, I just thought it was cute.”

They walked through the halls in comfortable silence for a moment before Sunita asked, “Speaking of which, does Donatello know about Dale?” 

April shrugged, “He does now. After my research group all but stalked me to my last class, I happened to see him on the way. I basically had to use him to scare them off.” 

“Wow, it must be nice having a boyfriend with scary dog privileges.” 

April nearly stumbled on her own feet. Woah, woah, woah, excuse her?

“Uh, sorry, having a what ?” 

Sunita’s face went from confusion to realization to embarrassment in a matter of seconds, and April would have felt bad if she wasn’t already flustered with disbelief because really? Donatello? Her boyfriend? Is that how they came across?

“Are you two not–-oh my gosh, I’m really sorry.”

“I was… just shocked, don’t sweat it.” She said that and yet it felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest at the idea. She hoped it didn’t show on her face. She did plan on being a news--hitting reporter, she should make sure her poker face was down-packed. “Donnie and I are just friends, I’ve known him since we were kids, so, you know.” 

“It’s just a few times I’ve seen you two together–-” she started but shook her head, and while April could never see herself getting upset at Sunita, she felt like shaking her by the shoulders until she spilled the beans. “Nevermind, I guess I misunderstood. ‘Guess that’s what I get for not minding my own business.” 

She laughed it off, and April did a horrible job of trying to do the same. Even though the walk to Sunita’s class was short and uneventful, April’s mind couldn’t help but circle back to the topic. Did she and Donatello really act couple-like? So much so that someone who’s known her two whole years and only seen Donatello a total of maybe five times would think of them as a couple? Did anyone else consider them going out a possibility, or was it just because Sunita didn’t know the technical genius like April did? Sure, his brothers and father would poke fun at the idea with Donatello in the past, but that was typical family joking, so April wasn’t sure if it really counted. 

So wrapped up in her thoughts, April stayed outside Sunita’s class upon dropping her off long enough that Dale realized she was at the door, and quickly stepped away from his station to talk to her. 

“Who was that guy you were with earlier?” 

She crossed her arms, weight shifting to one of her legs, very visibly showing annoyance, “What, no greeting first?” 

He stuttered, “Uh, hey, April, so who was that guy with you earlier?”

“Clearly someone I know.” 

“Well, yeah, but how?"

He was pressing for answers, and April wasn’t in the mood and didn’t have the time to beat around the bush about it. She had somewhere more important to be, after all. “If there’s something you wanna know, spit it out already.” 

He chewed his lip for a second before finally blurting out, “Is he your boyfriend or something?” 

This was the second time someone referred to Donatello like he was her boyfriend, but the effect was still the same as the first. Just a semi-truck of confusing emotions hitting her dead-on and making her reconsider her stance on that ‘ we’re just besties ’ comment she so readily says. Although, she knows there’s a time and place for trying to word vomit a coherent conclusion to all of that, and here in front of a man would jump at any chance to get with her was certainly not it. 

“Whether we are or aren’t together isn’t really any of your business, Dale.” 

Only after saying those words does April realize how damning they are. Because the conclusion Dale came up with was written so plainly on his face that April was shocked he hadn’t physically written it himself in sharpie. Yet despite it being so clearly on his face, Dale didn’t look rejected, or like he’d given up. He looked challenged. Not necessarily aggressive, but like he was going on the offense. Like something that was his was at risk of being taken away.

She had to get out of there before she seriously gave him a piece of her mind. 

“Look, if that’s all you needed, I’ll be out of your hair,” she began walking away before remembering who exactly she was talking to, “Sorry, I meant, figuratively.” 

.oOo.

“Heh, that’s actually hilarious.” 

“Can you not quote Scott Pilgrim right now, I’m having a midlife crisis.” 

April’s voice could barely be heard from the way her hands pressed against her face. She’d just finished recounting the previous events, completely omitting the fact two people that April knew thought that she and Donatello had a thing for each and how despite how confusing it all was, there was a very, very tiny part of her that was content with the idea. Sure, she’d told him Dale thinks of him as her boyfriend, but it was easily overlookable because it was Dale, someone who wanted to be in a relationship with her. After years of trying, she was sure Dale would see competition from a tree blowing at her. 

The face Donatello had made when she told him that had baffled her though. It wasn’t disgusted or disgruntled, but she was too scared to read too much into it, so she didn’t. She’d blown right past it, and he’d let her. She was worried about the part of her that was upset about it.

Not even the slice of shortcake that sat in front of her was enough to pull her out of her slight funk.

Donatello shrugged, taking a long sip from his water with a lemon in it. “Wow, this whole thing must really have you down, you love throwaway lines like that.”

“I just–this sucks a lot, Dee.” She said, finally letting out the whiney tone she’s tried so hard to keep in. She didn’t want to complain about it, she wanted to appear as if she had it all under control. “Why did he have to wait this long to be so persistent? He wasn’t even this bad at prom!” Granted, he didn’t go. The shame of being left alone at a very public and extravagant promposal a week before prom apparently sours the whole experience for a person.

(Not that April could relate. She had a ball with her plus one.)

“To be fair, it’s not like he had a group to help him be this persistent back in high school. Three people constantly badgering you about your social and romantic endeavors is way more effective than just one after all.” He took a long sip of his drink, “If it were me, though, I would have told them to buzz off by now.” 

“I know that, the clear disinterest in them earlier was enough of a tell.” Finally taking her hands off her face, laying them flat against the table, April slumped in her seat with a hefty sigh, “I just wanted to make friends with these girls, I hate that Dale managed to do it first.” 

“‘Nice guys’ who prey on the empathy and good nature of others hardly qualify as ‘friend’, April, but why don’t you just, oh, I don’t know, not care?” 

“I don’t.”

“And yet, here you are, talking about it with that troubled look on your face without even touching your favorite dessert from the overpriced cafe you love so much.” He’d made a big show of waving his hand over her cake, as if she didn’t realize it sat in front of her untouched, “Now explain to me, my dear friend, how much you don’t care.” 

April huffed, grabbing a fork and all but stabbing a piece of the cake and shoving it in her mouth in spite. It didn’t take her very long to realize that he actually wanted her to answer. “It’s a class thing.” 

“Except I remember last semester you blocked your entire class' messaging board because one, count them, one of your classmates insisted that Jupiter Jim’s First Last Trip to the Moon The Sequel shouldn’t be considered a cult classic. So, pray tell, what makes this so different?” 

“Okay,” she sighed, “it’s just that I thought it’d be really cool to be friends with those girls.” 

He nodded, waiting until she had a few more bites of her cake, “They did look pretty cool, but I can’t imagine being this stressed about a few girls who are so into gossip culture that they can’t see they’re making someone uncomfortable, much less a junior reporter, who’s job is to be in someone else’s business. No offense.” 

She waved him off, “Being in someone else’s business isn’t all I do, but that’s another argument for later. But the problem here is that they’re already Dale’s friends, and they listen to him rather than what might be true.” For example, believing April has feelings for Dale despite her ducking him every chance she gets. 

“Sounds like lackeys rather than people. And that’s where the dating thing comes in, right?” 

“I mean, yeah. They really wanna pair me up with Dale. The past few weeks they've just been going on and on about how it’s a shame me and Dale are the only single ones in class.” And April was about 83% sure that wasn’t true, but it wasn’t like she’s had the chance to get to know her classmates like that. 

Although the more April thought about this, the more likely Lisa and Sasha were only interested in pairing her with Dale because they both were single, and not out of loyalty to Dale. 

“And you’ve obviously expressed the desire to stay single?”

“In so many words? Yes.” 

Donatello rolled his eyes. “I change my mind, they seem horrible. I honestly can’t imagine you ever being friends with anyone like that, let alone two of them, so what’s the deal?”

“I just wanted to make some new friends, Dee.” It sounded so childish when she said it like that, but it was true. Her freshman-year roommate ended up transferring, leaving her to suffer through her first year with no roommate or possibility of companionship on that front. No matter how many clubs she’d joined, or how many campus jobs she got, she wasn’t able to connect to any of her other classmates or coworkers. The only friend she’d made during her college life was Sunita, and April chalked that up to dumb luck that Sunita was into the same stuff as her and also her roommate. The relief that came when she found out Leonardo and Donatello would be attending college with her sent her on a month-long high cause it meant, even with the hardships of deadlines and midterm tests and finals, she wouldn’t be swimming in loneliness. 

As much as she hated the group project and the obsessive need to meddle in someone else’s life, Lisa and Sasha were in her major and she’d hoped this time together would have sparked some kind of friendship or at the very least kinship with those girls, but Dale’s resurfacing affections for her were really cramping her style. And sure, they didn't get her like Sunita and the Hamato brothers, but it's not like every interpersonal relationship is just going to click as theirs had; some of them needed work. Or at least, that's what April repeatedly convinced herself. 

As much as April hated to think of it as such, it was an act of desperation.

Donatello watched as April came to terms with all this. He took a deep breath, looking at war with himself before letting out a small humming noise. April blinked up at him, wondering what was going on in his brain that ran a hundred miles a millisecond. 

“Don’t you think you deserve—” he started, then stopped himself, sighing. “Do you think that if you, very hypothetically, had a boyfriend, that it would help?”

Would it? April hadn’t really thought about whether actually having a boyfriend would help, but it would, wouldn’t it? In theory, if Lisa and Sasha were only interested in the idea of her and Dale because they were the only singles in the bunch, her having a boyfriend would not only make them drop Dale as a possible love interest but would also prompt them to talk about other topics. If April had a boyfriend, the pressure to get one would no longer exist. Also, since Dale wasn’t taking ‘I’m not interested’ as an answer, I swift ‘I have a boyfriend’ should make him leave her alone altogether. 

“I guess that would help a bunch. Might just solve the whole damn problem.” 

“Then, how about me?”

If April’s eyes could fly out of her head from shock, she was sure they would at this point. She could tell how flustered Donatello was just by his posture; one of his thumbs tapping against the table, his other hand up and messing with the leg of his glasses, and he wouldn’t look her in the face. 

"Of course," he quickly interjected, realizing what he'd just said, "it would be very transitional, it wouldn't even really be considered an actual romantic relationship by all accounts. It'd be just for show." 

"Are you suggesting we fake date each other? Would that even work?" 

He shrugged, "We hang out enough as is, you know. Things don't really have to change that much 'cause we're not in the same classes, but I'm willing to put on a good show and pretend whenever you need me to."

“Donnie,” she pressed a hand to his, pulling it down so he stopped messing with his glasses, and making him look at her,  “you don’t have to do that for me.” 

There was a touch of a smile on his face, “Oh come on, I’ve said it before, haven’t I? For you, I'd do just about anything.” 

His eyes and tone were so soft, so delicate that she almost felt inclined to believe anything he said. 

Hesitantly, he loosely wrapped his fingers around hers, and April noticed his hands were warm, way warmer than they usually were. "We only have a couple of months left in the semester, so because it means so much to you, and please don't try to deny it does, I'll pretend to be your boyfriend." 

April couldn't stop herself from blinking in disbelief. Donatello spoke his words, slowly and clearly enough that she could understand, and yet she barely heard anything over the rushing in her ears. 

She licked her lips, “Within reason, right?” She joked. She had to. If not, she would fall into the tidal wave of Hamato Donatello and would never find her way ever again, and just on that thought alone, she wondered if she was already fucked before anything ever even began.

Still, not even realizing the array of emotions he’d unleashed into his best friend, Donatello smirked, “Yeah, within reason.” 

And thus, April O’Neil and Hamato Donatello began their fake relationship. 

.oOo. 

Donatello, in standard Donatello fashion, didn't think it was a good idea to go into such a thing as fake dating without some type of game plan, especially since they’d be doing it for a couple of months. While April appreciated the boy’s attention to detail, she wasn’t 100% sure it was necessary, but seeing as Donatello was doing her a favor in this, she decided to let it slide. Even if ‘letting it slide’ was having to listen to Donatello lament about what type of boyfriend he should be. 

“Donnie,” she sighed as he looked through lists of musicals for the perfect persona on his phone, “while I love the charisma, that isn’t really necessary.”

“April, how can you expect me to put on a proper performance if I don’t know what role I’m playing? It’s like you want me to fail.” And yeah, there goes that drama kid resurfacing in him. 

The blank look she sent him was enough to have him groan. “Look, Dee, it’s not like I need you to do some grand gesture around these guys every time you see them, I just need to name-drop you and for you to back me up.” Hopefully, it wasn’t as if April was certain that doing just that would make the whole situation disappear, but she would rather slowly test the waters instead of diving start into the deep end. 

Although, from the pouty look on Donatello’s face, he’d been prepared to bring out the big guns automatically. 

“Besides,” she sang, sending him a goofy smile, “if I were to start dating anyone, I wouldn’t want it to be some weird JD replica that could hack a supercomputer.” 

He snorted at that, “As if I’d ever force you to put on a Veronica persona. Although, I probably could.” 

“Ha! In your dreams.” Yeah right, April knew all he needed to do was say ‘pretty please’ and she would, but she had a reputation to keep. “But is there anything specific we should have figured out about all this ?” 

“Considering your reason for refusing to let me perfect my ingenious performance, I think we can just play it by ear. We’ve never had a problem with doing stuff like that before, it shouldn’t cause us too much trouble to do so now I’d imagine.” 

She nodded, “So the only sure thing is that we’re dating.”

“Since high school,” he responded quickly, and April raised an eyebrow. “It’d be easier and give us a reprieve. Trust me.” 

“Sure, you’re the mastermind behind this.” She let out a laugh when he lit up upon being called that. April couldn’t believe that even though Donatello was almost directly involved in the conflict, spending time with him and coming up with the most harebrained scheme made a sucky 24 hours turn into a pretty good day. That was one of the things she loved about being friends with him, even if he danced on her last nerves sometimes, he was good to her. He helped her out in his own way, and no matter what happened, he could always lift her mood. Even now as she could feel exhaustion chipping away at her.

Her phone buzzing in rapid succession brought her attention to the phone that sat neglected in her pocket for the better part of the evening. She pulled it out, seeing she’d gotten a handful of texts from Sunita.

Sunita [5:54] we baked in class today so ill try to save you come treats  

Sunita [8:15] heeyy im visiting my uncle after class so dont wait up for me ^^

Sunita [8:17] he who shall not be named kept asking me about a boyfriend that you have??? but youre single right??

Sunita [8:17] i didnt say anything tho, i told him i didnt know anything  >:o

More concerned with how late it was than the content of Sunita’s text, April let out a small swear. She texted Sunita that she would talk to her when she got back tomorrow. April considered asking Donatello what she should say to Sunita, but April shrugged it off. That was a problem for tomorrow’s April. Right now all she wanted to do was get some cookies to share with Sunita and for her best friend, now turned fake boyfriend, to walk her to her dorm. 

Donatello, of course, agreed, dramatically stating, “What is that if not the role of a boyfriend?”

Instead of clowning him like she usually would, she just gave him a shove before heading to the counter and ordering the cookies to hopefully go with whatever Sunita baked in class. It didn’t take long for them to make their way to her dorm, and April listened as Donatello ranted about the software project he was working on with a “pretentious child prodigy” apparently, and how it was cramping his style. She didn’t understand half of the terms he was throwing out, but still listened and nodded along which is all he could have asked for. She felt comfortable listening to him talk and not needing to add anything. She threw in a couple of “what a twerp” to show solidarity, but other than that, she was quiet, letting him speak uninterrupted for the ten-minute walk.

“And here we are, my fair April, your dorm.” 

She rolled her eyes fondly, “You’re overselling it a little bit.”

“Overselling? Me? Never." 

April unlocked her door, opened it a little, and saw the lights still off, meaning Sunita didn’t stop by the room before visiting her family; she always left something on her way out. She felt the strong pull of her bed after such a long, eventful day and was only stopped from entering when Donatello loosely wrapped a hand around her wrist. 

Donatello looked her over for a moment before stepping forward and hesitantly putting his hands on her shoulders. 

April felt her heart just about punch through her ribs, thinking he was going to try to kiss her. Instead, she tensed when Donatello pulled her into a hug. 

Ever the gentleman, he made sure his hands didn’t stray farther than her upper back, but the contact didn’t stop the shock of the intimate–on Donatello's part–act. One of his hands pressed flat against her scapula, but one pressed against the back of her neck, slightly pressing her face against the soft cotton of Donatello’s sweater. Quickly realizing that her arms were stuck by her sides, she moved to return the hug, letting out a deep, pent-up breath and slugging against him as Donatello squeezed just a minuscule amount.

April tried to convince herself that the shiver running up her back was just because of the novelty of Donatello’s hugs, which are usually few and far in between. 

When they finally pulled away, April couldn’t help but notice Donatello looked as flustered as she felt, but she could easily chalk it up to him not being used to initiating that much physical contact with her. It was usually the other way around, so the idea of him being just shocked and out of sorts wasn’t lost upon her. 

He reached down at his pocket, messing with the chain hanging from his belt loop that he always carried in case he needed something to do with his hands, “Well, good night, April.”

She nodded, “Yeah, good night, Dee.” 

She closed the door slowly, leaning against the door once it clicked shut. She couldn’t wrap her mind about being so affected by a hug, so much so that she didn’t want to ever leave his arms, or the comfort of his sweater pressed against her cheek, smelling strongly of the laundry detergent and generic bar soap and familiar yet different. 

April wasn’t even sure if Donatello was still on the other side of the door, and yet she let out a loud groan before peeling herself away from the door. “Oh, man.”

She needed a good night’s sleep.

Chapter Text

.oOo.

April was sitting on her bed watching movies on her phone with a cup of tea when Sunita finally came back into the room a little past noon. She came bearing gifts in the form of muffins she’d made in class and a container of leftovers she’d had at her uncle’s place. Never one to say no to free food, April immediately moved from her spot over to the small desk they shared in the corner of the room, wordlessly inviting Sunita to sit with her. She put her phone on the table so Sunita could watch with her, but it went unnoticed as April listened to her recount the tales of her visit, immediately telling her the funnier sides of whatever family drama had gone down. 

“So,” Sunita started, excitedly patting her hands on the table, “this boyfriend that you have?” 

April hid the way her face cringed by taking a sip of her cup, making sure to sigh as convincingly as possible. "So, I didn't tell you the truth yesterday." 

"So it is Donatello! I knew it!" 

April let out a breathy chuckle. Sunita hadn't even let the words come out of her mouth before gloating. "Yeah, it's Donnie. Sorry, I didn't tell you before, we were… keeping it a secret." She kept her tone even so it didn't come out as a question, but she didn't think Sunita would mind it either. One thing she loved about the young woman was she was trusting enough to take certain people at face value. 

Sunita quickly nodded in understanding, but if April was being honest, it just looked like she was bobbing her head. "No worries, April, you could have just told me the truth. I'm no tattletale." 

April shrugged, keeping her tone light, "Well, I was just a little embarrassed is all! We were supposed to keep it a secret, and you read me like a book.”

"Nonsense, that's what best friends are for after all." 

If Donatello heard that, April was sure as shooting that he would roll over once and die twice. Donatello was of the opinion that a person only has one best friend at a time, because "there simply cannot be more than one best." And while Donatello would never do anything to sabotage April's friendship, trying to outdo the person trying to "steal his spot" wasn't outside of the realm of possibilities. Although, April wasn't of the same opinion, so any attempt of doing so would only fall on dead ears. She knew he hadn't outgrown that habit even though it's been years since she last saw it in action, so she knew he wouldn’t take too kindly to Sunita’s declaration.

As a matter of fact, if she listened close enough, she could probably hear him all the way from the college theater belting out multiple show tunes about betrayal, but April hardly paid the delusions any mind because Sunita had just called herself her best friend and April was feeling a touch too giddy at the notion. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

"Uh-huh. And that's why you should have told me the second I found out, but of all things, I can't believe you told Dale before you told me. " Sunita continued, completely unaware of the universe expanding in April's mind. "Then again, I guess you didn't have much of a choice, huh? Guys like that persist until there’s nothing else to do but give up. Hopefully, Dale’s the type with enough dignity to not flirt with a taken woman." 

April wasn't entirely sure this situation needed an "older cousin" style rant as April liked to call them—one that started off as a tiny tidbit about someone's life and ended with a small lifetime lesson. Still, she knew Sunita meant well so it was easily overlooked. The moment passed after Sunita patted her on the shoulder and thanked her for spilling the bag about her secret relationship, promising to only ask for more details at 3 a.m. during her sleep-deprived stupor during the weekends when she knew April couldn't lie. 

April had to admit she was pretty impressed. Especially considering, though he might never say it out loud and in the open like Sunita, Donatello would probably do the same. 

Not long after that, Sunita had to get ready to go to some meeting for a cultural food club, and busied herself, leaving April once again on the bed with her phone. Around the same time, Donatello texted her, telling her he was around her dorm and needed to talk to her. She'd warned him that Sunita was still there but was leaving soon, dismissing his idea to speak in pig Latin while she was still there because April was rusty at best with the language. She smiled when he went on paragraph after paragraph about how underappreciated he was in his crafts, and how he should have forced her—along with his brothers—to learn the language when he did because of the multiple benefits it could give them. It wasn't lost on her that he hadn't included his father in the group, so she could already imagine what benefits he was talking about.

"Who's got you smiling at your phone like that?" Sunita sang, for some reason now laid across her bed, " Donnie?"

April scoffed, trying to play it cool so her romantic of a (newly appointed) best friend kicked her foot in the air for extra flair. "How'd you know I'm not just super funny?" 

"Come on now, April, if you were laughing at you, you would have laughed out loud by now." 

"Hm," she smacked her lips. Damn, she got her there. "On a completely unrelated note, Donnie's coming over for a little bit."

Sunita smirked, "Is this you telling me to leave?" 

April stuck her tongue out, "No, this is me being a great roomie and telling you who's been here. Or who's about to be, sooner or later." 

They both laughed, continuing to chat about everything and nothing as Sunita emptied her bag to refill it with new notebooks and novels. Not even two minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and April got up to get it. 

Donatello had only just opened his mouth to speak before April cut him off. 

"Do not speak pig Latin in here, I will leave you outside." 

"Dramatic sigh, fine. But you're really missing out on a great opportunity here, April." 

"Hello, Donatello," Sunita greeted, waving at him after April moved to the side to let him in, and smiling when he sent her a small one. "I'm just getting a few things and then I'll be out of your hair." 

He let out a small laugh, "Heh, what a callback." 

April elbowed him gently on her way back to her bed, plopping down on it, scooting towards the end of it, and ignoring the springs groaning back at her, phone sitting pretty in her lap, easily accessible. Donatello followed with a pout, making sure to sit on the bed lightly out of supposed fear of destroying school property. April didn't mind it, nor did she worry, knowing that despite the bed's creaking, it wasn't going to break on her anytime soon. It wasn't hard making conversation with Donatello, quickly picking a topic separate from whatever he had to tell her until Sunita was gone. 

Looking at it, April wasn't sure if how they were acting was "couple" enough now that the fictional cat was out of its fake bag. Sunita originally thought they were a couple despite the thought barely registering in April's mind. However they were acting back then, it was enough to convince the young woman about her relationship status. But April just treated Donatello like he was, well, Donatello. Sure, she had a soft spot for him, and maybe he had one for her that was visible to people who were looking for it, but that was about it. 

Whatever information Sunita was basing her decision on could have been faulty, right? April thought she must have because she kept sneaking glances at the two despite stuffing her bag, there wouldn’t be a need for that if she actually thought they were in a relationship, right? Soon Donatello noticed, raising an eyebrow at April when Sunita's eyes fell away from him. 

April opened up her notes app, typing up her explanation of why Sunita was sneaking glances at the two of them with a somewhat sly look on her face. She felt Donatello's presence before acknowledging him leaning over her shoulder from where he sat beside her, the front of his shoulder bumping against hers. She didn't think much of it, finishing her message and then tilting the screen so he could read it. 

Ever the fast reader, it didn't take long for the message to register, and he grabbed her wrist in shock, damn near using April's hand as a phone case, rereading the message with wide eyes. 

"Wow, April, you work faster than I do when I'm really into a project." he deadpanned. 

"What can I say, a reporter is always ahead of the crowd," she joked, hoping that he wasn't too miffed about being left out of the ‘reveal’. 

"Now I'm not one for sports—"

"Obviously—"

"But this is probably what it feels like to have the star player sit out for the most important part of the game. You're not utilizing me to be my most effective." 

April squinted her eyes at him, but the inquisitive look on his face remained. 

"So your beef isn't with me telling her, it's about you not being here when I did?" 

"This is a team effort, April. You can't spell relationship with just ‘you’, you know."

"You spell it with a couple I's though." 

The look on his face told April he wanted to high-five her for that one, but the twisting of his lips made it more clear that he wouldn't out of principle. As if he couldn’t imagine that her smart mouth would be used against him. It wouldn't keep the smirk off her face about it though. 

"Alright, you two, I'm heading out!" Sunita shouted from the door, closing it without a clear answer from either of them. 

It was then that April suddenly realized how close she and Donatello were. She was practically leaning against him now, and while she knew Donatello wasn't opposed to her invading his personal space and was comfortable enough for her to do so, she was puzzled at how mindlessly she had done it. The conversation they were just having didn't have a need for them to be so close, and yet she still managed to close the distance anyway. Hell, Donatello's hand was still loosely wrapped around her wrist, even though it was now sitting on her thigh. 

April cleared her throat, trying to shake off the part of herself that wanted to make a big deal of it. It wasn't, she wouldn't let it be. 

"So, what did you want to talk about that was so urgent?"  

Donatello blinked a couple of times, that big brain and stream of thought miles away from anywhere April would have been. "Huh? Oh, yes. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears there has been an oversight on the arrangement of things." 

She tilted her head, "What'd you mean, Dee?" 

"I seem to run into Charlie Brown a lot more than I realized I actually do." 

It took a moment for April to get the connection, but once she did, she couldn't even find joy in it because of its implications. 

"Wait, you mean that Dale is in some of your classes?" 

"Oh no, from how you describe him, I doubt he could survive such a jam-packed curriculum, but, April, it's so much worse. He takes the same route as me to at least two of my classes today. I could hardly enjoy the walk to my classes because I could feel the jealous stares on the back of my neck. It certainly wasn't conducive to the learning environment."

She resisted the urge to tell him he’d burn out by the end of his sophomore year if he kept that up. Her shoulders sagged with a groan, “Donnie, I think out of everything, that’s a different issue you should be worried about, right?”

He shook his head, “Absolutely not, April. It’s one thing to have him in class with you, which you do, and that’s very brave of you, but to see him in the hallway and know his eyes are on you? An entirely different thing.”

She could understand that. She’d spent most of her senior year feeling those determined, “love”-struck eyes on her every passing period. She didn’t want to think about being on a large campus like this one and still having to deal with it. 

“He hasn’t approached you or anything, has he?” 

“No, for whatever reason his plan of attack seems to be mid-range staring and evil eyes.” 

If it was anyone else, she would have thought he was making a pun. “Wait, is the reason you came over–?”

“Because I thought he was tailing me? Both yes and no.” Absentmindedly, his thumb started to tap against her wrist. “Taking into account the recent development, I think it’ll be more beneficial to the both of us to lay down a few ground rules about the arrangement. Or at the very least talk about the do’s and do not’s. For instance, this,” he motioned at his hand around her wrist, “Is something like this alright? I wasn’t sure if this was a ‘romantic’ gesture, but when you’re in a relationship, even the most platonic actions can have an air of romance to them, so I think it’s convincing enough.” 

Oh. So he was doing it because Sunita was there? That made sense. Way to think way too much into it, April. 

She nodded, “Casual skinship works with me. Are you?” 

He nodded before looking away from her, squinting as if he was trying to solve a particularly difficult equation. Taking a deep breath, he looked at her with determination before his other hand slowly came up her cheek, fingertips slowly mapping out the skin before pressing against it in a caress. He looked intensely for a shift, any sign of discomfort on April’s softened features. He didn’t want to overstep, and he supposed maybe he should have warned her about what he was doing, but in his defense, he didn’t have his usual bout of touch-aversion–not that it ever really happened with April since they became close–and April wasn’t one to dissuade him when he was feeling particularly touchy-feely. He tried to think of why he wanted to try this specifically and didn’t know how to explain it, even though he was Hamato Donatello, who could vomit an explanation for just about anything except the need to be closer to April. 

April tried to keep her breathing steady to not spook Donatello, but she would be lying if she said Donatello cupping her cheek and staring so closely at her face had no effect on her whatsoever. She tried to keep her expression neutral, taking a deep breath through her nose when his hand glided across her face. His hand could cover the entirety of the side of her face if he really wanted to, and April couldn’t stop thinking about how this same hand was a hand she held when they were kids, leading him off the playground on a rainy day to find a frog to show him because he said he was interested in. 

She looked at him, taking in the bags under his eyes, both from lack of sleep and genetics, brown face dotted with a few moles under his eyes and his lips slightly parted. She never studied Donatello’s face as closely as she did at that moment, and she wondered if he was doing the same to her. 

“Wow,” Donatello breathed, amazement washing over his face, “your face is really warm.” 

She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole, “You’re delusion, anyways–” she lifted her unoccupied hand, hovering it between his chest and shoulder before pressing it against the exposed part of his neck, moving it up until it sat at the base of his neck. He moved closer to accommodate her shorter arms, and when April rubbed her thumb against him in comfort, his eyes fluttered closed. 

“This alright?” 

It took a moment, but Donatello nodded, leaning closer until his forehead pressed against hers. “Yeah, this is fine.” 

“You sure? You sound kinda far right now.” Like he wasn’t all the way tethered to this moment. She feared that he was getting overstimulated and needed a break. 

“No, I’m fine,” he murmured. The hand wrapped around her wrist moved to her elbow, lightly tugging her closer.

“We can hug if you want, that’s never been off the table.” 

Not needing to be told twice, Donatello pulled her into a hug similar to the one he’d given her the other night, the same one that made her feel warm and caressed. April wrapped her arms around him as well, this time, her arms resting on his shoulders and he completely melted in her arms. 

He pressed his forehead against the side of her neck, and April felt a shiver run up her spine. Donatello mistook that as his sign that he’s crossed the line, and moved to remove himself from her. He mumbled a small apology, but April made sure he didn’t get too far, grabbing him by the arms of his sweater. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” he sighed. 

April shook her head, sending him a small smile to hopefully calm his worries. “You didn’t, don’t sweat it.” She could visually see him relaxing, and that made her happy. Once he was reassured that she was perfectly okay, he smiled back at her, and she noticed his eyes were focused, and could feel herself relax as well, taking that to mean he wasn’t as overstimulated as she thought, even as her overexcited heart continued to do a drum solo in her ribcage. And it only seemed to get louder at the thought that wouldn’t stop racing in her head. “I… actually wanted to try something out real quick.”

She waited until Donatello gave her a nod, even though the confusion spilling was tangible enough that she could taste it. Taking a deep breath from her nose, she grabbed one of his hands in both hers, playing with his finger before looking up at him. Too deep in to back out, April bought his hand up to her lips, planting a chaste kiss on his knuckles without breaking eye contact. Although, after letting his hand drop out of hers, she lost the bravado she’d built up by acting before her mind had a chance to talk her out of it. She looked down at her lap before registering whether or not his expression changed.

When she finally found the will to look at him, Donatello’s eyes were blown open, mouth hanging so far open she thought he might have just dislocated it out of shock, face quickly shifting towards a deep maroon. 

“Ah, was that too much?” 

Donatello seemed to blink himself back into existence, closing his mouth with a hum and moving his unoccupied hand to adjust his glasses. He let out a shy laugh, "That might be a little too much for me right now, April." 

She did the same, "Yeah, I kinda figured, sorry." 

That meant kissing was entirely off the table.

Still, he didn't make her let go of his hand, so she counted that as a small victory.  

.oOo.

Walking into her class the next Tuesday afternoon about fifteen minutes late, April was surprised to see some of the students in their groups with the teacher, Ms. Bianca, sitting at her desk focusing on whatever was on her computer, and April felt like kicking herself in the back. The teacher had specifically told them last week that she was giving them until their final to work on the project, generously dedicating their class time to group research and a place to work dedicatedly on their individual papers if they needed. 

With everything going on with Dale and Donatello, April completely forgot she’d intended to ditch this class considering attendance was not mandatory for them anymore.

But considering Lisa was already waving at her, April knew it was too late to turn tail and go back to her dorm. She heaved a sigh before making her way over, forced into the seat next to Dale, which was weird all things considered. She held her tongue as she got her laptop out as the three continued to take about the formatting of the PowerPoint before getting off-topic. 

“Oh, by the way,” Sasha started, leaning against the table and closer to April, “the three of us were talking and we all wanted to know who was that boy you were talking to the other day?”

April raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing Dale who’d strangely–-or not so strangely–-gotten quiet all of a sudden. He even refused to look at her, and she frowned at the idea that Dale would keep the existence of April’s supposed boyfriend from them so they would still give him their support. 

“What, so Dale didn’t tell you?” 

He cleared his voice, shrugging his shoulders, “You were a little vague yesterday, I didn’t want to misunderstand anything,” 

She made sure her voice was sweeter than honey and as sharp as a knife, hoping that it cut enough that Dale could choke on it, “Oh, my bad, shall I be clearer?” 

“No, I don’t think it’s necessary.”

Yeah right, April knew it was because he was just trying to make it look like her options were still open for him. She looked at the girls, asking, “So, what do you want to know?”

Lisa started first, “Who is he? You two looked super close.”

“Well, I sure hope so, 'cause he’s my boyfriend.” 

The other two gasped, absolutely scandalized but still somewhat excited. 

“Oh really,” Dale tried to sound surprised, but to April, it fell short compared to even Donatello’s least dramatic days, “I don’t remember hearing anything about this in high school, did you start dating recently?”

She wasn’t sure if he was trying to sike her out or something by mentioning that, but it did nothing to lighten her tone towards him, “You hadn’t heard about it because I didn’t tell you about it. He’s a very private person, after all. And yes, we have been together since high school.”

“Aw, you guys are high school sweethearts? That’s adorable,” Lisa said, making Sasha scoff at her, motioning toward Dale when Lisa looked at her. “Oh, um, well, you know, high school sweethearts sometimes don’t survive after high school anyways, so you know, anything can happen.” 

Sasha hissed, “Lisa.” 

“But I’m not saying that it’ll happen to you, April! You two looked really cute together.” 

Oh poor girl, bless her heart. Even though April didn’t appreciate that she tried to make Dale feel better by throwing her (albeit fake) relationship under the bus, she had to acknowledge that she didn’t seem to do it spitefully. Maybe later down the line, April will be able to let it go.

She forced a smile, “Thanks, Lisa. Much appreciated.” 

“So, you two have been together since high school?” Sasha asked, trying to take the heat off her loose-lipped friend, “What’s he like?” 

“He’s–”

“Haha, we don’t have to talk about it,” Dale cut in, rearranging his papers and not looking at any of them. He forced an airy tone, trying to show that he wasn’t feeling some type of way about the announcement, but after knowing Dale for four years of high school and two years of college–no matter how unwillingly–she could tell when he was particularly miffed about something. 

“They were just asking questions,” April defended. 

“I know, but I don’t want to talk about this right now.” He quickly changed the subject, forcing all their attention to some requirement in the presentation that they’d all overlooked. 

April didn’t like how curt Dale was being, and from the look on Lisa and Sasha’s faces, it was also making them very uncomfortable, so they all decided to drop it. The project preparation went quietly, mostly with Lisa and Sasha whispering to each other, only talking to April and Dale when they needed some type of help. April pulled out her phone, sending an angry text to both Sunita and Donatello about how close she was to yanking out her hair but gave no other explanation.

Halfway through the class session, Sasha and Lisa decided they were going to head out, having other plans they needed to get to. 

Once they were gone, April immediately turned her attention to Dale, who was already packing his stuff to leave, and honestly, April thought his finally giving up would make her feel better, but she didn’t account for him becoming so mean all of a sudden. 

“Why’re you being like this?” 

Dale shrugged on his backpack, sighing, “I just didn’t wanna talk about this secret boyfriend of yours. I don’t think it’s fair to me.” 

“Fair to you?” April reminded herself to keep calm, not wanting to cause a scene for some of the students littered across the classroom, showing restraint April didn’t realize she had reserved. “Me having and talking about my boyfriend isn’t fair,” she paused, “to you.” 

“April, think about it like this,” he started, and April immediately started packing her own stuff, basically throwing it in her bag blindly. “April, hear me out.” 

She was up and out of her seat before he even finished, “Absolutely not, have a nice day.” 

Dale, showing that even when he couldn’t benefit from it, was ever the persistent type, following behind her as she left the class. She was a few doors away from their class when Dale stopped her, grabbing her wrist to keep her from walking away from him, “Okay, okay, let me explain then.”

She snatched her hand away and folded her arms, “You have less than three minutes–even less than that if I think you’re not saying anything important.” 

Dale took a deep breath, “I just think I liked you first, and honestly, it’s just unfair you didn’t even give me a chance before deciding to date this–pretentious dude outta nowhere when you knew I had a crush on you.” 

Excuse him? “Pretentious?” 

“What kind of name is Donnie ?”

“First of all, you’re grasping at straws, it’s a nickname .” She debated on telling him his name was actually Donatello, but considering he was petty enough to throw in Donatello’s name into an argument, she decided it would only throw oil on the fire. “Secondly, I don’t like you–-didn’t like you in high school. You can’t just make me feel anything for you when I don’t. For some reason, you didn’t and don't understand that.” 

“So you go and get a boyfriend on me?”

“This isn’t about you!” 

Technically, very technically, in general, her pretend relationship with Donatello was about Dale, but April couldn’t get into that at the moment, because it was about the principle. April didn’t owe Dale a thing, much less a chance if her heart wasn’t in it. 

Dale took a deep breath, breathing out through his nose like she was the one being irresponsible, “I’m not trying to argue with you, April. I’m just saying that if I were in a relationship with you, I’d be screaming about it at the top of my lungs, but you’ve been in a relationship with this guy for this long, and I’m only just finding out about it. You deserve someone who’ll treat you right.”

Donatello could. Especially if April let him, but she wasn’t into that kind of showy affection, and neither was Donatello, which was another reason she just wasn’t interested in Dale.

“Donnie treats me just fine, I’ll have you know. Even though it’s none of your business.” 

“I don’t see it.” 

“Yawn, it’s because I don’t need to show you of all people.” 

And there, standing in all his glory, was Donatello, causing both of them to jump, not even realizing their conversation was invaded. He walked next to April, hand already reaching out to hers, not having to think twice about taking it in his hand. 

“April knows I treat her well, and that’s all that matters.” 

“What are you doing here?”

He gently pulled her closer to him, “I got word that my girlfriend was wasting her precious time in the hallway arguing with some scrub about stuff that needs no explanation.” 

April rolled her eyes, a genuine smile finally gracing her face for the first time since she stepped into her class. “No one told you that.”

“They didn’t, but I could collect enough context to get that conclusion.” With smugness pouring out of him like fine wine, Donatello slid closer to April, arm pressed flush against hers, and asked very dramatically (if April said so herself), “Now, if you don’t mind, I think me and my girlfriend will be taking our leave. Unless there are some other complaints you have?” 

Dale frowned deeply before saying, “No, I don’t think there is,” and walking off. 

Donatello waited until Dale disappeared into another hallway, “So, do you think that’s enough of a bruised ego that he’ll finally move on?”

April groaned, slumping against Donatello with her whole weight, not causing him to falter even a little, “I don’t know, but even while we were talking–”

“Arguing.” 

“Semantics, but while we were talking, it was more of him spilling his usual ‘woe is me’ spill instead of going ‘oh wow, April, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I’m like super sorry I’ve been pressuring you so much,’ like I wanted him to.”  

“Unfortunately, for someone who isn’t taking no as an acceptable answer, this actually tracks pretty well.” He twirled her, making sure his arm ended up around her shoulder, their hands still connected. 

Leading her toward the path of the exit, he looked back just to see of Dale had turned tail to come back, but saw no one. He still didn't let his arm drop from her shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere to relax before you have to suffer through your next class.” 

She groaned again, “I don’t wanna go,” 

“As your academia boyfriend, I’m elected to make you.”

She chuckled, and Donatello smiled. Mission accomplished. 

.oOo.

“Honestly, April, I just think he gets a bad rep,” Sunita said around her sip of raspberry smoothie. The two of them were walking back to their dorm after stopping by the Yogurt and Smoothie hut to congratulate April on her “win against Mr. Persistent” as Sunita put it. “Professor Rupert just really likes to get his recipes made a certain way. I think that’s pretty admirable.”  

“Sunita, I think you’re the only one sweet enough to think of it like that.” Well, her and an orange ball of sunshine that April knew sitting back home all alone with his father named Michelangelo. She wondered if Leonardo would try to convince his (second) favorite partner in crime to come here after he graduated next year. The possibility of being taught by an ex-celebrity might convince him. 

“You’ve just never met him before, April.” 

“And I never will, because I’m also not his number one pupil.” 

Sunita rolled her eyes playfully and didn’t push the issue much, “I’m just saying, you could probably endear him to you, you have that charm.”

April just took a sip of her warm apple cider, taking in the cooling mid-November air, knowing sooner or later the cooling air would turn cold as ice and make the walks she and Sunita liked to take a living hell. She took in the colors of the leaves scattered on the floor and adjusted the scarf wrapped around her neck before taking another long sip. 

Even though the end of this semester was gearing up to be a clusterfuck of misfortunate events, April decided to try to remain hopeful that she could end it as close to unscathed as possible. Besides, she had Donatello and Sunita on her side now, whatever her teachers, or Dale, or anyone else had to throw at her, she was sure she’d be able to take it. 

Sunita patted her on her shoulder, “Hey, April?” she pointed towards the other side of the crowd, arm extended because Sunita just didn’t do subtle, “Isn’t that Donatello over there?” 

Oh, speak of the devil. April looked over to where she was pointing, a smile already on her face, planning to call out to him. When her eyes finally landed on him, however, he already looked occupied, walking and chatting with a purple-haired lady, forefinger pointing up in the sky, so April knew he’d been going on about something he was passionate about. Even though she didn’t look particularly interested, April watched as she responded to Donatello in kind, putting a hand on Donatello’s shoulder, and from the angle April was, looked like she was pressed against his side. And for the first time since she’s met Donatello, she somehow felt like the odd man out. Not that she was being excluded, but she wasn’t even part of the equation, which felt like such an out-of-body experience for her.

April hummed, “Yeah, it is.” she wasn’t sure why Sunita was looking at her with her lips pinched together, but she suspected it had something to do with how breathless she sounded answering her. Although, April couldn’t think of a single reason why she felt so out of sorts about anything.

She watched them interact, taking in just how comfortable Donatello was talking to the young woman, not looking bothered by the fact she wasn’t even looking at him, already typing something on her phone after answering him once. April shook her head, looking at Sunita would was also staring openly at the duo as they walked past. “I’m gonna go say hi,” she said. 

“Sure, say hi for me too,” she nodded, patting April on the shoulder, a silent way for her to express comfort, but April didn’t really need it, after all. So what if Donatello was walking around with some pretty lady who could talk back to him in whatever scientific language he could come up with, it’s not that April was in competition with anyone else. 

Competition for what exactly? She told herself that she and his relationship didn’t have any necessity for such a thing because it didn’t matter at the end of the day.

She’d only just walked away from Sunita before she heard–

“April! Just the O’Neil I needed to see!” And suddenly, the hands of Hamato Leonardo grabbed her shoulders, turning her around and leading her away from where she wanted. “I really need your expertise with this Lit project I have to get done. Thank goodness I caught you when I did.” 

“Leo!” She tried looking over his shoulder to see where the pair happened to go but lost them in the crowd. She sighed, “Fine, but you owe me.” 

He laughed, and April couldn’t stay mad at him for thwarting her plans to snoop, “That’s the spirit!”

Chapter Text

.oOo.

Three days passed since April saw Donatello walking with that purple-haired woman and two days since she'd actually had a full conversation with him. She'd seen him, of course. He made a habit of picking her up from any classes she shared with Dale, making sure to keep face so Dale couldn't find another instant to try to guilt her into giving him a chance, but the little time together they did spend didn't amount to anything to her. 

Especially because after swiftly dropping her off to her next classes, he made a mad dash to everywhere else on campus. If they were sitting down somewhere to talk, his phone would go off, pulling his attention from her before looking at her with an apologetic face, telling her he had to go.

Once she'd asked if she could tag along with him, but he turned her down. 

"It's just some stuff for my Artificial Intelligence Programming course, I'm sure you'll find it super boring, and I would hate to have to endure both yours and Kendra's deadpan stares while I explain the significance of making every single thing as accurate as possible. It requires absolute perfection and no tinkering from anyone other than my genius mind. I can’t afford any distractions, April!" And it didn't take someone of a Donatello level intelligence for her to read between the lines. He just didn’t want her there.

But apparently, he wanted that time with someone named Kendra.

“Hello? Earth to April?” 

Head snapping up, April nervously chuckled at Leonardo’s disappointed face. He’d pushed his long, bleach-blonde dyed locs out of his face, leaving the two red ones to frame his face, trying to put on a professional air despite still being in a too-large jersey-styled crop and sweatpants. 

They were currently in his and Donatello’s dorm room, April filling out a survey for him to interview her on later. When he’d pulled her to the side the other day, he asked if she would lend him some recording equipment for his Literature final, which then turned into him asking her to be an interviewee for his communications final. 

Knowing he'd essentially predisposed her, he'd elected to let her go over the questions and answer them before interviewing so she wouldn't be going in blind, which was nice. 

“Sorry, were you saying something, Leo?” 

He rolled his eyes, “Wow, first Donnie gets busy with all his classes and practically ignores me, and now the person who’s here to help me is also ignoring me. What is it? Ignore Leo month?”

She smiled, “Well, Mercury is in the microwave, so you know how it goes.” 

He chuckled, leaning back in his bed with his hands behind his head. “You know what? Fair, the moon can really change a man.” 

That was the wrong solar body, but she can overlook it. She gasped, “Oh my gosh, you’re a were-man.”

“At least commit to making me a supernatural figure, I don’t wanna be some kind of Extra-Man.”

“What’s that, a man but extra?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Aren’t you already?” 

“Touche.”

April smiled before continuing to finish her last question. Leonardo’s eyes were closed; he was still awake, yet April made no move to disturb him. She put her ‘interview survey’ on the shared tiny dresser, leaning back in the chair and looking around the room.

While she and Sunita took the minimum approach to decoration, the boys added a little more flair to theirs. They had a few posters here and there, some floating sleeves to hold some of their favorite memorabilia, and sitting above Donatello’s desk was a cabinet with a “Leo don’t touch” sign on the door that they’d snuck in. April briefly wondered how they managed to sneak the sleeves and the cabinet past their RA, but with Hamato “Faceman” Leonardo and Hamato “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answers for” Donatello working together, maybe she didn’t need one. 

She’d visited a couple of times when they first settled in, and Donatello would always have some works in progress laying around, having brought some from home and only adding more as the year continued, but his side of the room was barer than its ever been. 

She huffed out a laugh, “Hey, is Donnie dropping out or something?” She’d said it as a joke, but honestly, she hadn’t seen him around as much as she wanted to and was admittedly starting to grasp at straws. 

“Huh?” Leonardo shot up from his position, face a mix of shock, disbelief, and a little worry, “Why, did he say something to you?”

Seeing Leonardo’s reaction, April realized how troubling it would be to hear the brainy, school-focused young man would even consider dropping out of university before his first year was even over. April quickly shook her head, space puns shaking so fast she imagined she heard the sound of pom-poms.

“No! He didn’t! I was just joking!” She forced out a couple of laughs, breathing a sigh when he started to ease against the bed. “I was just wondering where all his stuff was.” 

“Oh,” he sighed, “I guess he and his pack of robo-nerds came and got it while I was in class earlier. Some girl in one of his classes has really been buttering his biscuits, and he was super excited to show her some of them. I think her name’s Kendra, he’s mentioned her every so often.” 

Some girl, huh? “Purple-hair? Kinda short and mean-looking?” 

Leonardo snapped at her, “That’s the one, she keeps walking Donnie to the cafe for some reason. Why, you know her?” 

“Uh, no. I don't. And he’s never mentioned her to me either." This was the first time April was even putting a face to her name.

Leonardo raised an eyebrow at her, looking her over for a second before slowly sitting up, eyes staying glued to her. Not that April noticed, too busy picking at the chipping nail polish on her fingers with a moue on her face. Despite his better judgment, a sly smile slowly danced on his face, and he coughed into his hand, both bringing April’s attention to himself and hiding the devious look.

“Well, you know that our sweet Donothon isn’t too good at talking about feelings, so if he just so happened to be sweet on some girl, we probably won’t hear about it until their years in,” he placed a hand on his heart exaggeratedly.

April stopped picking at her nails, pausing altogether as Leonardo’s words sank into her head and heart. There was no way Donatello would have a crush on someone, and leave her in the dark about it.  He wouldn't up and leave her to deal with the aftermath of their actions without an actual word about it. Why’d she have to hear about it secondhand from his brother instead of him anyways, weren’t they–

No. They weren’t. April quickly reminded herself before the thought could even finish itself. They weren’t together in the grand scheme of things, not really. So April didn’t need any explanation about who Donatello spent his time with, or if he suddenly developed a crush on someone he didn’t even tell her about despite them being best friends long before starting this charade. 

Maybe, he really wanted to back out of their arrangement and didn’t know how to tell her. Maybe when he had proposed the whole thing, he was hoping she’d laugh the idea away, and she was the one who threw a curveball. He probably already had a crush on the girl, and April and her somewhat avoidable issue had him backed into a corner.

Or worse, he and this Kendra character were already dating and he didn’t know how to tell her about it, so he was essentially, to the public eye–-not to April, of course, because she shouldn't care one way or the other–-two-timing and was too ashamed to face her about it. 

“Wow,” Leo cooed, pleased as punch as he watched April’s face morph through multiple emotions without saying a word, “I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but you are angry-.” 

She scoffed, pulling out her phone to distract herself from her now too-nosey friend, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Leo.” 

“Sure you don’t, Apes, and that’s what I love about you.” 

At that moment, Donnie--surprisingly glasses-less and without his bandana, locs falling in his face--walked in with the energy of a cat completely drenched in water, carrying a bag of goodies, and April pinched her lips together to keep from saying anything catty, but slowly relaxed when he dropped it on Leo's lap. 

She really needed to calm down. 

"The basketball coach told me to give this to you," he said dryly. Leo cooed, immediately opening the bag to open a wrapped brownie and immediately digging into it. "He said congrats on the midterm, sorry it's so late, but he hopes you enjoy his wife's treats." 

"Oh man, if you see him before I do, tell them they're to die for." 

He nodded at April before making his way to his desk, putting his bag on the side of his chair, "Also, can you stop forming pseudo-parental relationships with every teacher with a beard, you're going to make people think dad doesn't love us."

"Says the guy who overworks himself in classes whenever his teacher is visibly a parent-aged adult just so they'll tell him he did a good job." 

April clapped her hands, "Children, children, you're both very pretty, let's move this along."

Leonardo groaned while Donatello rolled his eyes, but regardless they both dropped it. For now, at least, April knew that the two of them could bring it back up with the shift of the wind if they wanted to. 

“Whatever,” Leonardo called, jumping from the bed and heading to the door to grab his shoes. “I’m gonna grab some milk for my awesome brownies that I’m not sharing with a certain brother of mine, you can have some though, April.” 

She passed on the offer, seeing as she wasn’t sure if the offer was genuine or a ploy to get Donatello to argue about it. He left soon after with a cry “She’s your company now, little brother!” making Donatello glare at him as the door slammed closed. 

She moved from the chair to sit at the head of his bed and asked Donatello about his day, which he was all too eager to tell her about because it’d been so long since he got the chance. 

He told her about the pop quiz he had in his chemistry class, he went into great detail about how he managed to solve the “equation of the day” in his advanced algebra class. He lamented about the quick lunch he had with his brother, Raphael, who rode up to see him because he knew how Donatello could get around finals and wanted to check on him, leaving his job at the car part factory not too far from their university. She smiled, nodding along and listening closely to every detail, although Donatello had yet to really look at her, busy opening textbooks that were laying on his desk since sitting down.

“-And then once robotics club ended, I went to get a muffin from the bakery with a classmate because I’ve been wanting one since Leo ate mine this morning.” 

A classmate. She nodded, “Uh huh. That’s real nice, Donnie.”

He chuckled, “Not nice that I had to buy another muffin considering I’m sure Leo doesn’t even like that kind.”

“Anything else interesting happened? Nothing worth mentioning?” She prompted. 

He shook his head, “Nope, not really. How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, it’s been going. Who’s Kendra?” 

He stopped for a moment then groaned, opening the small desk attached to his desk to grab his reading glasses from their case, “I don’t know what Leo told you, but she’s no one. We just know each other from class and we share a club, you have nothing to worry about.”

Well. Yeah, she knew that, but still.

“You didn’t even mention her,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, because she wasn’t relevant to the story at all,” he reasoned, shaking his head. 

April didn’t think so, she had to be ‘relevant’ enough to walk him to the cafe or bakery whenever he went. 

“She was there though, right? At the bakery with you?”

He shrugged, “She just tags along to talk about our project.” 

She frowned, wanting to pry and actually get to the bottom of all that because really, no one was that interested in perfecting something for a class. She couldn’t even 100% convince herself that Donatello would either unless it was to impress someone.  

However, she stopped short when she’d seen just how Donatello deflated against his desk, not able to get comfortable.

“Donnie, have you been sleeping at all?” She’d noticed a lot more styrofoam cups littering his side of the room earlier, but she disregarded it, thinking that he was just a little behind on his chores. Then again, considering it’s Donatello, she should have known better. 

He hummed, sluggishly nodding as he dragged his computer closer to himself as if he couldn’t see it even though he’d just put his glasses on. “Yeah, sure.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second. How long have you slept?” 

“Enough.”

“Donnie.” 

Donatello hung his head with a groan, slowly closing his laptop because there was no arguing with April when she pulled that tone. It was the equivalent of being called by one’s whole name by a parent, and Donatello didn’t want to risk pulling one of those from her. He looked at her from his seat, eyes hazy and unfocused. “Can I borrow your lap?” 

April blinked in surprise, trying not to get too flustered, knowing the bridge Donatello’s thoughts had to cross to get to his mouth no longer had to toll through any cognition due to his sleep deprivation. She looked at the pillows currently on his bed, “Aren’t these pillows to your taste?”

He shrugged, not even bothering to answer yet he remained sitting, and April thought that was cute. Even while half functioning, he wanted her go-ahead before doing anything. 

“Sure, Dee, get over here.”

April tucked her legs under herself, patting her thighs to give Donatello the okay. 

He starfished on the bed, laying on his back with his head on her lap and almost immediately falling into a state of unconsciousness. April took off his glasses, scooting over a bit to put his glasses down, and he hummed at the disturbance. 

“I’m just taking them off, calm down,” she said, amused. 

“Don’t leave, okay?” he slurred, scooting closer to her until the top of his head met her belly, getting more comfortable against her. He reached one arm behind her, not fully encapturing her in his arm, but just enough that April got that impression. 

“I mean, you’re kinda already making that pretty hard for me.” 

“I meant after. I’m not gonna sleep so easily.” His voice was already trailing off, so April wasn’t sure just how sound his logic was. She was half tempted to let him talk himself to sleep. “Tell me about your day.”

“I’m not gonna talk at you while you’re trying to sleep, Donnie. I’m not even sure if I should be staying this long anyways.” She still had class after all; but after putting his glasses on the small dresser between the beds, she scooted closer to the middle of the bed, maneuvering Donatello with her. She began running her hands through his locs, carefully ensuring her nails didn’t catch on any strand of new growth to keep it from tugging. “You need your rest, Dee.”

“I know,” he sighed, one of his hands coming up to hold one of hers, pressing it against his cheek, “I just miss you.” 

She smiled softly at the soft, vulnerable declaration, “I miss you too, Dee.” 

The urge to lean down and kiss his cheek presented itself to her like a demon on her shoulder, though not accompanied by any angel as a saving grace, especially when his breathing eased signaling he was sleeping. She looked at him upside down, gently cupping his chin after his hand went limp and fell away from hers, her thumb drew circles against his jaw, absent-mindedly tracing his face slowly with her eyes before taking a deep breath. 

April kissed her middle and pointer finger, pressing it lightly to the edge of his lips. 

She’d then quickly picked up her phone, hoping whatever came up on her newsfeed would be able to distract her from the beating of her heart. She pressed her hand against her face, feeling it quickly warm up and she let out a groan before setting a timer on her phone for thirty minutes so she wasn’t late for class. 

She still ended up late for class anyway. 

She was so late for class, in fact, that Ms. Bianca stopped her at the door and ‘joked’ that she could have taken the day off. 

She agreed, so she left without a word to any of her classmates. 

.oOo.

When Donatello woke up he was alone. 

He was also groggy, tense, and overall not having the greatest time peeling himself away from the comfort of his bed, not altogether knowing how he’d managed to take a nap. Actually, he didn’t really remember getting into bed, just had the faint feeling of being surrounded by a sense of ease, softness, and hints of shea butter and raspberries and cinnamon. He could make the educated guess that April had to be here. 

For a moment, he wished his pillows or bed held the scent so he could submerge himself back into the senseless bliss of sleep, but he had to get up so he could get a headstart on a ten-page essay for his English class before he had to head out to meet his AI group to talk over the blueprints for their AI makeup that they refused to settle on a name for. Not to mention, he had to stop by his robotic club for more parts. And he also had to eat, but he could probably put that on the back burner until he at least got started on everything else. 

He patted his pockets for his phone, pulling out his phone to see multiple texts from the group chat, groaning when he realized how close it was to the time they were supposed to meet. Unfortunately, it looked like the time he was going to use to research was eaten away by his impromptu nap. He cursed, looking around the room for his glasses, finding them somewhere he'd never put them before alongside a brownie with a note that read, "I was kidding before, I hope you like it!" in Leonardo's handwriting. 

Donatello squinted at the note, confused, "Okay?" 

Not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth, he took it with him. 

Quickly making his way to the computer lab—which was on the fifth floor of a building a ten-minute walk from his dorm—Donatello found the former three-man team already waiting for him. They were sitting in the back of the room, farthest away from the teacher-assigned supervisor, and the stray students also trying to study for their finals. 

Only two of them were seated at a computer, Jason, and Jeremy, and the third stood over their shoulders, not sparing any feelings with the criticism she let out, the supposed leader of the self-named "Purple Dragons", Kendra. Her eyes only cut to Donatello once he took the seat in between Jeremy and Jason–-no doubt formally hers–-setting his stuff down on the table, getting his class-assigned notebook out, and starting up the computer with a yawn. 

"Well, if it isn't the man of the hour," she said, taking in his tired posture but saying nothing about it. "Nice of you to finally join us, Donnie." 

"Yes, well, it looks like you all have been progressing just fine without me," he glanced over at her before looking back at his computer with a smirk, "or at least, some of you have. I see you didn't bother to try to start without me." 

"More room for your genius to shine, or whatever." 

She didn't say it very kindly. Kendra didn't really say anything kindly, but the ambiguity of whether it could be counted as insulting or not didn't matter to Donatello. He knew she was impressed by him; she wouldn't have offered for him to work with the three of them on this project if she didn't on some level acknowledge his genius for what it was. Unfortunately, him being the person he was, he was willing to put in the extra work to make her say it out loud. 

He'd been working for about half an hour when Kendra grabbed the brownie he'd put on the table, not even asking for permission before opening it and taking a bite. "Okay, so I guess I wasn't going to eat that. Thanks." 

Shrugging off his sarcasm, Kendra said, "You aren't really supposed to eat while on the computers anyways." 

"Actually, you aren't supposed to eat in the computer lab at all." 

“Shut up, Jason.” She wasted no time glaring at the offending voice, taking another bite and Donatello couldn’t stop the thought that April would have taken a piece of the unbitten side and tried to feed it to him. He would have insisted she put it in his hand, and she would, but only after pretending he’d wounded her pride by not letting her feed him. 

Just then, Donatello felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out to see April had texted him a couple of times, telling him about how she ditched class and was on her way to his dorm to check on him. He assumed she thought he was still sleeping and was just texting him as a heads-up so she wouldn't be accused of 'dropping by unannounced.’ Though, it was never a problem to him when it was her doing it. 

He pretended to scold her for ditching her class, receiving a wall of eye-rolling emojis and a quick, ‘Just say you don’t wanna see me’ at the bottom. He responded with his own wall of text, a long pose expressing how lovely it was seeing her whenever she decided to bless his dorm’s threshold with her goddess-like presence. 

 “And what’re you smiling at all of a sudden, Donnie?” Jeremy asked, and Donatello just noticed there was a small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah, I’d be upset if my brownie got stolen,” Jason added, flinching at the intensity of Kendra’s glare stuck to his back, “Okay, shutting up now.” 

"Just where do you think you're going?"

“Huh?” Donatello stopped putting his stuff away to look at Kendra, who was looking at him with her hands on her hips. “I’m going to be taking my leave a little earlier today.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I see that, but we’ve barely started anything.”

“No, you’ve barely started anything. I, on the other hand, despite only working this short amount of time, have done plenty for today.” He didn’t really think that; there was so much more stuff to work on, actually getting the name of the AI sorted out with the group, encrypting his name in the code so no one can say he had no part in it, something he’s always feared would happen in a group project. But April was on her way to his dorm, and that was enough reason to warrant a break for him.

“If you’re going to the bakery, those plain bagels you always get aren’t gonna be freshly baked if that’s what you’re in a rush for.” 

He stood up, shrugging his bag on his shoulders, “I know, I wasn’t going there.” 

Kendra crossed her arms, “Okay? Then what else do you have to do besides work on this project?”

A hell of a lot actually, but before he got to answer, Jeremy beat him to the punch. “With the way he’s trying to rush out of here, he might just have a girlfriend.” He said jokingly, waving his pinkie. He and Jason started to snicker, and even Kendra had an amused look on her face. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

The nonchalant tone in his voice made the three look at him in disbelief, but Donatello’s face held no signs of jest, or incentive, almost as if he were telling the truth. He shrugged at their shocked face before bidding them farewell and heading outside the computer lab. 

When he got to the dorm, April was already inside with Leonardo, both looking too excited for young adults buried in their studies. Or maybe that was just him. They continued to look at him with smiles on their faces, and Donatello sighed, placing his bag on his table. “Okay, I’ll bite, what are you two conspiring about now?”

April giggled, “Conspiring? What, do you think we’re out to get you or something?”

“The short answer, yes. The long answer–”

“No time for that,” Leonardo interjected, walking over to him and throwing his arm over his shoulder, “I know you don’t look at your phone when you and the nerd squad are working, but take a look at this!” 

Leonardo all but shoved his phone into Donatello’s face, barely holding still enough so that he could read, but what he made out of what he could read was the icon of their brother, Michelangelo, who was just a year younger than them, and a text that said ‘I’ll be there!’ and from what he could infer was that meant his little brother was going to be coming to their campus one of these days.

Leonardo’s smile widened when he took in Donatello’s face, “Look at that, I lose one brother to studying and gain another, doesn’t the universe just love me.” 

Donatello rolled his eyes at his brother’s dramatics, but couldn’t keep the excitement off his face at the idea of seeing his secretly-not-so-secret favorite brother, “Please don’t tell me we’re leaving Langelo with you, Leo.” 

“Excuse you, I’m a great guide.” 

“Didn’t you take coins out of the fountain when we toured here?”

“And they got them back, what’s your point, Don-tron?” 

“That I’m worried that if I leave our young, very impressional little brother in your quite reckless hands, that he–-as well as you yourself-–will be prohibited from ever stepping foot on the premises again.” 

“That’s a really long way of saying to don’t trust me,” Leonardo rolled his eyes before shaking Donatello, “Give me some credit, Donald, I’ve matured! I’m a college-changed man!” 

“I’ve yet to see it, dear brother,” 

He roughly patted his shoulder, “Well, it’s hard to see anything half-awake, brother.” 

“Half-awake? ” 

Donatello cringed hearing April’s confused voice asking from her seat on his bed. He glared at his brother, knowing he knew exactly what he was doing by pulling that card while April was there. 

“I didn’t take you for the tattle-tale type, Leo.” He hissed.

Leonardo looked at him with a shit-eating grin, “Well, you should have.” 

“So I was right to think you were tired earlier.” April stood up, hands on her hips and stance wide as if she was for a fight.

He shook Leonardo off of him, but he stayed close, hoping to see April chew him a new one, “Okay, so maybe I’ve skipped out on sleeping a little bit, but it’s really no big deal.”

“How is you not sleeping not a big deal?”

“He hasn’t been eating properly either, April.”

“Oh, really now?”

“I am getting my work done,” He said with a glare at his loudmouth brother. 

“And you think that’s more important? 'Cause, it isn’t.”

“You tell him, April.” 

Donatello looked back at Leonardo, pushing against his face when he leaned into his space. “April–”

“Do I have to start monitoring you? Just to make sure you’re taking proper breaks?”

“That’s not necessary–”

“Ohmigee, April, you really should,” despite Donatello’s hand on his face, he managed to lean closer to him again and whispered, “Don’t worry, Dee, you’ll be thanking me later.” 

He muffed him away again. “Can you behave? ” 

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Leo, I think I will.”

“Do I get a say in this at all?” Donatello bemoaned and was answered with a firm no from both of them. 

“Don’t worry, Donnie,” Leonardo laughed, “you’ll still be able to get your work done. You’ll just have a five-foot assistant ready to beat you into unconsciousness if you need a break.”

“I’m glad you said something, 'cause I’m actually five-foot-three.”  

“See, even better.” 

Donatello was going to strangle him. 

.oOo.

If April O’Neil was anything, it was a woman of her word, so for the next two days, whenever she or Donatello wasn’t in class, she was attached to his hip with timers, water, and a small snack. The second night, she’d even taken him out to dinner and held his wallet hostage when he tried to pay. He tried to reason her out of it, had told her how his allowance could cover him and her better than her weekly paycheck could, and explained to her that she definitely had better things to do than waste money on him. 

“Donnie,” she had said, “you’ve done a lot for me the past couple of days. Let me take care of you for once.” 

After that, Donatello ended up being a lot easier to keep an eye on. At the very least, he stopped trying to ditch her in the library after his classes when she told him she was making it mandatory that he went to his dorm and napped. 

On the third day, he was meeting his group in the computer lab to work together, and April felt like she was going to get the rug pulled from under her if Donatello said she wouldn’t be able to go. She tried not to let it get to her too much, but Leonardo’s words and the image he painted, the thought Donatello had a crush on someone made April’s nervous system go haywire. She wondered if it was because of their agreement, but April didn’t want to believe she was petty like that. 

She was petty about a lot, but never when it came to her relationship with Donatello. 

They were sitting in his dorm again, with Donatello laying on his bed floating between consciousness yet again, holding on to April’s wrist as she sat next to him. Leonardo was gone with some boy with freckles and a bunny-like face to some sort of kendo match. She tried really hard to push down the boiling irritation when she thought about how Donatello wasn’t as touchy when Leonardo was in the room, because save for a few instances with Dale, he wasn’t much of a PDA person. She couldn’t fault him on things that weren’t even his fault, but some irrational part of her mind wanted to be upset with him and she wasn’t sure why.

And no, no matter how many times her brain sampled that she didn’t feel this unnecessarily upset until Kendra appeared, she would not entertain the idea she was jealous. April didn’t do jealous, especially not for her kind-hearted, overdramatic goof of a best friend.

Said goof started to stir in his sleep, eyes opening moments before his alarm went off. He grudgingly sat up, a scowl deep on his face as he stared at her with tired eyes before leaning his head against her shoulder, groaning as he asked her to turn his alarm off. It was just after seven o’clock, and he was supposed to meet his group in thirty minutes in the library. 

April chuckled, doing just that before patting his arm in comfort when he grumbled, “I know, I know; if you’re good to go, I’ll let you get a coffee on the way there.” Not that she thought she’d be going with him. 

Donatello huffed a laugh, “As if I need permission to do something I was already going to do.” 

She made him take a couple of sips of water before standing by the bed and letting him get up. She watched as he slowly got his stuff together, ate one of Leonardo’s granola bars, and threw on a thicker jacket and his bag before heading to the door. She quickly followed, and they headed to the lobby while making jokes about how winter was definitely coming earlier than before, and they’d be buried in snow and cold before the first week of December even arrived. 

Once they were outside, April waved, saying her goodbyes and telling him to make sure he eat before it got too late, and he looked a bit confused. 

“What?” She asked, confused by his confusion.

“You aren’t coming?” He sounded a little disheartened about it.

“But last time, you said no?” 

“Last time?” He looked off to the side, rubbing his arm, “I guess I just didn’t want you to be bored. I was kind of hoping you wanted to tag along this time.” 

April tried to force down the butterflies trying to escape her throat. It wasn’t that serious, April, get a grip. 

She smiled, biting the inside of her bottom lip so she didn’t smile too widely, “If you’re sure, then I wouldn’t mind tagging along.” 

They had to walk to one of the cafes on campus because it was too late to stop to get the free, communal coffee from student services that was always either too strong or too watery. April almost jabbed Donatello in the rib when he managed to snatch her wallet from her hands before she could get the money to pay for it, making him laugh. April had no choice but to brighten at it. All she’d seen from him the last few days were him in half-asleep dazes and drained smiles he’d have around her whenever Dale was in sight, so seeing the genuine joy on his face was refreshing. 

They’d just made it to the library, and April almost jumped out of her skin when Donatello grabbed her hand before leading her into the hall of books. He pulled her towards the back of the library where there were rooms designated for group work so they didn’t disturb people who were in the library for silence. He opened the door for her, letting her walk in first with an encouraging smile. She entered, taking in the two square tables, the scattered six seats, and the messily erased chalkboard, then realized she was being stared at by three figures who seemed alarmed just by her showing up but then relaxed when they saw she was attached to the taller tech-wiz. 

"Oh," the woman who she now recognized as Kendra spoke. Her voice has an air of superiority to it, almost like she was trying to play a villain in a musical, and April wanted to side-eye Donatello because she was amazed that he'd been able to find someone with his brand of extraness on such a large campus. "Is this the girlfriend?"

Before April had the chance to speak, Donatello spoke, "Yes, she is.” He quickly looked down at her, using his body to block her view of the other three, "By the way, I might have told these guys that we're dating and forgot to tell you." 

April just slowly nodded, tampering with the urge to hit him as Donatello walked towards the group, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him. She supposed that was okay. Not telling her was the greatest offense here, which was pretty forgivable since he warned her before she said anything incriminating. If she was able to use Donatello as a fill-in boyfriend for her convenience and benefit, she guessed it was only fair that he would be able to do the same with her. She just didn't know the benefits of her being his girlfriend at that moment. 

She was introduced to the group, and the two boys were nice enough, shaking her hand, telling her she was pretty and had to be out of her mind to want to date Donatello--not that they really knew him, but she held her tongue. They probably didn't know her to be Donatello's childhood friend, anyways; she doubted he talked about her much in his class anyways. He didn't spare much interest in sharing personal information willy-nilly. They didn’t need to know who she was. 

Her eyes followed Donatello as he moved around the boys and talked to Kendra, noticing how well they played off each other and felt… replaced, almost. She stood close to him, but never as close as April would be to him, but the two of them seem to exist in a bubble away from the three others in the room. Jeremy and Jason seemed not to mind it, not feeling as left out as April was, somewhat used to being easily tossed aside. 

Kendra didn't spare much but a "How're you doing," to April, not really caring to get a response before promptly telling everyone to get to work. She tried to usher April to a table away from the computers, silently telling her to stay out of the way. 

April didn't take that as a good sign at all. 

While the other two quickly did as they were told, Donatello busied himself looking around the room, pulling one of the two the rolly chair from the corner of the room and setting it at the edge of the table next to a computer. 

"Here, April, you sit here." He turned to the computer, signed in, and opened his files, trusting April would take her spot next to him. 

From the corner of her eye, April saw Kendra scoffing, and April was starting to piece together just why Donatello had brought her here. 

"Listen, Mr. Girlfriend, I hope you aren't planning on letting yourself be distracted just because she's here."

"Uh scoff, I'm a man of business, Kendra. I would never." 

April played along, smirking and carefully taking her seat so she didn't accidentally bump the table. "Yeah, he would never."

April watched the other woman walk across the room to the other square table to grab some flashcards from the big guy, probably working on the script for their presentation. Seeing how awkward she had walked away, April could figure out that she'd probably be standing over the group as they worked; she seemed like the authoritarian type. Maybe April being there got in the way of that. 

April rocked in the chair for a moment, feeling a little out of place, pulling out her phone and putting one of her feet on the leg of Donatello's seat to recline. She opened up her text app, pulled up Donatello's text history, and just stared at it. She really wanted to ask him if she was only there to make Kendra jealous, but the possibility of the answer being yes made the taste in her mouth sour immediately, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. 

Instead, she busied herself texting Michelangelo and asking whether or not he would be visiting them to tour the school or to just hang out with his brothers. She knew Leonardo had only mentioned it a little bit, not giving many details, but she was actually excited to see the chipper, young mischief-maker again, and didn't want to leave him with Leonardo for too long without seeing him. Sure, it was possible she’d see him during the holiday break, but she wasn’t sure if she’d have to lay low hanging out with them all things considered. 

She kept sneaking peeks at Donatello, quickly looking back down at her phone in hopes he wouldn't notice. 

She was sure after the semester, he’d come up with a nice, clean way to “break up” with her so he could move on to better things. 

An hour passed with them like that, silent. Sometimes the group would call to each other from across the room but didn't really talk to one another, and April had to applaud how hardworking they were. Every so often, Donatello would lean over to whisper something to her, prompting her to try to laugh as quietly as she could against her hand, and it wasn’t long until they’d made a game of it.

However, Kendra began walking behind each of the members to look over their work, and she pause at Donatello, leaning forward to give him feedback and going back and forth with one another in a way that was almost flirtatious. When she did, April never failed to lean forward as well, almost pressing her arm against Donatello's and looking at the screen even though she didn't have much interest in coding itself. 

When Kendra walked away, looking quizzically at April, Donatello looked at her with an eyebrow raised and ask if she wanted him to explain something to her. She had, embarrassingly, declined.

Nothing in his tone implied that he had a problem with her doing so, neither did it imply he thought she was dumb for being confused, but she couldn't help feeling like she was crossing some kind of line by doing so. If she was really here for the reason she thought she was, then she was only getting in the way. Besides, she could tell Kendra knew what she was doing, but anytime she walked away, April looked immediately at Donatello, biting her lip as that bad feeling buried itself deep in her bones. 

She honestly felt like she needed an exorcism. There was no way her mind was telling herself one thing yet her body did the exact opposite unless there was some kind of spiritual possession happening. 

She leaned against the chair when Kendra yelled they were at the hour and thirty-minute mark, and she frowned at the ceiling when she realized she had spent over an hour sitting in an annoying amount of apprehension. 

Before long, one of his fingers tapped against her leg and she looked over to see Donatello staring at her with thinly veiled concern and she wanted to kick herself. She felt the need to excuse herself.

"Is something wrong?" 

"What? With who? Me? No, of course not." She raspberried her tongue, chuckling nervously when she realized she was not believable in the slightest. 

Donatello looked at her unimpressed, "Yeah, uh huh, sure, O'Neil." 

As if sensing Donatello had taken his eyes off his work, Kendra walked over to them, hands on her hip like a teen-movie drill sergeant. 

"What's the hold-up, Othello." 

April raised an eyebrow, looking at Kendra with a frown on her face, "What? Othello? As a nickname?" 

"Yep," Donatello said, hands going back to glide across the keyboard with ease, "Rhymes with Donatello, and has one less syllable."

Kendra just about sat on the table right next to Donatello, placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it, making Donatello tense. The scowl on April's face deepen, and Kendra found delight in the action. 

"What can I say," she started, "he's the star of this little show of ours. I'd be lost without the mad genius right here."

April always liked the way Donatello’s face brightened with delight at being praised, but at that moment, she felt like a brick landed heavily in her gut. His eyes were busy looking at the screen, but April knew if he weren't, he would have looked at Kendra with that starry look in his eye that practically begged to be praised. 

Donatello laughed, removing Kendra’s hand from his shoulder and patting it, “Flattery won’t make me do this whole thing by myself, Kendra.” 

“I can’t compliment you? One tactical genius to another?” 

“Uh, Kendra?” Jason asked while side-eyeing Jeremy who looked equally as confused, confirming to April that she wasn’t grasping at straws and Kendra was, actually, flirting with her boyfriend right in front of her. 

Well, her fake boyfriend.

“Not now, Jason, can’t you see I’m giving credit where it’s due?” 

She continued to stroke his ego, and Donatello, while not open about it, was literally eating out of the palm of Kendra’s hands. She went into heavy detail about how much Donatello (and herself) was carrying the group, how good he was at coding, and how competent he was at handling himself, glancing towards April every once in while for kicks. 

April knew Donatello was weak to praise, knew he would suck it up like a sponge and lit up like an open flame if someone so much as implied he'd done a good job on something he'd worked his butt off for, especially if it came from someone he liked a lot. She also knew that the praise he got could blindside him to everything else happening in the scene and cause him to get lost in a bubble of gratification and glee. 

But there was only so much the young woman could take. 

April felt every annoyance prickle under her skin like it was trying to burst its way out. She felt uneasy and contained. Her palms felt clammy but if she balled her hands to make a fist, that wouldn't feel right either. She felt strung up and angry and covetous and even though she would tell herself that she shouldn't be feeling that way, every time Donatello had to take Kendra's hand to place it against the table, she wanted to explode at that moment. 

April stood up, right as her alarm clock went off. Everyone looked at her in shock as she pulled her phone back out of her pocket, though she wasn't 100% sure when she put it back in. She silenced her phone, taking a deep breath before giving the group a tight smile. 

"And that's my cue to go. It's a little late." 

Donatello blinked out of his confusion, quickly gathering his things. "Wait, April, I'll walk you to your dorm." 

She didn't even have time to decline, eyes widening in shock as he messily shoved everything in his bag, almost closing a stray sheet of paper between the zippers in a rush to take her hand. April looked over at Kendra as Donatello led her out of the room, who didn't look a touch out of place, neither by April’s somewhat outburst nor Donatello leaving her side for hers. She sent April a wave, looking extremely pleased with herself. 

She didn't realize how deep set the grimace on her face was until they were outside the building, cold air smacking her dead in the face, making her aware of how twisted it was. Donatello turned to her as he walked, having to look back at her because even with her hand in his, she still fell behind. 

"Alright, are you going to tell me what's wrong, or would you like me to start guessing?" 

She didn't say anything at first; she felt gross and icky and her limbs felt like lead. This feeling, the one she refused to call what it was, made her feel exposed and ugly and it just wasn't nice to look at. In all honesty, she was almost ashamed to have felt it. It was baseless after all. 

"'S nothing. I'm fine." She mumbled, trying to sink into her collar. 

"Eye roll. Now I'm not an emotional therapist, nor am I any form of 'Dr. Feelings' like Mikey, but I don't believe that's the whole truth, April." 

She sighed, "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day." 

Donatello wasn't convinced, but looking at the sad, drained look on her face, the almost frustratingly lifeless tone in her voice, made him bite his tongue, letting silence envelop them as they made it back to her dorm. April had her key ready before they even made it to her floor. 

When she stepped in front of her door, Donatello hadn't let go of her hand, but April didn't look up at him to call him out on it. 

"April," he softly called, “April, look at me.” 

She didn’t. She felt like every emotional turmoil was written plainly on her face, and she didn’t think she could explain them all to him. 

Donatello sighed, pulling her into his arms in a hug, arms over her shoulder, chest to chest. She tensed for a moment before wrapping her arms around him, although not as tightly as his arms were around her. After less than five seconds, April began to loosen her arms to let go, finally looking up at Donatello a little disoriented when he didn’t do the same.

Instead, his arms tightened around her. 

She nervously laughed, “Hey, Donnie? We can’t–-I don’t think it’s a great idea to stand in the middle of the hallway hugging.”

He glanced at the empty hallways, shrugging before moving closer to the wall, his back pressed against it. 

Not knowing what else to do, April buried her face in his sweater, fisting the fabric where her hands laid against his back, silently screaming. She thanked the stars that his sweater was thick because she was sure her heart was making a dent in her ribs and that her skin was warm enough to melt off. 

“So,” she drawled out after about half a minute, “what’s this all about.” 

Donatello sighed, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, “Apparently, according to science, applying medium pressure while hugging can release endorphins and oxytocins that have a multitude of benefits which are, included but not limited to, reducing stress, helping sleep and improve mood.” He pressed his cheek against the top of her head, not minding the softness of her curls against his face, taking in the smell of her citrusy shampoo and conditioner. “The internet says it takes about 20 seconds for it to happen, but there’s no science behind it. The time can vary.” 

She wondered if he was nervous, he only spouted out scientific facts as fast as he just did when he was. She huffed out a laugh, “Are you just gonna hold me until I feel better then?”

He hummed, “If that’s what it takes.” 

“Donnie, I’m…” 

“I don’t know what happened back there in the library, but whatever it was, I do apologize if it was my fault.” 

She shook her head, “It wasn’t you, I was just–-” angry? Feeling neglected? Feeling jealous? “--I was just stressed, you know about finals.” 

She’d have to sit on that one for a while, the idea of being jealous of her best friend getting attention from another girl. She didn’t want to think about what that meant for her right now though. Not in his arms.

From the huff he let out, she knew he could tell she was lying. She didn’t blame him, it felt heavy on her tongue coming out, no way was it believable. 

“Do you at least feel better?” 

“Yeah, Donnie, I feel a lot better now.” At least that wasn’t a lie. 

“Okay.” 

Finally letting go, April felt the faintest pressure against her head, looking up a little baffled as Donatello began barely stuttering out an apology. She laughed it off, not really having a clue what he was apologizing for. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be more embarrassing than anything April had figured out about herself in the last five minutes. 

Chapter Text

.oOo.

Donatello prided himself on discovering just who he was; a snarky asshole, a technological genius, and a thespian with a bit of a green thumb. He was always in control of himself and his emotion, always leading with logic and not emotion because logical actions got the job done. That’s what he knew about himself, and what people always complimented him on. That was his brand, what he was known for. He was the smart one, the brainy one, the man with the plan, the one with his head on straight.

He was never known to be an airhead with his head in the clouds. Never. 

Except these days, 'never' seemed a lot more like 'sometimes', which was turning into 'quite often'. 

The person to blame for that was his barely off-the-ground, spirited best friend, who seemed to drain him of any intellectual train of thought he had. He couldn’t think logically whenever she was involved. There was just something about being around her that made Donatello leap before looking, made him want to do things that forced her eyes to him, and he didn’t realize how terribly effective she was against him until the mishap that happened the other day. 

He could still feel the soft strand of her hair against his lips if he tried hard enough. 

He didn’t know what came over him that night, even the weekend away from her for the fall break, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the action. The amount of adoration and fondness that washed over him while holding her, the frustration of not being able to pinpoint and solve whatever problem was troubling her, the need to act to show her he was there for her, willing to go above and beyond anything she could ever imagine. He’d found himself so incredibly stupefied with her at that moment that he acted without thinking.

"Uh, Donnie? You gonna eat your food or what?" 

"I'm telling you, Raph, he's definitely possessed. He's been like this since last night." 

Donatello blinked himself back to the restaurant he was in, taking in the concerned look on his eldest brother’s face, tiny eyebrows scrunched up in the middle of his forehead. He was putting the sandwich that he ordered down on his plate, giving Donatello his undivided attention, making him a little bad. Raphael wasn’t on campus a lot of the time, deciding the whole ‘college experience’ wasn’t for him, and chose to work close by and take classes on the side, so it wasn’t often that they got to dine with him. He knew it was hard on Raphael, not knowing what his brothers were getting up to, so moments like this where a majority of them were together were deeply treasured. 

 He cleared his throat, sitting up straight from his reclined state, picking up his fork to stab a couple of bowtie pasta before glaring at his brother. 

"I'm not possessed, Leo, I just didn't sleep too well yesterday." He knew he shouldn’t have said that when Raphael glared at him, “But I have been sleeping well enough. Yesterday night was just a one-off instance of lack of judgment that caused me to do something that kept me up half the night.” 

“Yeah huh,” Raphael hummed, “All that to say you didn’t sleep well-–”

“Because you did something regrettable?” Leonardo added, way too excited about the fact of the matter.

“Not regrettable… perse, simply… uncalled for.” He hesitated to say it, because did he really regret it? He felt like he should, but ‘regret’ doesn’t feel like the word he would use to describe what he truly feels. Guilt at having done it without April’s explicit permission, sure; penitence at having left before April was even in the door, absolutely. But regret? No, not Donatello. 

If he regretted anything at all, it was that he missed the opportunity for his lips to press against the softness of her skin or her ruby-colored lips. 

He smacked his lips, grimacing as he all but shoved pasta into his mouth, forcing those kinds of thoughts from his head. It was those kinds of half-conscious thoughts that made him unconsciously make a move on his best friend. 

Leonardo nodded in that smug way that let Donatello know he was about to start something, so he beat him to the punch, “By the way, Leo, how’d your date go?”

The usually slick mouth young man spluttered at that, fluttered as he tried to convince a very intrigued Raphael that it wasn’t a date and that he was just friends with the boy who’s invited him to every kendo match he’s been in, or whatever the two of them would do when they went out. Donatello smiled against his fork; it’s nice to force his brother to explain himself every so often to the elder. 

Raphael looked between the two and sighed, “If I’d known you two weren’t gonna tell poor Raph about what’s going on with y’all, I would have invited April to lunch too.”

Donatello felt his heart beat irregularly at the mention of his best friend, and he pressed a hand against his chest with worry. That’s… never happened before.

Leonardo looked at his phone, “Well if you wanna see her, she’s getting out of class soon enough,” he peered at Donatello, “Are you gonna go pick her up again today?” 

He squinted at him, “I was planning on it, why?”

“I can’t ask about my brother’s schedule out of care all of a sudden?” He could, but Donatello didn’t want him to with that borderline villainous look on his face; that look was reserved for Donatello and him alone. 

Raphael looked between the two of them, “Is your schedule messed up or something?”

"It is not, I just have a lot on my plate because of classes."

"Yeah," Leonardo sang, annoyingly kicking his feet under the table even though his legs were long enough to press flat against the floor, "how do you ever find the time to see your girlfriend? "

Both Raphael and Donatello’s eyes bulged out of their heads. Donatello was sure he looked high-strung as he felt considering Raphael looked completely over him and asked Leonardo about the supposed girlfriend he was supposed to be seeing. 

“Leo!” Donatello yelled, interrupting whatever the smug starlight was about to say. He wasn’t sure this was how he’d tell his brothers about whatever was going on between him and April, but it certainly wasn’t because Leonardo was a petty, spiteful ass who needed to one-up him in terms of embarrassing him. 

“Look, we don’t have to talk about this if you aren’t ready to, Donnie.” Despite saying that, Donatello can clearly see the interest sparkling in his brick house of a brother. Surprisingly, there was a small pinch of smugness in the look, but Donatello was too flustered to examine it. 

“I just haven’t found the way to tell you guys about it.” That wasn’t a lie; he was going to tell them about the whole situation with April sooner or later, but it was a lot more complicated for reasons entirely unknown to him. So while he’d normally be willing to go into heavy detail about whatever long-winded thought he had in his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone until he'd figured it out for himself. 

“What? You don’t wanna talk the cutie with a beauty mark that talks your ear off about whatever techy thing you have going on?" 

“Oh, you meant Kendra,” he rolled his eyes. It was funny how the panicky feeling nipping at his nerves suddenly dissipated when he realized Leonardo wasn’t even considering April. He adjusted his glasses, “If you must be made aware, she’s just a classmate, but she is working me to the bone for our final together.” 

Leonardo raised an eyebrow at Donatello’s sudden deflation in tone but decided to put a pin in it for later, instead regarding the eldest with a huff as Raphael smirked at him before acknowledging Donatello. 

“I hope you aren’t being worked too hard, little brother,” 

“I’m fine, Raph. Leo and April have been aggressively helpful at making sure I take a proper break.”

“Yeah, even though he tries stupidly hard to not listen to me .” 

“You should be used to it by now,” Donatello shrugged.

Raphael perked up, “It’s nice to see you and April are still close, Donnie. You two hang out a lot?”

“Moreso these days, but it’s not like we didn’t text a lot before.” 

Raphael’s eyes cut to Leonardo for a moment before looking back at Donatello, “Oh, any recent developments you’d like to inform the fam of?” 

Leonardo put his forehead in his hand, chuckles of disbelief silently leaving his lips as Donatello slowly examined him. 

“Recent developments in regards to what exactly?” 

Raphael did his best not to meet Donatello’s eye, not knowing the action was quickly digging him further into suspension. He glanced at Leonardo for help but was met with an amused smirk. “Oh you know, with finals and such.”

“April and I are in different classes. You know that.” He quirked, arms folding in front of him on the table. 

“Uh,” he poorly hid the stumbling of his words, “what Raph means to say is must be nice to have that one important friend by your side during the hard times.”

He squinted, “Raph, I have other friends, you know.” 

“You do?” He wasn’t trying to be mean about it, after all, Donatello wasn’t the friendliest Hamato, but he gave him the same blank stare he gave Leonardo when he started laughing. “I mean, of course, you do, Dee, I was just trying to illustrate that, uh–-”

Donatello waved him off, “Don’t worry about it, big bro, I hold no ill-will towards you–-for now.” Raphael did pay for his food, so he could overlook that his brother oftentimes acted before thinking. He would need the practice for himself later, no doubt. 

Completely disregarding the latter part of Donatello’s statement, Raphael smiled sweetly before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. He properly chewed and swallowed his food before talking, which Donatello appreciated greatly. 

“Back to the true matter at hand, I’ll probably have to head back to work before April gets out of class, so can either of you invite her over for Christmas break? Pops won’t say anything, but I think he’s starting to miss us altogether.” 

“Can the old man even get empty nest syndrome if we’re only like three hours away?” Leonardo quirked, but the fondness was easy to read off him.

Donatello shrugged, “Micheal is graduating soon; maybe it’s really hitting him that he’s gonna be in an empty home again.” 

“Yeah,” Raphael agreed, “unless he starts dating again.”

“Eww, dad with a love life, let’s not even go there.” 

"Theoretically, it can happen, despite father no longer being the spring chicken he was back in his heyday–-"

"Nice pun."

"It's a figure of speech, read a book--he could possibly get back into the dating pool as soon as Mikey joins us here."

Donatello smiled softly as he watched the two oldest speculate on their father’s single endeavors. He would never say it out loud, but he did miss the times he spent with his brothers. Being busy with classes, clubs and now finals forced him to focus only on his studies and immediate issues, so the carefree, go-with-the-flow nature of his brothers felt like a breath of fresh air. 

After eating their food, paying, gathering their (Leonardo’s ) leftovers, and grabbing a dessert to go for all of them, they walked Raphael to the main campus and sent him off. After separating from his brother, Donatello glanced at his clock, noting how close it was until April got out of class. He took his time, putting on his noise-canceling headphones and calmly strolling to April’s class.

He got there before the class ended, so he took to casually scrolling through his social media, leaning against the wall across from the door so she could see him as soon as she walked out. Coincidentally, during his scrolling, April texted him, complaining about a few ‘no good, no shows’ who lacked the decency to tell her they weren’t coming to class and leaving her to fend for herself once again. He shook his head, noting to himself that he was getting a lot more of those texts than not. 

He texted back a warning about the company she was choosing to keep and how some people just didn’t deserve the time of day. She responded with an eye roll emoji, telling him she’d go into more detail after she was at her dorm, and asked how long he’d be in the library studying and if she should stop by. He was just about to send a text to tell her where he was when the first student shot out of the class, soon followed by a flood of more. 

When she finally walked out, her eyes widened slightly upon seeing him before a tight smile made its way to her face, and Donatello’s stomach dropped for a moment. She had time away from him, so maybe she’d had the time to think about Donatello’s act against her yesterday and was upset with him. Or maybe she was upset that he had essentially started to grill her about how badly her new choice of ‘friends’ really suited her after being quiet about it for so long. 

When she stepped in front of him, she grabbed the bottom of his sweater, grip tight in the way she always grabbed things when she was seconds away from strangling something, or someone in this case. Donatello took his headphones off quickly, not even stopping the music playing through them.

“April–-”

“Darling,” she strained out, “I didn’t know you were going to be here, thank you for surprising me.” 

Too focused on April approaching him and the sudden warm feeling spreading through his chest at the addition of a pet name, Donatello didn’t acknowledge the figure closely following her out the door until a hard cough sounded. And ah yes, of course. That makes a lot of sense. 

Donatello smiled at her, placing his hand against her elbow, encouraging her closer, “Of course, dear, I was currently in the middle of telling you I was here.” He then glanced at the addition over the frames of his glasses, taking him in before speaking, “And you’re here for?” 

Dale frowned, “April mentioned how busy you were, I was gonna walk her to her next class so we could finish our talk.” 

“As you can see, I’m here to do just that, so there’s no need for it,” he responded, pushing himself off the wall, leading April away by the elbow. 

“Actually,” Dale interrupted, jogging to walk on the other side of April, sending an unfazed smile at Donatello, “April gave me permission to walk with her today.” 

“I didn’t,” she sighed, “I just told him I wouldn’t care one way or the other.”

Donatello hummed, giving Dale the same unimpressed April was giving him, “That hardly sounds like permission if that’s the case.” 

“She didn’t say no.”

“Ah, but anything other than an enthusiastic yes is basically a no, isn’t it?”

“I’d sure say so.” 

Dale gave a start, “That’s not–-”

“Anyways, how was your day, my fair April?” 

She let out a chuckle, biting her lip to keep from endearingly calling him out on his choice of nickname. Though her calling him ‘darling’ wasn’t much better to Donatello, no matter how much it made his blood race through his veins. 

As the three of them walked, Donatello couldn't resist admiring April as she talked, ranting about how impossible her final in another class felt, having been forced to talk about an entirely different subject than what she'd been texting Donatello about before because of the extra party. He watched her lips move, mesmerized by how her lips shaped words. He took in how her dark brown eyes would dart between him and the road in front of her, not letting either of them run into anyone or anything. Despite her ranting and raving almost, something akin to deep-seated affection bubbled in his belly seeing her get so passionate about a topic she pulled off the top of her head. 

The only thing souring his mood was Dale in his peripheral vision looking at April as if she'd hung the sun and the moon in the sky and was personally responsible for Saturn's ring. 

It wasn't that Donatello couldn't understand where the tenacious young man was coming from; April had a presence that was larger than life and it wasn't hard to feel as if she was the reason the sun rose from the East and set in the West. But Dale could hardly appreciate April as a person, he didn't deserve the right to treat her as any kind of astrological figure. 

Once they made it outside the building, Donatello fully took April's hand, entangling their fingers together. He couldn’t help the burst of satisfaction in his chest as April stuttered her next words when his thumb rubbed against the back of her hand. He leaned a little closer to her, moving his arm so her elbow hooked his, bringing their hands up so her index finger pressed against the bottom of his lip.

It wasn’t quite a kiss, but when April looked at him with stars in her eyes and breath trapped in her chest, it still gave Donatello the same feeling it did when April did it to him; overwhelmingly soft, and tender, ready to fall into April’s arms as if she offered him to live there for the rest of his days. 

April let out a heavy breath before letting out a shy laugh when Dale began speaking, trying to fill in the void that arrived when she’d stopped talking, too shocked by Donatello’s PDA to continue on about her current academic gripe of the week. She adjusted her glasses with her free hand, looking back at Dale with the same hand covering the surprised smile on her face, asking him to repeat whatever it was he was going on about. 

Donatello wasn’t listening though. He decided it was better to focus on April’s curious reaction, and the happiness fogging up his mind at being able to be the cause of it. 

“Donnie? Is that alright with you?” 

“Huh?” 

April’s voice brought him out of the recesses of his own mind, which was currently repeating the giddy and breathless way April answered Dale after his actions. She chuckled, waving her free hand in front of his face. 

“If I’d known you were gonna be half asleep, I would have insisted you go back to your dorm and slept.” 

He half-heartedly swatted her hand away, “And leave you without me? Unlikely, my sweet. Now, what was it that you needed from me?”

“April wanted to stop by the bakery,” Dale answered, once again cutting in a conversation Donatello didn’t need him in, “you’d know that if you were actually listening to her.”  

Donatello barely spared the agitated man a glance. Of all the people to get on Donatello about listening, he had the least room to talk. “I don’t mind stopping with you, April,” he replied, “I could use some coffee as well.”

“You aren’t planning on doing an all-nighter, are you?”

He placed a hand on his chest, “I would never. ”

“Except you would.” She sighed, giving his hand a small squeeze before smiling at him, “Man, you’re lucky I like your company, or I’d send you to your dorm right now.”

And he’d probably go if she promised to be there when he woke up. 

The walk to the bakery was spent with Dale either talking over or ignoring Donatello as April tried to talk with him about his day. April tried her hardest to mediate between the two of them, telling Dale he didn't have to tag along, which he didn't take the hint, and apologizing to Donatello for Dale's behavior, which he refused to accept. It wasn't her job to try to keep bad blood from forming between them, especially when Dale was steadily inching away from being friends with her at all. 

When they got to the bakery, Dale made a big deal about opening up the door for April, glaring at Donatello when he didn't let go of her hand as they walked in. Donatello would like to say he was mature enough not to smirk in the sore loser's face, but he was a middle child with three brothers, so that particular maturity trait wasn't installed in him just yet. 

When April walked in, she made a hissing sound as if she'd stubbed her toe against something, stopping in her tracks. Standing a head taller than April, he didn't have a hard time looking over her to survey the area to see why she stopped. 

The bakery was near empty, save a few employees behind the counter and one customer. Donatello blinked in surprise because standing at the counter, scowling down at her phone, was Kendra. 

She glanced over at the sound of the doorbell, giving Donatello an uninterested stare before a spark flashed in her eyes at the sight of April, who let out a slight groan. 

And Donatello thought that was a rather interesting reaction, but he didn’t have the time to ponder over it because after grabbing her to-go cup, Kendra was already on her way over to him. 

“Von Ryan, what a pleasure to see you.” 

April side-eyed him, “How many nicknames you got?” 

Donatello laughed at the amused, overly inquisitive expression on her face, “I go by many of names, one for the many talents I possess.” 

“And a many of talents you have,” Kendra proclaimed, leaning forward although not enough to pop Donatello’s personal bubble, just enough to show that she could, “but you know what they say, a rose by any other name is just as sweet, right, Othello?” 

“Oh brother,” April tsked under her breath. 

“To quote one Shakespearean play and reference another?” He shook his head, leaning away from her. Usually, he would boast about getting someone as proud as Kendra to give him merits, but it was so over the top that he was inclined to think of them as fake. “You’re losing your touch, Kendra.”

She pressed her index finger against her chin, looking up as if in thought, “Should I have called you Romeo instead? That fits just as well.” 

Donatello glanced at April, "I guess that means I can start calling you my Juliet then." 

She laughed, "Oh, that was bad."

After being silent for so long, Dale spoke up, grabbing April’s hand that Donatello wasn’t holding, trying to pull her away from him, demanding, “Come on, April. Don’t you need to get some coffee or something before class?”

April let out a yelp of discomfort as Dale pulled her, yanking her hand away from him, “Hey, what the hell.” She gripped Donatello’s hand harder, and he wasn’t sure if it was because she was close to hitting him, or if she thought he was about to. Admittedly, he did feel the unction hit him. 

“We just have better things to do than stand here and have to witness this.” 

The three stared at him with various looks of distaste before Kendra looked back at the pair. 

“Okay, so who’s the dweeb?” 

April didn't stay to watch Dale flounder through an explanation to Kendra, walking around the duo to get to the counter, pulling Donatello with her, and he was all too willing to follow her. She was silent after ordering her drink, hand loosening and tightening her hold on his like she wasn't sure if she wanted to let go or not. 

Donatello didn't give her a choice, he kept his grip on her hand steadfast. Even when Kendra and Dale made their way over to them, both trying to convince Donatello to step away from April and, admittedly, getting on his nerves. They moved over to pick up April's drink, and only once April got her drink did Donatello let go of her hand. He was too focused on trying to keep Dale and Kendra from getting in between them that he forgot to order something for himself. 

He pulled out his phone, looked at his clock, and tilted his phone at her, "April, do you have enough time to get to your class?"

She leaned against him to look at the screen, taking a sip at her to-go cup as she did. She nodded, "Yeah, it's a catch-up day, so the professor's a little lenient with people coming to class today." 

Dale brightened, "Wow, it's almost like you don't have to go. Maybe we should all hang out instead." He glanced between the two tech geniuses unimpressed. “If you guys aren’t busy, I guess.” 

"Yeah, that's not happening," Kendra placed a hand against Donatello's back. "Besides, Othello and I have a date with the computer lab. Our project has been calling his name since the teacher looked over our process earlier." 

Donatello shooed her hand away, bullying his hand back into April's, "Yeah, I'm not calling it that, but I do have a few ideas I want to add later, but I’ll get to that if I head to the computer lab later." 

"You can go now if you need to," April said, swinging Donatello's hand a little bit, "Besides, I don’t think I'm gonna go to class today. I don’t really feel like it suddenly."

He glared at her, the academic inside him screaming at the fact she would choose to not go to class for no reason. "Unbelievable, April O'Neil, skipping out in classes for no reason." 

She rolled her eyes, shaking her hand out of his and pressing a finger against his nose, "Maybe take a page outta my book and do the same, Mr. Workaholic." 

He took her hand, holding it in his hand before pulling it out of his face, "I work an acceptable amount." 

"Yeah, right. That's exactly why you're on a set schedule." 

Kendra cooed, "Aw, looks like Romeo's Juliet is the controlling type. Won’t even let the man even focus on schoolwork. "

"Not controlling," April let out, "I'm just looking out for him, so he isn't overworking himself." 

Kendra reached up, messing with the end of one of Donatello’s locs, "He's a big boy, I'm sure he can take care of himself." 

Donatello once again swatted her hand away, “You’re really touchy today.” 

“I’m just being friendly.”

April puffed up at that, quickly glancing over at Donatello before taking a deep breath, almost forcibly deflating where she stood, "I'm just looking out for him, that's not a crime." 

"You shouldn't have to look out for him, April," Dale added, once again going ignored as Donatello squeezed April's fingers gently to bring her attention to him. 

"It's not a crime, and if I'm being honest, I think it's very important to have someone look out for you."

Kendra raised an eyebrow, "Like a lab partner."

"Like my girlfriend. Who I should be getting to class right about now." 

Donatello led April to the door, sweetly talking over her as she tried to argue with him. He glared back at Dale and Kendra with one of the looks he usually reserved for Leonardo when he was seriously over whatever shenanigans he would pull, stopping the both of them in their tracks. Whether they stopped from shock or fear, he wouldn't know. He wouldn't dare stop to ask either. 

April walked next to Donatello in silence for a moment, getting away from the bakery before finally asking, "How come you keep leaving with me instead of staying with her? Isn't it ruining the plan a little bit if you’re laying it on so thick?"

"Huh?" He raised an eyebrow at her, readjusting her hand in his, their fingers were no longer entangled together, but Donatello still wanted their palms to press against each other. "I don't know what you mean. Kendra isn't an equation in any plan I've come up with, so whether I leave with you or not doesn't 'ruin' anything. And I'm also not laying anything on thick, I'm playing the role I'm supposed to." 

They finished the walk to April’s class in a silence that bordered awkward too much for Donatello’s liking. When they stepped in front of the door, it was closed but not locked, and even though April pouted at Donatello, he put his foot down, explaining that they’d already walked to the class, so there was no reason to just leave without her going. 

She smacked her lips, but sighed in defeat, briefly mumbling about how hard it was to say no to him sometimes. 

Donatello couldn’t help but smile at her sour expression, taking a deep breath before asking, “Hey, can I try something?” 

“Sure, Dee, just make it quick if you actually want me to get to class.” 

Donatello rubbed his thumb against her knuckles, mind going a million miles a minute about one thought. He repeatedly told himself not to overthink it, just do it. So, he brought April’s hand up towards his face, closing his eyes and placing a kiss against her palm, pulling back slightly to press another one against the inside of her wrist. When he pulled her hand away from his lips, he still held onto it, not letting it fall too far away from him. 

He apologized without giving her a moment to respond, “I just kept thinking about it and I wanted to try it.” 

April cleared her throat before chuckling, “Was this to help some kinda study you’re doing or something?” 

That was a good explanation for it, one that Donatello hadn’t even stopped to think about, nevertheless, he agreed. “Yeah, you know me, always hypothesizing.” 

She pulled her hand out of his, reaching up and patting his cheek, “There’s my Donnie, always trying to figure something out.” 

He wasn’t before that, hadn’t even considered trying to figure out where the sudden need to kiss April and know what her skin felt like against his lips came from, but as a man of science, it was never too late to start. 

.oOo.

April laid face down in her bed when she got out of class, because of course she stayed after Donatello dropped her off and kissed her hand, dropping the absolute bombshell that it was only because he was curious and not because of anything April did. What else was she supposed to do but go with the motions after that? 

She’d already texted Donatello that she wouldn’t be visiting his group with him that night because she was going to be busy, even though she had nothing planned. However, she did need time away from her best friend to get herself together, because she was way too into everything Donatello, and she didn’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill because she lost sight of the goal. 

A goal that admittedly missed its mark on some large occasions, but she was sure it’ll succeed at some point because they were in too deep to stop now. Especially because the main reason this whole thing was started had cranked up the aggression by eleven. There’s no time for this to blow up in her face when it’s nowhere close to achieving what it needed to. 

But Donatello seemed to be reaping benefits like it’d been personally delivered to his house for him. He’d been able to play the role of her (pretend) boyfriend flawlessly, gandering the attention and praise of a pretty girl that was seemingly working super hard to get in between them. Hell, he even has the chance to flaunt some superiority over someone. 

She groaned, realizing that the whole situation was only going bad on her part.

Granted, she wasn’t the one who brought it up, but she was the one who was supposed to benefit from it the most. Not that she blamed Donatello at this point–-though, there was a lot of somewhat misplaced aggression toward him on her part. It wasn't exactly his fault that she was getting the short hand of the stick, and it wasn't like Donatello had much pressure in the whole thing to start. Although, she did have a few complaints against him that were completely justified. 

It was one thing for Donatello to use their fake relationship to rail Kendra up and not tell her, but it was a completely separate thing to do all that and then not fill her in about it after the fact. Especially when April had asked him up front. Well, not upfront, but heavily implied she knew about it. And, except for a few instances where she lost her temper, April felt like she had shown Donatello she was completely willing to play the role he needed her to. As reluctantly as she was in regard to it, she was a good sport, he knew that. 

Also, there wasn't anything she could say about it without her being a hypocrite. She was using their fake relationship to push someone away; it wasn't wrong for Donatello to use it for the opposite effect. Even if it afflicted April with the worst sense of dread and made her want to throw Donatello into a lake for entertaining someone like Kendra. 

And it wasn't that she was jealous or anything like that; she just didn't like the idea that Donatello could possibly be smitten by someone like her. Someone who seemed to want to rail her up as badly as Kendra did; someone whose sly remarks felt a little bitty like she knew more than she let on and wasn’t afraid to bring it up to a person. Someone who could probably see Donatello’s attraction a mile away and wasn’t afraid to pry on it in front of his supposed girlfriend.

Someone who she couldn't really go off on about the distasteful behavior because she didn't really have a basis to do so. Because at the end of the day, she wasn’t his real girlfriend. 

She hated that Kendra happened to be that person that, apparently, her fake boyfriend would be breaking up with her in the near future for. 

But she wasn’t jealous. Not of Kendra. Not April. She was just upset about her circumstances that had nothing to do with the purple-haired girl or the apparent crush her best friend had on her. 

That's what she told herself as she pulled a pillow over her head. 

She barely acknowledged the door opening and closing until she felt her bed dip, and the fluorescent lights flooded her vision as the pillow was lifted off her head. 

Sunita’s soft voice called out to her, “April? Aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with Donatello right now?” 

April sighed, sitting up and pulling the pillow Sunita released to her lap. She was supposed to be at his dorm supervising him to make sure he was resting while Leonardo was in class, but except for sending him reminders, she couldn't muster up the courage to talk directly to him.

“He’s a bit busy right now, so I’m giving him space.” 

“Oh boy, what’d he do?” Sunita kicked off her shoes on the side of the bed, tucking her legs under her as she scooted closer to April. 

April forced out a laugh, “What? He didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Okay, but you sounded a little angry. Plus you had a pillow over your head–-it’s giving the energy of ‘my boyfriend is doing something stupid and I can't take it’.” 

Yep, Sunita put perfectly into words how April was feeling. Except he wasn’t doing anything stupid, and he wasn’t her boyfriend. He was just a boy with a crush and was using a situation he’d come up with to help her to his advantage, and she was wrongfully upset with him about it for no reason.

April sniffled a little; ugh, she really felt like she wanted to cry at that moment.

“April, I like Donatello enough as a person, but if he makes you cry, I will have the legal obligation to fight him." 

She chuckled, "Don't worry, Sunita. I'm not gonna cry." Though, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand just in case.

Sure, there was a lot going on, and she was starting to feel a little overwhelmed with the flurry of emotions she was starting to feel that she wasn’t ready to name, but she wasn't going to cry about it. She wasn’t the type of girl to cry about something like this. Especially with her brilliant, wonderful, idiot best friend's life on the line. 

"Okay," Sunita bumped April's shoulder with her own, "though, if you really need to cry, you know where to find me. I’m always here to talk about anything.” 

April smiled, thanking her friend, and laying her head on her shoulder. “Yeah, I know thanks, Sunita.” She let her thoughts run a little before, “Uh, Sunita, how do you personally deal with your negative emotions?”

“Hmm, be a little specific; I deal with them in a lot of ways. Which one?” 

“Like, you know, jealousy?” 

Spiritedly, Sunita grabbed April by the shoulders, spinning her to face her, “Wait, is this about the purple girl we saw walking with Donatello the other day?” 

April didn’t know how Sunita could sound so winded when she’d basically knocked the wind out of April just now, but she nodded, “Uh, yeah, somewhat. A little bit.” 

“Oh my goodness, April,” she sounded both relieved and agitated at the new information, “I thought Donatello was neglecting you for finals, not that there was some girl involved.” 

“Is that… somehow worse?”

“No, girl, it’s just more realistic.” She let go of April’s shoulders and flopped against the bed. “Donatello seems more likely to be a neglectful boyfriend than a cheater! You don’t have anything to worry about in this regard, April.” 

“You’d really think so, wouldn’t you,” she groaned, laying next to Sunita, “They kinda just get each other, and they're kinda alike in a way. I don't know if I could measure up to that.” And she’s actually Donatello’s type to the T, not like April at all. 

“What, she acts like him?”

“Yeah, scarily so.” 

“Then I doubt she gets him as well as you do,” Sunita turned to her, curling against April’s side, “I get it’s a little scary when someone is exactly like someone else, but actually getting them isn’t the same thing as being a little similar, and no one gets Donatello like you do, April.” 

“You haven’t seen the two of them together though.”

“No, but I’ve seen you and Donatello together, and that boy treats everyone else like a nuisance when they come between the two of you.” 

April chuckled, “That’s what happens when you’re best friends since childhood.” 

“It’s different, I think you just can’t see it because you’re looking too closely.” She poked April’s cheek until she looked at her, “Donatello’s always looking at you, whether you see it or don’t, I do. And I’m sure a lot of other people do if you ask them. And don’t say it’s cause you’re childhood friends. I don’t know if he has many of them, but if he looked at all his friends like he looks at you, he’d have a reputation by now.” 

“So you think I should give him more credit?” 

“Sure, him too, but I was thinking moreso about you. You’re his girlfriend, you should trust that he wants to be with you.” 

April tried to smile, but she couldn’t help but think about how upset Sunita would be once they had to fake a breakup. 

“Thanks, Sunita, don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Well, lucky you, you don’t have to think of that,” she kicked her feet a little, “Think of me as your fairy godmother.” 

April laughed, “Yeah, I’ll definitely do that.” 

She was really thankful for Sunita’s friendship, it might be the one thing keeping her up once this situation with Donatello finally hits the fan and ends. Because there was no way in April’s mind that this would end without her getting her heart broken one way or another, and no matter how hard she tried to steel herself up to avoid it, she couldn’t make thinking about the whole thing ending not hurt. 

Hopefully, Sunita won’t mind picking April off the metaphorical floor when it does. 

.oOo.

To say Donatello was at his wit's end was a bit of an understatement at this moment.

He was only working on about three hours of sleep, having snuck out of his dorm to avoid the nap he was supposed to take with April while Leonardo was in class, hiding away in the back corner of the library to get some more work done. No matter how many times the two of them said they weren't trying to babysit him, they sure did hover. 

It was already the last week of November, and with only two weeks left of the semester, he’d only have so much time before the rest of his finals needed to be completed in a way that would blow his professors' socks off. He’d already gotten two finals out of the way but still had so much to get done, self-afflicted as it may be. Trying to find time to finish building a prototype for his robotics club because there was a hint going around that a big-time developer was looking for someone up incoming to sponsor was hard enough, but pairing that with the remaining AI work for the system he had to perfect-with the help of his team, of course-trying to look over notes and study for his chemical science class, and still having to turn in assignments for the rest of his prerequisite class, he felt stretched thin. 

If it wasn’t for April setting him reminders to rest and eat, he was sure he’d have dropped by now. Just earlier, she’d sent him a text about proper nutrition, reminding him to stop to get a sandwich and juice from the sandwich shop before they closed. Having gotten the food himself this time, he didn’t have the chance to see her, and the unfortunate truth was that even though he saw her earlier, he really missed being next to her. 

He blamed the fact that he missed a very necessary nap and he slept so much better when April was somewhere in the general area. In his mind, missing that much-needed sleep was the fault of April not being around, so it wasn't unexplainable missing her. 

Sluggishly–because of the exhaustion clinging to his limps–Donatello slowly began putting away his small mountain of books. He wanted to take his food to the sitting area outside the library, not wanting to disturb the quiet serenity of the area. He’d just started unplugging his computer from the port when the chair in front of him was pulled out, dragging against the floor, making way too much noise for it to be April.

He sighed, continuing to put his stuff away and whispering harshly, “Nardo, I hope you’re not here to tell me you left your key again–oh.” 

That was definitely not his brother.

Dale looked almost as uncomfortable to be there as Donatello was shocked that he’d actually approached him.

“Uh, hey,” he folded his arms against the table, trying to make himself look put together, but Donatello could tell the false bravado a mile away. “I know the two of us haven’t really talked one on one before, but I needed to talk to you. You know, as a friend of April’s.”

Donatello thought he was using the term a little too loosely, but now wasn’t the time to bring it up, “Sure, if you say so. What’d you want?”

He looked surprised at Donatello’s tone, but what did he expect? Cordialness from someone who was honestly starting to feel like they were being stalked? Not likely.

“So, April–” 

“I’m going to stop you there,” he interrupted, holding a hand out when Dale tried to continue. “The two of us? We aren’t friends, so I’m not going to sit here and have boy’s talk with you. And I’m also not going to take some half-baked advice you have to give just because.” 

Dale frowned, “I’m actually coming to you as a concerned party of April’s. She’s probably being really nice about it, so I thought I’d spell it out for you.” He cleared his throat as Donatello rolled his eyes, “You guys haven’t been spending a lot of time together, you know? April told me she’s been feeling pretty lonely.” 

Ah, so fake concern was the lie he was going off of. “Scoff, she told you that?” 

He ignored him, “I think having to be considerate to a dude that’s more focused on school than her is keeping her from having fun. Objectively speaking, of course.” 

“Of course,” Donatello snarked, his tone completely unconvinced.

Dale looked at Donatello for a moment, “Listen, I invited April to a party at the end of the semester. She said she wasn’t sure because you weren’t much of a party person, but I wanted to ask.” 

Oh, that was… information that Donatello wasn’t privy to. She wasn’t much of a party type of person, but April did like getting out every once in a while, and he hadn’t heard of her going to any party previously, so she was due for at least one party this semester. But April hadn’t even mentioned it to him, though that might be because she had no intentions of going either way.

Though, he would have still liked to know about it. At the least, he would have liked the find out any other way than from Dale.

“So, you want me to come to this party of yours with April?” 

He looked a little bashful, “It’s not really my party, and I was kinda thinking you’d tell her to go without you.” 

Convince April O’Neil to go somewhere she didn’t want to go to with people she barely tolerated without someone who could give her an easy out? Somewhere she didn’t even let her alibi know about before using him as a reason not to go, because she was sure the information would never pass his ears? Not likely at all. And the audacity to ask that of Donatello, of someone to whom Dale had a borderline antagonistic behavior to, was astonishing, to say the least. 

Donatello slowly blinked at him. “You think I could or would tell my girlfriend to go to a party without me, to attend with you of all people?” 

Donatello thought Dale would backtrack at the statement, thought he would throw in the other two girls, or make an excuse of how they were going to be meeting more friends there. But he didn’t.

He leaned forward like he was stepping up to some challenge against Donatello, and said lowly, “I know you'd hate to hear this, but given the circumstances, I could probably treat her a lot better than you could.” 

And as much of an ass as Dale was making of himself, Donatello was at least happy he’d stopped the sickening front that he was talking to him with April’s best interest in mind. Although, he was sure the man probably still thought he was, considering he seemed to think ‘April’s best interest’ and ‘April being his girlfriend’ were synonymous.

Donatello sat back in his chair, giving himself the extra space to think before speaking or acting, not wanting his sleepless, anger-hazed brain to make up a conclusion that was half finished. He crossed his arms, “Eye roll, so you could treat April better than I can? Do you really think so? Is that your final answer?” 

“Realistically? I know so.”

Donatello cruelly smirked. “While I know you could never be more wrong in this lifetime or the next, and while I would never bet anything on April’s name, I’m also a man of science and therefore a huge fan of the scientific method, so how about this? I have an idea; a proposition, if you will.”

His sleepless-fogged brain won out.

Dale tilted his head, “Okay?”

“April and I will be coming to the party. While we're there, I'll give you, hmm, an hour to convince me and April that you actually do deserve her. If you can show her a good time, and give her the night of her life, then you win. If she’s just as unimpressed by you as always, then I win. Though, I'm not going to leave you alone with her."

Dale stared, taking in the information given to him, "How am I supposed to prove anything to her if you're gonna be there?" 

Donatello couldn't believe he was about to say this, "You're supposed to be a super casanova, apparently. Show off your killer moves, dazzle her. Convince her you're better company than I am."

"And if I do win?"

He shrugged, "I'll break up with her. It'll be April's decision to date you then."

Which she wouldn't, but Donatello wasn't sure he'd be able to hammer that into Dale's mind at all. Especially when his face washed over with that hopeful optimist flair that had Donatello sighing at what was going to be the most horribly overwhelming evening. 

"But," he said, making sure Dale didn't get too excited. "When you ultimately fail at wooing April in any regard, you have to let this whole crush thing go and leave it alone. Also, accept the fact that April has a boyfriend and doesn’t want to date you.” 

Dale frowned at the notion despite Donatello knowing that April had expressed the sentiment multiple times more aggressively than he could. "Fine, you got yourself a deal.”

He put his hand out to shake on it, but like the first time they’d met, all Donatello did was stare. Taking a shaky breath and clearing his throat awkwardly–prompting a few shushes from the students around him–Dale took his leave. Watching him walk away, Donatello slowly put his laptop up as his brain replayed the events that just took place. 

Oh boy, he really goofed that one up, didn’t he? 

.oOo.

April nodded understandingly hands folded in front of her on the table.

“Hamato Donatello, you are a dead man.” 

They were currently sitting at the pizzeria Leonardo part-timed every once in a while. After calling April and practically begging her to meet him there as quickly as she could, Donatello told her all about how he’d essentially thrown her under the figurative bus. He’d like to say that her threat didn’t hold much value considering she was a table’s length away, but April was a creature of true wonders, so he tucked his feet closer to himself just in case.

“In my greatest defense, I’d only slept three hours.” 

"Which is why Leo and I put you on a set schedule. Aren't you done with some of your classes anyway, why aren't you sleeping more?"

He was done with some of his classes, but that just meant he had more time to work on other projects. He was already in trouble with her, though, so he begrudgingly let the justifications go. 

April groaned when he looked away, leaning back in her seat and throwing one of her hands in her curly bangs. "I didn't want to go, that's why I didn't say anything to you about it. And I already told Dale no." 

“Yes, I can see why this would be frustrating, but think about what this could mean for you, April," Donatello pointed a finger in the air, visually mapping out his thought process, "I did give him conditions that would make this whole thing worth your while once it’s over. I will also be attending the party, so it’s not like you’ll be all alone with him, and I already informed him that I will not be leaving you alone with him, so I haven’t completely thrown you to the sharks. Not to mention, lightbulb, if all goes according to plan--and considering I was the one to come up with this scheme, it will--we can nip this whole "Popeyes boy won't leave me alone" thing in the bud once and for all."

She rolled her eyes, sitting up and hitting him with one of her unimpressed looks, "And you really think this is guaranteed to work?" 

"Ah, but of course. Even in my sleep-deprived state, I could lead someone as simple-minded as Dale into a sabotaged situation. The whole thing is stacked against him in the first place considering you have zero romantic feelings for him anyways; I've practically manipulated this whole situation so that you, and I by extension, come out on top.” He pulled out his phone, typing away in his notes app, “And even if for some strange reason my grand master plan doesn’t work out in our favor, I still have a few fail-safes to fall back on.”

“And those include?”

He just took a sip of his water, fake innocence sparking in his eyes. 

April let out a dry laugh, landing somewhere between amused and angered, shaking her fist at him dramatically, "Goddamn you, Donnie; take all your evil deeds, and rot in hell.”

Donatello, realizing she was trying to find humor out of the situation, chuckled against the rim of his cup, letting out with a low tone, "I’ll see you there, O’Neil. You are, after all, my dear partner in crime."

Chapter Text

.oOo.

The first week of December came with the blast of holiday cheer that gave April a bit of whiplash, especially when her usually tired and exhausted best friend was wild-eyed and excited to celebrate the holidays. 

April could only guess that it was because it was the first time he'd been away from home for so long. So, when he'd showed up after one of the classes she didn't share with Dale, breathless and begging her to follow him without question, she didn't think to say no to him. Then again, when does she ever? 

So, she and Donatello hopped on his moped–one of the only vehicles Freshmen were allowed to have–and made the almost 45-minute trip to the super mall so he could no doubt look around to see if the mall had anything he could gift for his brothers and father. April tried not to think too much about the way her arms circled his waist, keeping her hands locked around her wrists to avoid turning it into an actual embrace. She was already feeling a lot of conflicting emotions, and she didn't want holding him for that long to conflict them anymore. 

Donatello obviously didn't get the memo considering the second he'd found a place to park, he hopped off his moped and immediately grabbed her hand. His mouth was already moving a thousand miles a minute, explaining to her the best time to look for presents was early enough that companies were trying to pander to the public, but far enough away from the holidays that the people who rushed to find something reasonably priced weren't trying to fight to get to the last item on the shelf. He assured her that they wouldn’t be getting swept up in the horrible holiday mobs, and even if they did, he’d make sure she was safe in the crowds. 

Not that April really cared about that stuff; she was an online shopping/grab-as-you-see-fit kind of gal. But it was cute to hear him ramble on about the "perfected science of gift-giving during the holiday" because he cared so much about it. 

And that thought gave her a pause. Sure, as childhood best friends, April had developed a habit of finding interest in things Donatello was interested in, but never had she found them cute. Entertaining, yeah, but cute? 

Trying to refocus, April looked around the mall, taking little interest in the random kiosks selling random stuff. "So, are you looking for anything specific or…?"

"What?" His eyes cut to her briefly before looking back at the very quickly put-up holiday decorations, "I'm not planning to go shopping for the season until we're let out for the winter break."

"Uh-huh," she hummed slowly, "so what are we doing here?" At that moment, April realized they walked right past some of Donatello's usual stores he shopped at and were quickly heading to the food court.  

"As you know, now that my classes are more or less over, Leo has been forcing me into some 'much-needed brother bonding time’ and so far the only thing that entails is watching a plethora of streaming movies.” He waved his hand around looking off, appearing flustered in April’s limited view of his face.

“Okay?” she chuckled in amused confusion, “And that made you wanna come to a mall?”

“Yes, because we… recently watched a movie that had a–” he waved his hand between the two of them, “–um, fake dating plotline, and it had me thinking about us. Before the plot thickened and the two oblivious main characters started to they'd fallen in love with each other, they seemed to have a few fun events with one another before everything went down. So, I thought that maybe we should do that as well.”

April felt her heart flutter, excitement forcing her to fight the corners of her mouth from forming a smile. Instead, she coughed out a laugh into her hand, hoping it covered the mystery of why she’d suddenly felt so giddy, “Donnie, are you telling me this is a date?”

That would explain why he was dressed up so nicely, and why he urged her to dress up in something comfortable yet stylish when they stopped by her room to drop off her school bag in exchange for a smaller bag to carry her cards and IDs.

She giggled when Donatello started, finally looking at her with an embarrassing twist on his lips, a dark berry painting his face, not at all pleased with her laughing at him. But, she’d rather him be a little upset with her than suspicious. 

His unoccupied hand reached up to the back of his neck, “Kind of? I was talking with the purple dragons after our presentation–which I totally killed by the way.” 

“Yes, of course,” she smiled.

“And Jason asked me if I would be taking my girlfriend out to celebrate or something before the class party we’re having later today. When I said not really, Kendra mentioned how weird it’d be if I’d never taken you out to celebrate with me. And so, here we are–” he waved his hand at the extravagance of the red, green, gold, and silver sparkly decoration, “–taking in the holly, jolly joy and decoration of our nearest super mall.”

“Ah,” April couldn’t help the decline in her voice at the mention of Kendra, the unfortunate, hot flames of envy eating at her fingertips, because, really, it somehow always came back to Kendra, didn't it? “So, you needed something to help cover your tracks, huh?”

Of course, because what girl in their right mind would want to date someone they saw as a bad boyfriend? 

He rolled his eyes as she lightly jabbed him with her elbow in jest, “Yes, it’s all a part of my sinister plans to make our relationship more legitimate; by convincing my classmates that I take you on dates.” 

She shrugged, smirking as she teased him, “You always like looking the best, and it’s not a good look for ‘ the greatest boyfriend this world has ever known ’ to not take his girlfriend out on dates, you know? You need the brownie points, don't worry; I know your angle.”

“It’s not for you, you know,” He huffed, lips forming into a small pout and thumb rubbing nervous circles on the back of her hand, hesitantly mumbling, “I just thought that with everything that’s happening with your classes, and my recent mess up with Dale, you deserved to have some fun with this whole fake dating thing.” 

April could feel her cheeks warm at the amount of consideration Donatello was showing her, and she had half a mind to take her hand from his to wipe it against her jacket just in case it was starting to get sweaty. 

She wanted to sigh; this was why she couldn’t purposely hold on to any ill feelings towards Donatello about this whole thing, and also why she tried not to rise to any of Kendra’s ruses. Misguided as he sometimes was, Donatello always thought about her best interest and wished her happiness above all else, and she wanted to do the same. She would do the same, her feelings be damned. 

They’d just walked through the food court, scanning the area for a clean table to sit at, and April sighed, leaning her head against Donatello’s shoulder before giving him a smile, “Alright, Dee, fine. I’ll bite, okay?” She gave his hand a squeeze, "I look forward to having fun on our little date."

Donatello studied her with bewilderment, eyes scanning her face for any trace of sarcasm or disinterest. When he found none, he let a slow smile grace his lips; a soft, disbelieving smile that made April think he was actually excited at the idea of taking her on a date. 

"Okay," he announced, chest sticking out and posture completely upright like he was a proud leader, "first, we'll get some food, I just got my allowance for the month so you don't have to worry about getting anything. It's on me. Afterward, we'll explore the stores a bit, we'll only be window shopping though because we're on my moped and there wouldn't be enough space."

April rolled her eyes endearingly. So he really did want to go gift shopping and opted out of it. She briefly wondered if Raphael wouldn't mind driving to them for some extra transport room if it came down to it. "I don't have anything to do in my other classes today, so we can catch a movie too if you want. Maybe even hit the arcade." 

He gave her a dry grimace, making her laugh. He started leading her to a tablet one of the custodians had just walked away from, still slightly wet and smelling strongly of disinfection. Donatello pulled out a seat, ushering April to sit in it while he went to get food. They pulled their coats off, setting them in the seats next to April.

"While I would normally scoff at the idea of academic misconduct, I suppose I'll overlook it just for today. Is it my choice on what to eat this time?" 

She sat with a smirk, putting her elbows on the table and not caring that the ends of her oversized, thick sweater were a little moist. "Yeah, it's your turn. And no hour-long Ted Talk about the importance of attendance and the horrifying pipeline of truancy and other, more dangerous crimes and outcomes?"

"Eye roll, I'm being lenient with you." 

She copied the action, "Maybe you're just getting soft?" 

He raised his eyebrow and hummed, leaning against the table with one hand and pressing the other against the back of her seat, angling her towards him. Donatello invaded her space as if it meant nothing to him, as if he belonged there.

"Maybe I am getting a little soft," he whispered, forehead slightly bumping against hers, the sound of their glasses clinking together from the closeness loud in April’s ears. He held eye contact before pulling back with a smirk, "but if it's only for you, I don't think I mind that so much." 

April was sure her face was lit on fire, feeling tense as the weight of Donatello's words hit her like an eighteen-wheeler. It wasn’t the first time Donatello had said something flirty to her, and April doubted that it would be the last, but this felt more loaded than his usual quips and teases. She could feel her heart fluttering, her blood running warmer, and struggled to keep her mouth from floundering in bashful confusion. 

"Why would you—! Just go get the food, fool?!" 

He chuckled, standing up straight, "Fool? It looks like I'm not the only one going soft, April." 

As he walked away, April pressed her hands against her warming cheeks, thanking the stars that her complexion kept her from turning too bright red. If Donatello ever caught wind of how flustered she’d gotten, he’d never let her live it down.

 Just who did he think he was making her heart flutter like that? His ex-superstar father? The perfected version of the casanova Leonardo tried to portray himself as? Did flirty genes like that run in the family, or did Donatello just get lucky and win that race in the gene pool? Either way, curse him.

She leaned against her hands, elbows on the table as she glanced over to Donatello, seeing him stand at the restaurant selling various rice bowls. She raised an eyebrow when she realized his overall disposition seemed a little happier than it did at the school, and even though she couldn't really put her finger on it, she had to admit that seeing Donatello with that happy pep in his step made her smile.

Realizing how much her eyes were following the tall young man, April pulled out her phone, deciding it’d be safer to look at her phone instead of gazing at Donatello like she was infatuated with him. She glared at the screen when her mind sampled a small, “Well, aren’t you?” at the thought, pushing the thought and feelings to the back of her head. 

It was probably just a side-effect of fake dating. Her mind was pushing her completely, totally platonic feelings over that scary cliff of romanticism without the real context of the situation because there was no way April could be thinking about Donatello in that light otherwise. Or that’s what she told herself, and that’s what she would stick with. 

April sat up straighter in her seat when Donatello returned to the table, pushing a spicy chicken rice bowl in front of her alongside a bottle of mango guava juice, and April smiled when she realized he’d remembered her one-time order. She watched him dig into his own food, a roasted vegetable rice bowl, for all of three seconds before she got the unction to take a picture of him, and not one to deny herself of most of her urges, she did. 

She chuckled at the picture, noticing that Donatello looked at her just as she took the picture, mouth open wide as he spooned a small mountain of rice into his mouth. Looking up at the now glaring Donatello, she winked, “What? Gotta take a few candid of our date.” 

He made sure to chew his food fully, swallowing to avoid choking, “I wasn’t quite privy to the rule that I had to be in the middle of eating when said ‘candid pictures’ were taken.” 

April took a picture of her food, wasting no time sending it to Sunita and Michelangelo for their chief’s perspective on it, “It’s candid for a reason, dear,” she mocked.

He rolled his eyes, but the amused smile on his face was evident, “Whatever you say, darling, try not to use it against me the next time we go toe to toe.” 

She didn’t tell him that she couldn’t use it against him because he actually looked good in the picture. She also didn’t want to admit that the little bubble of affection she was trying to keep from exploding in her chest kept her from truly seeing the picture as blackmail material, instead seeing it as a memento of their day out together. 

April wanted to groan at the thought, wishing that the bubble would deflate soon to avoid anything messy happening at the end of the semester. She considered sending the picture to Leonardo so he could help her find the humor in it, just to speed up the process a little. 

“Are you and your mom going to be super busy during the break?” Donatello asked after devouring half his bowl, considering if he should reseal the rice and take it with him or just trash the rest. 

April, who took more time enjoying the taste of her quick meal, hummed as she chewed her food, thinking of her and her mother’s usual itinerary. “Probably the same thing we do every year. Exchange presents, eat a meal larger than the two of us can eat, share some with the neighbors we like, you know, the whole shebang. Why?”

“My dear eldest brother, Raphael, has brought it to our attention that our father might just be missing your–as well as our–presence in the house. He’s probably going to throw a Christmas party during the break, and I was wondering if you’d be my plus-one.” 

The party was an Hamato tradition; their father, Hamato Yoshi nicknamed Splinter for reasons unknown, was at his core, a very family-orientated man. So any holiday that specified the importance of family time and togetherness was made a big deal in the household. As a family friend, April and her mother (who sometimes couldn’t make it) were always invited and welcomed with open arms. If there was an event that they planned, the invitation was always extended to April as well–it was an unspoken rule. 

But Donatello had just invited her as his plus one.

April twirled her fork on an empty spot in her bowl, mulling over asking if she was going to be his plus one and his alone, but shook her head, ignoring the thought altogether. Better to stay away from thoughts and jokes like that for now. 

She smiled, pushing her food away, stomach twisting in too many conflicting knots to continue, “Of course, you know I love a get-together with you guys. I’ll see what mom’s doing, so make sure to keep me updated about the date.” 

“Alway. I think Mikey would actually break me in half if I didn’t.”

She chuckled, “He does get pretty intense about family gatherings, it’s bound to be a ball if Mikey’s there to help.” 

Donatello shrugged, thinking it over, “Once he’s here, he’s staying until the break, so it’s up in the air. But I think he’d still be pretty intense when we get home.” 

“Love that for him.” Finally finished with her rice bowl, April made sure to get up as much trash as possible, "Alright, I'm done with this. Where to first, captain?” 

Donatello collected their trash, quickly throwing it away, grabbing their coats, and ushering April out of her seat so he could lead her back to the lobby of the mall. He led them through multiple stores, pulling out his phone and taking pictures of seemingly random things, purposefully catching a few with April in them. There were times when he let her pose for the picture, for example, when she picked up a cute hat or some funky glasses, or when she found something that made her eyes light up with such unbridled joy that Donatello couldn’t help but smile at her, amazed by her amazement. 

He chuckled when she would point at something, claiming it’d be a great gift for one of his brothers or his dad, side-eyeing him and examining his reactions as he looked it over, and Donatello knew she was trying to scope out a present for him. She used to be better at this, sneakily making him pick out his presents for himself, but Donatello spent years watching April and memorizing her mannerisms, so she couldn’t get anything past him now. He knew her too well. 

April picked up on what he was doing, analyzing her as she analyzed him, and pouted at him. 

“What?” He teased, leading her away from the old robodog toy that she insisted she was looking at with Michelangelo in mind, leading her out the door of the antique shop. “You have to be better than that, April.” 

She huffed, arms crossing while Donatello pulled her into a jewelry shop. “Just because you’re suspicious of me doesn’t mean I’m up to something.”

“Oh, but you are, I can tell from the twinkle of your eye,” he joked, leaving her side to scan the displays. “And also because Angelo hated those dogs with a burning passion growing up, and I know there’s no way you would forget the week of despair from not getting a real dog.” 

She headed to the other side of the small display, dismayed at being so easily seen through, yet still not wanting to concede. “Maybe I have a good hunch that he’s changed his mind?”

Donatello didn’t respond, too enthralled by a set of necklaces; gold and amethyst and seafoam green catching his eyes so fully that he almost panicked when April stepped behind him. He’d pointed out some star-shaped earrings so she didn’t see him ogling at what was looking to be a great surprise gift. He mentally pinned the store’s name to the back of his mind, already planning out how he would make the time to come back and put in an order before she and his brothers left together for New York. 

Once they made their way to the map close to one of the entrances to the mall, they played rock-paper-scissors to decide whether they’d go to the theater or the arcade, because Donatello deduced they wouldn’t have time for both. April won, best five out of seven because Donatello refused to take defeat gracefully, and she joked about him finding a game to beat her when they made it to the arcade.

She was such a sore winner, but then again, it wasn’t hard to be with Donatello. 

He set an alarm on his smartwatch so they didn't stay too long, knowing that time doesn't exist in mall arcades. 

The arcade was loud. The lights were slightly dimmed, letting the LED lights of the machines shine through, giving the whole place a night-like vibe. There weren’t too many people around, a few stray families probably celebrating an event together, a few groups of college students, and some stray workers problem-shooting some of the games. It would have probably been sensory overload for Donatello if he wasn’t already accustomed to overcrowded areas. 

Even still, April grabbed his hand, leading him to the machine where they could pay for play cards, making sure to yell “Coming through!” so none of the children barreling through could run into either of them. The fact that she’d taken it upon herself to be his defense, even when he didn’t need it, made Donatello squeeze her hand softly, which she took as a thank you, but it meant so much more to him than those words. 

She ordered two play cards, choosing the appropriate amount of play points for the cards, telling him they could buy more if they needed, and if they didn’t use them all, they could always come back another time. 

Donatello felt a spark of hope at the prospect of bringing April back to the arcade to spend the possible remaining points, but still jokingly complained that he’s been to an arcade before, and didn’t need the tutorial. He faked a loud cough when she reached for her wallet. 

“Excuse me, just what do you think you’re doing?” 

She motioned to the machine, “It says insert payment? I’m gonna pay for the service?” 

He was already pulling his wallet from his pocket, trying to maneuver around April as she put up a struggle, “I already told you it’s on me.”

“Okay, but that was for lunch.”

“The rest is implied.” 

“Implications don’t hold up in court, Donnie,” April leaned her back against the machine, heated eyes meeting his, “Have you considered that I wanted to treat you at least once today?”

Having enough, Donatello leaned forward, grabbed April by the waist, picked her up, and placed her behind him so quickly, she didn’t have the time to complain about it, remaining quiet as Donatello proclaimed smugly, “If you want to treat me that badly, plan your own date next time and do it then,” swiping his card and watching in satisfaction as the two cards plopped out, waiting to be taken. And he did, turning to April with a triumphant smirk, which lessened when he noticed she was hiding her face in her hands. 

He stiffened, glancing around for a moment before leaning forward to speak softly in case he’d offended her, “Uh, hey, I was just, uh, joking if that–”

“I can’t believe you just lifted me like I weigh nothing.” 

He realized she wasn’t offended as much as she was embarrassed, so he tilted his head to the side, “But you do?” To him at least. He was no starter gym rat like Raphael, or a well-recognized athlete like Leonardo, but he wasn’t weak. 

She glared at him over the tips of her fingers, murmuring, "Take me back to my dorm right now.” 

He chuckled, passing April one of the cards which she snatched begrudgingly, “Sorry, you know the rules; I’ve already spent the money on them, so we have to play at least one game.” 

“I’m gonna kick your butt in skeeball.” 

He rose to the challenge and the other challenges that quickly followed since neither of them wanted to concede. While April was admittedly better at a lot of the video games, she won more times than Donatello, but that didn’t stop him from gloating in the moments that he did win, not caring about the technical difficulties that April sometimes experienced because machines could only take so much. Unfortunately for her, a win's a win in Donatello’s book, and she would have to deal with it until he had no choice but to put his foot in his mouth after she beat him again. 

After playing their favorite games, they went into the section where the claw machines were lined up and elected to challenge each other there, seeing who took the least amount of time to win a prize.

April absolutely despised the challenge because Donatello was a wiz at claw machines for some unknown reason. He either was lucky beyond all belief or he was a real-life hack, but she knew she’d sighed as she bid farewell to her winning streak as Donatello strolled the aisles, bragging about which prize he would win for himself first. 

She had a rule to only try a claw machine three times, and if it didn’t work out for her, she’d quit or risk losing all her points. Donatello, on the other hand, only needed three times max to win a prize. 

Donatello decided it was his turn to be a sore winner, going for and winning the Kuromi plush doll April had wasted seven tries trying to win. And it had only taken him two times. When he pulled the plush doll from the chute, he'd waved it at April, a smug smile on his face.

"I won't give you the satisfaction of outright admitting defeat." She uttered, eyeballing Donatello as he stood. 

"I wouldn't want it any other way, April. What fun would it be if you did." He passed her the plush doll. "Here, take it as a consolation prize for being such a good sport." 

April looked at the machine, pointing at a smaller plush doll with a hook attached to the top of it, "Get that one so we match." 

He immediately dropped the challenge at the mention of it. 

They scanned more of the claw machines, walking hand in hand, a Kuromi plush doll under April's arm and a smaller one attached to the loop in Donatello's hip. 

Donatello looked at his smartwatch, mouth twisting as he took in how much time they had left, despairing at the thought of having to go back to the school and ending their date. He let out a surprised gasp when April paused, being pulled to a stop and dragged to the side.

"Oh," she cooed, "I definitely need that. " 

Donatello looked up to see a Kappa plush doll, black buttoned eyes with a monobrow, red cheeks, and bordering close to the ugly scale Donatello looked confusingly at April as if she was speaking a language he didn't learn. 

"Wouldn't you like something else?"

She shook her head, "No, this one specifically. It's great." 

April seemed thrilled to have it, so he didn't have it in him to argue. 

He got it after four tries, which ruined his record, but he honestly wasn't trying to get it. He was hoping he ran out of points before getting close to winning it. Sure, he knew April liked weird things and reveled in almost all levels of strange, but he couldn't understand the fascination with that toy specifically. However, after not getting it the last time and seeing April eyeballing the toy with interest and want, Donatello didn't care for the explanation.

If April wanted it, she would get it.

April cheered when Donatello grabbed the plush doll out of the chute by its leg, fist-pumping before grabbing it from him. She held the plush dolls up next to each other. "Look at that, Kuromi, you got a sibling," she joked, looking between Donatello and the kappa. "I think I'll name you Donatello Two." 

Donatello groaned, “Ugh, April, please don't Little House of Horrors me with that thing.” 

She attempted to cover the place its ears would be, “Don't be mean to Donatello Two! He's cute in an ugly kinda way. Kinda like Donatello One.”

Donatello placed a hand against his chest, “Offended gasp! How dare you insult me after I've done you a favor! See if I win that Pokemon keychain you were eyeing up when we walked over here.”

She laughed, wrapping her arm around Donatello's arm to pull him towards another claw machine, stopping short when she heard the loud chimps of Donatello's smartwatch over the sounds of blaring noises of the video games and screams of the random children running loose from their parents. 

Donatello smacked his lips, turning the watch off and frowning at April. "It would appear we have to leave sooner rather than later if I am to get back by the time the party starts." 

April sighed, but nodded, letting Donatello lead her to the exit, noticing how slowly he was going. She held her plush dolls closer to her chest, squishing them together so neither fell from her one arm, scanning the games and machines as they walked past. Her eyes widened a little, stopping in her place and pulling Donatello to a stop with her for the second time that day. 

Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Donatello before pointing excitedly at the photo booth, tucked in the "Donnie?"

"Oh, look at what we have here." He glanced at the photo booth hiding in the corner of the arcade.

She flashed her card to him, struggling to do so with her hands full, “I’m sure I still have enough points on this to do at least one set.”  

He didn’t bother looking at his watch before telling her, "Okay, that'll be the last time we do."

April smiled, pulling him into the booth, scanning her card, and picking a theme for the photos. They put their coats and April’s dolls down under the camera’s perimeter, making sure nothing peaked out and ruined the photos. 

Because they went with the duo option, a lot of the themes were all couple based, and even though it made April nervous, Donatello was willing to do some of the couple themes. 

"We are on a date, after all," he reasoned.

April only had a second to wonder if it would be alright to keep the booth photo after the day because the theme flashed across the screen, and the timer quickly counted down from ten. 

They took a total of three pictures, the first prompting them to hold hands, standing sideways to the camera, looking at each other with crooked smiles of amusement, both silently telling each other how stupid and cliche their pose was. Donatello couldn't hold in his chuckles, barking out a laugh and bringing April down with him just as the camera shutter went off. 

April was still giggly when the second prompt flashed across the screen, so when she saw it was a hug, she couldn't help but laugh more. With six seconds left, she let Donatello turn her to the camera, pressing his cheek as close to hers as he could without touching it. She pretended that the warmth of her cheeks was a side effect of her laughter, making herself react as normally as possible. One of her hands grabbed his forearm and the other went up to Donatello’s cheeks, giving the illusion that she was pressing his face against hers.

The third prompt gave her a pause, taking a deep breath when the word kiss flashed across the screen, timer started with barely a moment for the word to settle in their heads. April swallowed so hard she felt like she could swallow her tongue, especially when Donatello’s arms tightened around her waist. She looked at him, her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. 

“May I?” he whispered, watching as April meekly nodded in response, and Donatello couldn’t help but think that April and ‘meekness’ weren’t even in the same world, much less photo booth in the basement of a mall, but he didn’t exactly hate the look of it on her if he was the one to cause it. 

So as the timer counted down from three, April closed her eyes, trying to keep her face as relaxed as possible, keeping them shut even as Donatello’s lips landed against the apple of her cheek, setting her ablaze. The camera shutter went off, and April slowly opened her eyes, but they quickly widened when Donatello buried his face into her shoulder after his lips parted from her face. 

He mumbled against the fabric of her sweater, not loud enough for April to catch anything other than the feeling of embarrassment rolling off him, far too relatable for April to make light of. Instead, the hand that was still against Donatello’s forearm lightly rubbed and patted him, too light to even disturb the fabric of his sweater. 

After they both had the time to collect themselves, they gathered their things and stepped out of the booth, walking to that station on the side that let them decorate the picture, and April went crazy with it. She drew on their faces, added stars and heart stickers, and filled the empty spaces with random dots of multiple colors. She turned to Donatello, asking him if he wanted to add anything before the timer went off. 

He almost disagreed, but just as April put the pen down, he stepped to the station, grabbed the second pen, and wrote something between the white space between the first and second picture, just before the timer went off and their pictures started printing. 

April kneeled to grab their pictures out of the slot, letting out a small snort at the whole thing. The first and second pictures ended up being blurred with movement, with the second only being slightly better than the first by a small margin. At least their faces could still be seen. The third picture was the clearest, but both their faces were screwed up like they were teenagers experiencing their first kiss, and only one part of that statement was true. April didn’t know her face could look so red on camera. 

In between the first and second picture, in Donatello’s fanciest writing, was DNA. 

She rolled her eyes, not really getting it; leave it to him to put a science reference in something like this. What a nerd. 

She stood, giving Donatello one of the pictures, “We don’t really look like we’ve been dating since high school here.” 

He chuckled, a crooked smile returning to his lips as his eyes softened at the pictures. “No, I suppose we don’t. But we still look pretty good together, don’t we?” While saying so, he didn’t hesitate to take her hand again, giving it a slight squeeze as they headed toward the door. 

The drive back to the dorms took a little less time than the drive to the mall, mostly because traffic was almost nonexistent at that point. They managed to put both plush dolls in the under-seat compartment, giving April the room to wrap her arms around Donatello again, curling against him as best as she could. She couldn’t stop the affection growing in her at that point, and she should be worried about how much she didn’t care that it was spilling over, but she didn’t. 

Donatello insisted on walking her back to her dorm after putting up his moped, even though April was sure he had to rush off to his class event or else he’d be late. And to Donatello, punctuality was close to godliness. Even when she tried to wrestle the plush dolls from his hands so she could make a mad dash, and he could get to his destination–approximately ten minutes earlier than the designated time because he was funny about time–he wouldn't let her. 

He grabbed her hand, surprising her by yanking her Kuromi plush from her, tossing it under his arm and using it for ransom, and pulling her to a stroll. Slowly taking in the atmosphere of the cooling air, cold winds caressing her cheeks and making her move closer to Donatello, which from the looks of it, he didn’t mind at all.

Reluctantly, April found herself enjoying the walk.

They were talking about their remaining plans for the semester when April finally saw her dorm in the distance. 

She raised her eyebrow at him, “Aren’t you gonna be late at this rate?” 

When he looked down at his smartwatch, he grimaced a little bit, and April knew he was, but he still shrugged, “Honestly, I took this into account when we went to the arcade, I don’t mind being late to this.”

“Woah, Mr. Punctual not caring if he’s late? What’s the world coming to?”

His unoccupied hand shot up, index finger up, quickly shifting into lecture mode and April rolled her eyes fondly, “Think of it like this; no one likes being rushed after a date, right?”

“Ah,” she humored, “So, this is you making sure our date gets five stars on yelp, huh?” 

He smirked at her, “I wasn’t initially, but I will now. You know how I feel about data collection, April.” 

She laughed, using her key to let them both in the building. “Lame.”

He placed his hand against his chest dramatically, “Do my services not warrant a five out of five-star rating, fair April? Have my efforts dishonored you so?”

“You started at a solid three out of five, and you’re quickly losing it.”

He pouted and poked the apple of her cheek, the same cheek he’d kissed earlier, “I feel like if you’re smiling that big, my rating should go up rather than down.”

She blushed, pressing a hand against her cheek, adjusting Donatello Two so she didn't drop him. “Questioning the clientele? Two out of three.” 

“Now you’re just being mean.” 

When they’d made it to her dorm, April unlocked the door, seconds away from walking in before she looked at Donatello. She glanced inside, seeing the room was empty, one of the desk lights still on probably because of Sunita, and slowly closed the door. 

“So,” she started slowly, voice soft in a whisper, not wanting to scare or shock him too much, “Since you kissed me on the cheek at the arcade earlier, would you mind if I… you know, returned the favor?”

The gasp Donatello let out was audible, and April almost immediately backtracked; however, his hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it slightly.

He let out a shy breath, “Aren’t… kisses supposed to be shared if the date went well? What with my two out of five ratings and all, I hardly deserve it.” 

She blinked a couple of times, a small, disbelieving smile tasting her lips, “Is that a no then?”

Donatello shook his head, taking a deep breath before leaning down slightly so his face was easier for her to reach, “By all means,”

She tucked Donatello Two under her arm, pressed her hands against actual Donatello’s shoulders, and pulled him down more. Even with Donatello trying to level the playing field for her, she still had to stand on her tippy toes to press her lips against the swells of his cheek. 

When she pulled back, she giggled a bit at the faint lipstick mark she’d left against his face, hand moving to his cheek so she could wipe it away with her thumb, “Oh, sorry ‘bout that.”

April had only slightly swiped at the stain, so when Donatello pulled her hand away, it’d smudged, making it a little less noticeable but still there. 

Donatello was visibly flustered as he stood up straight, heart beating so loud in his ears that he worried he’d actually busted a blood vessel. He felt his body warm at the feel of her lip against his cheek, both reveling in the softness and wishing that she’d aimed slightly lower and a little to the left

He could feel himself internally cringing; he’d done the same thing to April just hours ago and was just fine, but now that she’d done it to him, his treacherous body was behaving in such a manner? 

April worried her bottom lip, shaking the hand that Donatello was still holding to get his attention back to her from whatever planet he’d landed on, “Donnie? You good?”

“Yep! I’m totally alright, don’t worry your pretty head about me,” his voice was pitchy and slightly enamored as an obviously forced laugh bellowed past his lips. He wanted to kick himself, forcing himself to calm down and lower his voice, “Thank you, April, for rewarding me for that fairly mediocre date we just went on.”

April looked at him in confusion and then looked around, wondering if Dale or someone they should be pretending to date each other was around, but she didn’t see anyone. Just two or three equally confused bypassers. “Uh, yeah, sure? You sure you’re alright?” 

“Perfect, peachy, in fact," he breathlessly sighed, maneuvering the Kuromi plush into her arms, “I should be going.” 

The breath April let out was shy of a laugh, “Uh, okay. Don’t be late?”

He rolled his eyes, his usual Donatello bravado slightly showing itself, “The party won’t start until I get there, and whatnot.” 

She waved him off, but he didn’t turn back after he walked away, and yeah, that made sense. He probably didn’t want to run into anyone on his way out. She walked into her room, tossing the plush dolls on her bed, kicking her shoes off messily before throwing herself on her bed. From her prone state, she struggled to reach over and put her dying phone on charge, laying in absolute silence before rolling over as the day’s events washed over her. 

April turned over to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling before glancing over at Donatello Two, Kuromi having fallen off the side of the bed when she plopped down, pulling the medium-sized, kappa plush doll to her chest and squeezing it. She pulled her phone from the charger, biting her lip slightly as she unlocked it, thumbs hovering the keyboard before quickly typing out the message, sending it, and throwing her phone back on charge, not giving herself the chance to second guess. She turned her back to the device, silently screaming into the kappa before heading to grab some clothes for a hopefully head-clearing shower. 

April [5:56] i was kiddin earlier, it was a 10/10 experience.

.oOo.

April was about 95% sure she was about to have two homicide cases on her hands. 

The first one is for her brilliant, scheming, and horribly narrow-minded best friend because as much of a genius as he liked to promote himself, his ideas more times than not fail horribly and take down everyone attached to it. 

The second was, obviously, her now ex-friend from high school, Dale, who didn't know how to catch a clue and took Donatello's challenge as the ultimate go-ahead to flirt with her almost every chance she got. 

She knew Donatello couldn't have known something like this would happen—as much as he analyzes and speculates all kinds of situations, he often overlooks things that don't interest him in the long run, and Dale just wasn't one of those things. However, she could still feel the need to throw him from his dorm's rather narrow window for the complete oversight on his part. The afterglow of their date did very little to lessen the urge as well.

Currently, she was walking out of her class, closely followed by Dale, and quickly heading to one of the vending machines on the first floor of the building. It was their last class, and after finally presenting their presentations, April tried to force the heavy weight of worry about her performance off her shoulders, because what was there left to do? Especially when the fault in her performance wasn't even hers in the first place.

She was sure Dale meant well; thought he was helping her out—even though he'd very recently officially lost the title of a friend didn't mean April was willing to describe his actions as necessarily malicious. But during her part of the presentation, he'd randomly complimented her on it, telling her what a good job she'd done on her research and how well put-together her PowerPoint was. And that was all well and good if he'd waited until afterward. Not to mention, the compliments seemed to be laid on super thick and reminded her of she-who-should-not-be-named, and put such a bad taste in her mouth that she stumbled over her words. 

Ms. Bianca got on him about it, scolded him about distracting his teammates, and was nice enough to tell April she would be overlooking that while grading her, and that was the only saving grace during the whole class, maybe even the whole semester in the class. She would definitely be putting in a good word about her, and she hoped the teacher would do the same for her.

“If you want, I wouldn’t mind buying you something from the vending machine, April.”

She groaned, “Dale, it’s five dollars at most, I can do it.” 

She told Donatello not to pick her up for the day. He and Leonardo were getting ready for Michelangelo's arrival even though he'd be staying with Raphael in his apartment just off campus. They would be slowly moving some of their stuff to Raphael's place and packing for the trip they'd make to their father's home in New York while also finishing up with the last of their classes. Leonardo had some hours of work at Hueso’s he wanted to work with his "kendo partner" and Donatello was forced to bed rest because of his instances of overworking himself for his finals.  

April had also told him he was on thin ice in regards to anything related to Dale; she didn’t care how much sleep he’s gotten recently, or what break he’s gotten, she couldn’t risk him saying or doing anything that would encourage any more of Dale’s persistence. That is, at least until the party. Maybe the way too-loud music and overall vibes of the party would make seeing Dale fail horribly more interesting to watch. 

Unfortunately, that did make her more accessible to Dale. 

"Oh," he sighed, quickly shaking off the rejection, optimistic as he attempted to take her hand, "in any case, how about instead of the vending machine, we can stop by that convenience store by the English building? Then I can drop you off at your next class?" 

"No, I don't want to." She snatched her hand away, voice monotone and uninterested. "I'm eating out with some friends later, so I don't wanna get too full." That wasn't a lie. Michelangelo was finally arriving later today, and with the excitement that it'd caused his three older brothers, they had all decided to go out to eat. The invitation was obviously extended to her, and she couldn't say no to dinner with her favorite boys.

They'd made it to the first floor, walking down the hallway that would lead them to the two vending machines. April hoped Dale would have headed for the exit or had a class he had to get to, but he quickly hopped closer to her. Almost like he knew she wanted to ditch him. 

"Is, uh, what's his name gonna be there?" 

She groaned, stopping with a heated glare aimed at the young man, "Do you seriously have to be this insufferable? Are you trying to make me upset?" 

Dale sighed in an almost combative way, making April cross her arms, "I'm not trying to make you upset, April. I just… he's not important to me, I didn't feel the need to learn his name."

"Yeah, well he's important to me, the least you could do is be courteous enough to learn his name, and not be an absolute ass about it." Rolling her eyes, April continued to walk, considering getting her headphones out of her bag and ignoring the young man. 

But if she knew anything about Dale, it was that he was going to try to get his point across.

"April, I'm not trying to argue with you, honest, but there are just limits that I've reached with this whole thing." 

"Learning the name of my boyfriend is one of them?" 

"Trying to be cordial with the guy is one of them," he announced, hands shooting in front of him in frustration, "First off, he's not nice to me at all, and he's super standoffish! How do you expect me to respect that?" 

April glared. He didn't even respect the fact that Donatello was supposedly her boyfriend, which is the bottom of the barrel as far as respect goes. And while Donatello was a little hard to talk to on some occasions, Dale hadn’t initially treated Donatello with any cordialness, much less after being announced as her boyfriend. 

Dale noticed her evil eye, holding his hands up, "Look, I know you like this guy, it's whatever. I don't really care about that, but I'm just telling you, he's no good for you." 

"And who are you to tell me that?" 

"Someone with eyes? I know you noticed the way that techy girl was all over him the other day. It's like you weren't even there, and it was super rude of him."

"Dale." She spun on him so quickly that he actually stumbled on his feet, "Don't talk about things you don't know anything about." 

She felt the twist in her lip as she turned back around and continued to walk. After the classes she'd had that day, the last thing she wanted to be reminded of what her best friend's dumb crush on his classmate. 

Dale placed a hand on her shoulder, quickly snatching it back before she had the chance to remove it, "Listen, April, I'm just trying to have your back here. I just don't think this relationship you have is worth fighting that purple-covered, scary chick for. You deserve someone who's not gonna entertain the affections of someone else." 

April felt her jaw tighten as she turned the corner, trying to ignore Dale but coming across bigger fish. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the purple-haired beauty in question, standing next to a short, glasses-wearing boy who looked too young to actually be in college. She considered going back to her dorm, maybe she'd wait and snack with Sunita instead of waiting it out herself before going to Leonardo and Donatello's dorm to wait for Michelangelo's arrival. Honestly, with how upset she was at that moment, she considered going outside and staring straight at the sun would have been a better alternative to this possible interaction. 

"Oh, speak of the devil," Dale blurted, grabbing the attention of the two before April had the chance to leave.

April cursed her luck. The one day she sent Donatello away, the one day she reassured him that nothing bad would happen that would make her put her foot in her mouth and mess up their wackily put-together, narrowly consistent plans, was the day she could have used him there the most. There had to be something truly malicious working against her at that moment because the chance of all of this being coincident was second to none. 

Kendra's eyes cut to her for a second then back to her phone as if she didn't even recognize April, then her eyes widened and turned to her with a smirk on her face, "O'Neil," she cooed, waving her phone at her, "How nice it is to see you." 

April sighed before making her way to the unoccupied vending machine and taking her wallet out. "Hello, Kendra, I hope you're doing alright." 

Kendra leaned against the other vending machine, completely in the way of her companion and not caring in the slightest, "We missed you at the party the other night. I was looking forward to seeing you." 

April forced a smile, teeth bare making her smile look disingenuous. Maybe that's because it was, "I figured it was a classmate-only kinda thing." 

Kendra put on an exaggerated pout, "Aw, wouldn't Othello have fought for you to be there? He likes having you around, right?"

"I'm sure he does, thanks for asking," she answered drily. None of the four spoke as April examined the vending machine's options, and she was grateful for that. 

Then, Dale coughed into his arm, "So, how was your party?" 

The smirk on Kendra's face was so prominent that April didn't need to look at her to see it, she could hear it in her voice. "Thanks so much for asking, Phil." 

"Oh, it's actually—"

She shushed him, "Shush, I'm talking now. It was super fun. I didn't know Othello was such a riot at parties." 

The other, unknown boy rubbed at his chin in confusion, "Actually, Donatello seemed really distracted at the party. He wasn't doing much but thinking." 

April stared at him, letting out a small "Hm?", at the new information. Donatello was completely fine when he'd dropped her off, and all of his major (to him) classes were all taken care of, so what could he have been distracted by?

Kendra didn't seem to want to know, because she frowned at him, "Don't you have somewhere else to be, Stockboy?" 

He stomped his foot, "How many times do I have to tell you, it's Stockman!" 

"Don't care, didn't ask," she waved her hand at him, "Beat it, kid." 

Despite very clearly looking like he wanted to argue, he huffed, turning tail and walking away. Once out of sight, Kendra turned her eyes back to April, smiling as sweetly as her face would allow. 

"You guys seem pretty happy, have you been together long?" 

"Since high school." 

She cooed, "Sweethearts, cute. Known him since then?" 

"We're childhood best friends actually." 

Kendra rolled her eyes; how cotton candy sweet for them, it almost made her scowl. But she had to keep up the nice front, otherwise, she was sure to come across as being mean. Though, it's not like she came across as anything else. Then again, where would the fun in all this be if she openly acted like a villain?

“You must really trust him. I don’t think I could be brave enough to let my boyfriend of so many years hang out alone with a girl he’s put the moves on.” Kendra pretended to look shocked, her hand covering her blue-tinted smirk, “Oops, I wasn’t supposed to say that.” 

April looked at Kendra from the corner of her eyes, her heart sinking in her stomach for a minute, “And just what do you mean by that?” 

“I’m not saying Othello was all over me yesterday, but anyone looking at us would say he was. I didn’t wanna hurt the poor guy’s feelings, but you know how fragile those brainy boys could be.”

April's jaw tightened. That doesn’t sound like Donatello. That doesn’t sound like him at all. But April didn’t know for sure, because the only people she’d seen him infatuated with were fictional. So if Donatello had feelings for someone, she wouldn’t know if the boy was bold enough to make a move that could possibly ruin his reputation, one like flirting with a girl when he was already in a somewhat public relationship.

Even still, she had a role to play, and that called for being oblivious to Donatello’s affection for Kendra. 

“What do you mean? Donnie would never.” 

Kendra scanned her, taking in April's words and the look on her face, watching as irritation edged its way through her little clueless act. She said nothing else, eyes slowly blinking as she looked at the extra in the conversation. 

While April pretended to be unbothered by Kendra’s accusations, Dale was fuming and basically shaking in his metaphorical boots, and that was the reaction Kendra was going for. 

She wasn't purposefully giving him a reason to start, he was a non-factor in all of this to Kendra, but for whatever reason, he was trying to get in between the pair, and Kendra knew something like that would make for good entertainment. 

And good entertainment Dale was, because he looked at April with a sickeningly determined will, running his mouth about what a bad guy Donatello was. The topic of his monologue–which looked to be more of a soliloquy since neither woman was paying him much mind—did make Kendra question what the tinkering genius did to make Dale hate him that much, but it wasn't like she needed to defend him.

To Kendra, things like reputation and what others said about you didn't hold much weight as long as your actions were resourceful. Donatello's actions certainly spoke louder than whatever smear campaign some rando was trying to paint to the person he was actually dating.

"April," he practically pleaded, "You’re so much better than that jackass, can’t you just–-ugh! Can you, for once, just listen to me!?" 

"No, Dale, I cannot, 'cause you're talking nonsense." She pressed the numbers into the machine, keeping her eyes on her chosen bag of chips as it fell, “Donnie’s not like that, I would appreciate it dearly if you didn’t talk about him like that.” 

Kendra exaggerated a sigh, "Don't get snippy with your friend just cause you're upset Othello isn't that into you anymore—"

"Listen," April finally growled, glaring at both of them as she stood up with her bag of chips, her finger pointing daggers at them. "I don't need either of you telling me what I need to do, or how my boyfriend acts when I’m not in the room. If Donnie has something to tell me, he'd tell me. And what I choose to do with or about my boyfriend is my business, and I’d appreciate it if you both stayed the hell out of it." She specifically looked at Kendra, eyes heated, "And if you had speculations about whatever he was feeling for you, you should take it up with him instead of treating this like some pissing contest that I’ve already won.”

April walked away in a tizzy before turning to the two shocked participants, “And have a little bit of shame! Cheating or not, you’re still talking to that jackass’s girlfriend! Come correct next time.” 

Kendra waited until April was out of sight, not caring that her friend was still frozen next to her at April’s outburst, bursting out in laughter. Her arms wrapped around her stomach as her sides started to hurt. 

“How can you laugh like that,” Dale gasped.

Kendra let out a few more deep chuckles before sighing out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes, “What’re you talking about?”

“April! You’re telling her that her asshole boyfriend is cheating on her, and now you’re making fun of her-–”

“Oh, please don’t be stupid.” She pulled out her phone and walked away without so much of an explanation. She frowned as she heard his sneakers squeak against the tile of the floor. “Don’t follow me, I don’t want people to associate me with you.”

“You can’t just say something like that and walk away,” he scolded, “I don’t get how me telling you that making fun of someone who’s going through something like that isn’t alright makes me stupid.” 

“Because he’s obviously not cheating on her, idiot.” 

He blundered, and while the act was interesting enough because she knew the context, the only thing it did for Kendra further proved that Dale was a huge moron. 

“Although, you showing your ass there at the end was a nice touch. It was fun seeing her flip her lid at something stupid like this.” Kendra chuckled again at the thought. 

“Why’re you doing this? Do you like that dude that much?”

She scoffed, “Not all of us are as desperate as that. I just think it’s fun.” 

Dale frowned, "You're not a good person." 

"Oh please, you aren't that far behind. You're only doing this because you like O'Neil, so you can keep that self-righteous jizz away from me." 

"I'm doing what's best for April." And he’s decided what was best for April was him.

"Keep telling yourself that." She waved her hand at him, "Now go away from me. You're ruining my good mood." 

Dale stopped walking, letting Kendra stroll away. While he didn't agree with her tactics, he had to admit that he could see the perfect means to an end. He didn’t like seeing April upset, but if it took prodding and probing from Kendra to show her just how bad of a match her no-backbone boyfriend was. Maybe taking a couple of pages out of her book could do him some good. 

Besides, people definitely did worse things in the name of love.

He had a lot of things to get together before the party.

.oOo.

Leonardo opened the door with a hop in his step, trying not to rush April through the door as he gathered his things to head out. 

She tried to keep a smile on her face as the rambunctious, socialite went on and on about how excited he was about picking up his baby brother from the shuttle bus. It was so heart-warming to see the brothers excited to see one another; the love they all had for each other was almost tangible. 

It was hard to stay happy, though, even with all the deep breaths she took on her way over. Hell, she’d been so mad that she’d given away the chips she’d bought to some random guy on the way–just a dollar and twenty-five cents out of the window. But she wasn’t going to eat them, the whole situation, now dubbed the Ken-Dale situation, had ruined them. 

Leonardo could tell something was wrong with her, he was perceptive enough to pick up on it when she came through the door, but they had an unspoken ‘If I don’t say anything, don’t mention it’ rule in their brand of friendship, the passive kindness and affection they shared to show solidary, so he didn’t bring it up. On his way out, he’d told her she was welcome to stay as long as she needed; Donatello would be on his way back in the next few minutes. The look he gave her as he left told her that he’d probably want to at least talk about it sooner or later.

She’d sent him away with a wave, shoulders slightly less tense but still very upset. 

She didn’t like the fact she’d worried Leonardo, trying to force herself to calm down so she didn’t bring the other brothers' moods down when Michelangelo got there. She wasn’t good enough at hiding her own feelings, especially not from people she was childhood friends with. But whatever she did, it always came back to that very critical moment where she’d snapped, mouth running before she could even examine if it would work to her and Donatello’s benefit. 

April groaned into her palms. She’d been doing so good; keeping her temper in check, letting most of Kendra’s barbs roll over her like rain on an umbrella, ignoring Dale’s increasingly tasteless advances, and making sure her grades wouldn’t suffer because of Dale’s dumb crush. And in one day, it all went up in smoke. 

She trudged to Donatello’s side of the room, taking off and neatly tucking her shoes on the side of the bed, heading to his closet and absent-mindedly picking out one of his sweaters to put on. She’d picked out a deep purple and gray one with patchwork and stitched designs decorating the front and sleeves. She only acknowledged that it was one of the ones he always wore after she put it on, but she didn’t take it off. 

April looked at herself in the mirror attached to the dresser, looking at her face and how drained the day made her, and her frown deepened, putting her in more of a foul mood. 

She wanted the whole thing to end already. The Dale situation, having to deal with Kendra's know-it-all probing and Donatello's apparent big fat crush on someone who April was now dubbing her personal irritant for as long as her thing with Donatello held out. She wanted the fake dating situation to fade away, and take the too-fond, too-frequent, too-soft feelings she now felt toward her best friend with it. She knew that if she didn’t feel like that the whole situation wouldn’t feel so complicated, and she wouldn’t dread seeing someone Donatello obviously saw as a friend. That’s what she wanted at that moment, so she could properly stand next to her precious best friend, emotionally and physically, without feeling like she would be replaced in a role she didn't belong in the first place. 

A role that she told what was probably the only candidate going for it she’d already won.

She didn't want to think about that though.

When Donatello finally walked into the room with one hand behind his back, April had starfished across his bed, face down, blankets pulled lazily over her as if she was willing the weighted blanket to devour her. 

She didn't even hear him open the door, and didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed when Donatello called her name in confusion. She just turned her head, moving as little as possible. 

"You look drained." He walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge like he was the one being invasive. He slowly peeled the covers off of her, breathlessly chuckling when he realized she had on his favorite sweater, "and also like you're swallowed by my stuff." 

She sighed, rolling over on her back, "Then it's doing its job. Sorry, I raided your closet, I know how you are with your stuff. But I was cold.”

Donatello took her in, shrugging, “I actually don’t mind it. I would have preferred if you asked beforehand, but if you were cold, I guess that’s alright. ”

She smirked, though she knew it didn't reach her eyes, “Even though you’re so selfish.” 

“Scoff, it’s not selfishness, it’s self-preservation. But I don’t mind you, you having it just feels right.”

She didn't have the time to overthink it, because Donatello quickly asked her,

"So, what's wrong?" 

She groaned, "I had a bad day." 

He pulled her up into a sitting position, humming, "Sucks. Would you like to talk about it?"

Considering the suckiness of the day was a combined consequence of the lie they decided together? "No, I'm good." 

"Are you sure? Anything I can do to help, I'll do it." 

April poked the side of her head, "Not unless you can make a gadget that'll go in here and stop those little colorful assholes from running rampant up there." 

He laughed, catching her reference, "Unfortunately, modern science and paywalls have kept me from making such a device." 

She snapped her finger, "Oh rats." 

"I hope this helps though," he said, putting whatever it was behind his back on her lap, "It's no 'emotions regulator device', but I think it'll do the trick for now." 

April looked down at the container, the white chocolate and raspberry bundt cake sitting nice and pretty inside it. She looked up at Donatello, the metaphorical lights returning to her eyes as he passed her a plastic fork. 

He chuckled, "I got it for you as congratulations for finishing up the last of your classes. And please don't worry about repaying the favor, you deserve to be celebrated every so often." 

April smiled softly at the cake, heart finally softening after wallowing in anger this whole time.

"Thanks, Dee. I really needed this." 

Of course, the first actively kind act after the Ken-Dale event was Donatello, and she could feel it break her. She could feel little cracks in her strong act slowly breaking apart. 

April took the plastic fork from him, opened the container, and immediately dug the fork into the soft cake. Savoring the flavor with slow chews, she looked at Donatello from under her eyelashes, noticing him smiling at her as she ate.

She liked him. 

She liked him so much and she couldn't push that feeling down anymore. 

It was the mixture of finally accepting the realization, the anger and disappointment she felt earlier, the relief of comfort from her best friend, and the crushing notion that their current status quo would disappear as soon as they were home in New York that caused the tears to prickle at her eyes. 

The horrified look on her best friend's face made April desperately try to push them down, blinking to keep the tears from accumulating, but they built up faster than she could will them away. 

"Uh, heh," she tried to laugh, voice coming out wet and wobbly as she wiped her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand, panicked as she felt the wetness already travel down her face, glasses pushed up to the top of her forehead. "Look at that, Dee, the cake's so good, it's bringing tears to my eyes. You sure know how to pick 'em." 

The weak, forced laughs she let out quickly turned into a watery gasp, making way for that one sob that did her in, and she couldn't hold back anymore.

She covered as much of her face as she could with one hand, trying to save face as much as possible. 

Donatello didn't hesitate to take her in his arms. 

He maneuvered her in a way that didn't disturb the cake on her lap with her hip pressed against his outer thigh, and the entirety of her upper body pressed against his front as she cried. He knew she'd be embarrassed having cried in front of him, although it's not as if he ever minded. Out of courtesy to her, he pulled the hood of the sweater over her head, taking special care to tuck her curly hair nicely in it before smoothing his hand against it in comfort. 

"This just–! Everything today sucked," she sniveled, hands gripping the back of Donatello's sweater so tightly she feared it'd rip, but not finding it in her to let go. 

"I know, April," he whispered, closing his eyes as he gave her a slight squeeze. “Talk to me.”

She shook her head, hiccuping, “It’s just a lot, Dee.” 

He nodded, coming to a multitude of different conclusions and estimates. He reached over to his nightstand, opened the drawer, and grabbed his pack of tissues, pulling some out.

"Everything's gonna be better soon, though." 

She nodded against his chest, taking deep breaths to calm herself enough that, after a while, her sobs softened to little hitched breaths before stopping altogether. April didn’t look at Donatello as he passed her the tissues he’d taken out, making sure her face was as dry as possible before letting him take her back into his arms. She burrowed herself further in his arm, being a little selfish with the comfort he was giving, not wanting him to let her go. 

Luckily for her, Donatello returned the sentiment, letting himself fall into a warm interlude of silence, taking in nothing but the weight of April in his arms, purple covering her from head to toe, wrapped up and completely overtaken by him.

The both of them nearly jumped out of their skin when the door burst open, and Donatello pulled April closer to keep her from reflexively pulling away from him. 

Michelangelo, a natural life of the party, entered the room loudly with an excited scream in his lungs, an elephant backpack slung over his shoulder like he was a student there, but Donatello knew it was next to empty, save for a sketchbook, some graphite pencils, and other small miscellaneous things. He was immediately followed by Leonardo, who stopped mid-cheer as he took in the situation of the room, eyebrows furrowed as Michelangelo screamed. 

"Hey, Dee! Guess who's in town—who's that?"

Donatello just then remembered that April was completely covered in his sweater, so it was likely neither brother saw her at all. If he played his cards right, he could help April save face if he came up with a good enough story.

He was a horrible liar though, so, "It's April. She's sleeping." 

Michelangelo crossed his arms, "In your arms?"

"We were in the middle of talking, she was super tired, and just passed out," the laugh he inserted there was so dry and unconvincing, he knew April would be kicking and screaming if he wasn't already moving. "Darn, can you even believe this girl?" 

He laid her on the bed, grabbing the bundt cake before it could fall over and spill crumbs over his sheets. He faced April away from his brothers, tucking her under his weighted blanket. 

"She was super tired and needed a place to crash, let's leave her be for a while." He stiffly walked to the door, elbows and knees barely bending as he went. "Come along, dear brothers, let us make haste." 

Michelangelo looked at his brother as he walked straight out the door, not looking back to see if he was being followed. "Alright, Dee," he responded cheerfully, turning back to April, "See ya' later, April. Have a nice nap!"

She waved, a light groan sounding as the duo laughed as they followed their brother. 

.oOo.

"So, what's wrong with April?" 

Donatello stumbled at Leonardo's random question. They were currently walking to the school's library, showing Michelangelo around because he would probably be attending next year, and he wanted to navigate the campus. 

Michelangelo was currently leading them, making sure to stay close enough that his older brothers didn't lose him. 

Donatello knew his smallest brother was just as perceptive as his twin, if not more, but unlike Leonardo, Michelangelo wasn’t one to corner unless he found it absolutely necessary. When the orange-dyed brunette caught up to Donatello in the hallway on their way out, he’d placed his hand on Donatello’s arm, squeezing twice, and basically ‘confirmed his appointment’ with a young Dr. Feelings. It was an open invite, not a necessity. Michelangelo knew that Donatello couldn’t be forced to spill his guts, and never made it feel like an interrogation.

Never one to follow someone else’s lead so closely, it looked like Leonardo took this specific time to interrogate. 

Donatello considered lying for a moment, but sighed, figuring the partial truth would be better to get across. "She's got a lot going for her right now." 

Leonardo raised his eyebrows in worry, "Is she alright? Does she need us to handle it?" 

Donatello smirked, knowing Leonardo wasn't above taking the low road when it came to protecting and looking out for their best friend, so without saying too much, he knew what his brother was implying. "No, Nardo, that wouldn't help, but I'm sure it'd bring a smile to poor April's heart." And his, admittedly. 

Leonardo smirked, "Well, I'll let her know that that option is still open for her no matter what happens. I'm gonna assume you have a 'fix' for this?" 

He sighed, second-guessing himself for the first time since his confrontation with Dale. Maybe even longer than that. He wondered if maybe he should have started considering more things before making any decisions during this whole thing. "I… am hopeful that the plan I have in motion will have a favorable outcome." 

Leonardo made one of the weird noises he made when he heard or did something he couldn't take as good news. "That's not the normal, uber-confident response my brother would give. What's going on?" 

Donatello side-eyed Leonardo before looking over at Michelangelo. He sighed, talking lowly to Leonardo, "Listen, there's this party happening on the last day of the semester. My plan, if all goes well, will have everything that April is going through taken care of with a satisfying end. I—I don't need any assistance with my plan, but I will need a failsafe if things go too wrong." 

He didn't want to think he'd have to fight anyone, but as much as Leonardo could talk smack, he could also keep Donatello in check if Dale happened to do anything too extreme. The antagonistic attitude, the slight stalking, and the slight attacks on his character were easily overlookable, but after coming face to face with the stress that the persistent pest was causing his precious best friend, he was pushed to the edge. 

And while Donatello knew fights on campus weren't good on his record or public image, he was starting to feel like he'd given Dale too many chances. Maybe he should have challenged him to a fight in the first place.

Leonardo chuckled, knowing that look on Donatello’s face, wondering just what happened to cause his hidden snake of a brother to rear his ugly head. “Alright, hermano, should we bring Miquel and Raph with us?" 

Thinking about the possible worst-case scenario, it probably wouldn’t be too wise to have his brothers there, knowing their habits of getting into trouble whenever the four of them were in the same room, but couldn’t resist the temptation of having his brothers be his eyes and ears at necessary moments. 

So with a truly diabolical smirk, he said, "The more the merrier I always say." 

Chapter Text

.oOo.

Donatello tried not to stare too much at April as she did her face routine.

She sat with her legs crisscrossed on his bed, which was stripped of his usual bed coverings, and replaced with the school standard one, with a heart-shaped mirror as she continued to ‘prepare herself for the party. Which in reality only meant she would properly moisturize her face, find a new and funky lipstick to color her lips–-this time a deep, purple-tinted mahogany–-and maybe highlight her cheekbones if she was feeling fun. And she wasn’t, so it wasn’t like she was doing anything extreme. 

Yet Donatello couldn’t take his eyes off of her for some reason. Maybe it had something to do with her hair because it was styled differently than usual; her hair was braided to the top of her head, all of her full, curly hair pulled to the back by a headband–one she probably got from Sunita when she bid her farewell for the holiday, she’d braided her hair on the sides, one on each side, letting them frame her face with yellow and purple beads that perfectly matched her outfit. It wasn’t uncommon for April to experiment with her hair, and it was never a big deal when she did, but now, Donatello felt there should have been a better situation for her to do up her hair than some college party.

He was once again regretting making that damned bet. 

“Are you sure the boys are gonna be okay at this party,” April asked. She examined herself in the mirror before nodding, contemplating then opening her make-up bag, and pulling out some blush. “It’s been a while since we were all together, I wouldn't want them to get too rowdy.” 

Donatello shrugged, “They’ll be alright.” He’d already filled them in as best as he could about his plans for the whole party situation, omitting the quite unique situation he and April found themselves in. While Donatello would never make his brothers pick up any slack on his part, they knew what roles they needed to play, and were very willing to play them. He didn’t dissuade them from having fun in their own right, sure, but they wouldn’t do anything reckless for the sake of the mission. 

April, not knowing anything about Donatello’s backup plan, chuckled, placing all her bottles back into her small bag, “Man, I can’t wait for this night to be done. I’ll finally have the space to breathe a little bit after all this is over.” 

Donatello raised an eyebrow, a battleship-sized sour feeling sinking in his stomach for reasons unknown. “I bet it’ll be nice not having to worry about whatever shenanigans little Mr. No David has to offer you.” 

She giggled and turned to him with a small smile, and Donatello wasn’t sure if it was because the sight of her crying had imprinted itself on the frontal lobe of his mind for the past few days, but the glimpse of her happiness and contentment was strong enough that it felt contagious. 

Her smile quickly turned into a teasing smirk, “It’ll actually make my next year here so much better, but it’s unfortunate for you since you won’t get to play the jealous boyfriend act you so desperately love.” 

“Yes, April, I am absolutely cursing the skies as we speak, he says sarcastically .” He smiled as she giggled despite the awful taste suddenly developing in his mouth. The notion of their situation ending admittedly hadn’t crossed his mind at all, which considering he’d made a habit of perfectly planning out even the most improbable outcomes since he was six, was questionable. With his track record, he should have foreseen and planned out at least thirteen different plans for how their–– situation could end without them having to take that " necessary break " most people would take after a breakup. Hell, he couldn't even think up any course of action that would lead to them having to have that pause in their relationship at all. 

Even as he racked his mind at that moment, he couldn’t imagine himself not being with April like this now that the gateway was opened. The idea of them stopping being whatever they were at that moment wasn't a factor to him at all. But, with the way April was talking and insinuating an end to 'all of it, Donatello could see as clear as day that she had. 

He didn't have much time to think about it, because just then, Michelangelo and Leonardo burst through the door, already yelling excitedly about ‘Mikey’s first college party’ and Donatello couldn’t help but frown that this was the thing interrupting his thoughts. April hopped off the bed, letting Michelangelo wrap her in a huge hug.

“April!” Michelangelo bellowed, “It’s been forever, I missed you!” 

Donatello would argue not enough time had gone by to warrant the reaction, they'd all just seen each other, going to dinner together and even stopping by the supermall the day after. But, out of all of his brothers, Michelangelo was the most sentimental, and pair that with the fact the four eldest of the group left him in New York for a semester, it wasn't a big crime. 

She giggled, patting his thick, colored locs fondly, “I missed you too, little buddy. I hope you manage to have fun tonight.” 

Leonardo put his hands on the smaller two’s shoulders, including himself in the hug, “I'm sure it'll be a night we all can remember," his eyes cut to Donatello with a sly smirk on his face, “right, Donnie?" 

Michelangelo followed his brother’s lead, “Right, Donnie?” he sang, his smirk so identical to Leonardo's that Donatello considered conceding the appointed role of 'twin' to him. 

Donatello rolled his eyes but didn't say anything, huffing as his brothers continued to eyeball him as if they had dirt on him that they were waiting to pull up. 

April looked between the three, "You guys are definitely up to something, and I'm so offended y'all left me out of it." 

"What? No, never," Leonardo released April and Michelangelo from the hug and laughed, not managing to sound genuine or convincing.

Donatello sighed into his hand, forgetting that his brothers never quite developed the 'keeping secrets' gene that their father seemed to hold with an iron grip.

It also didn't help when Michelangelo pulled away from the hug and placed his hand on April's shoulder, saying, "We just want to make sure you have as much fun as possible, April. Especially when you have some weirdo breathing down your neck." 

As touched as she was by the sentiment, she turned to Donatello with a blank look on her face. "So, you told them." 

"Not everything in detail, no." He cleared up, waving his hand as he stood and cautiously walked over. "But I can tell you the details of that on our way there, April. I assume Raph's waiting for us in his car?" 

"He sure is, Donothan," Leonardo jokingly sent him finger guns. 

April rolled her eyes, "And I'm assuming Raph knows about this too." 

Leonardo nodded, "You would assume correct, of course." 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You guys aren't gonna make a scene, right? Promise me y'all won't make a scene." 

"When have we ever?" Michelangelo scoffed, indifferently waving his hand with a wide smile.

"Like separately or all together? I have the receipts." 

"Hey, hey, receipts schceipts, none of that matters," Leonardo cooed, gently pushing April's phone down so she'd put it away. "How 'bout we focus on the most important thing tonight, and that's having fun at a party." 

April's eyes cut to Donatello before looking back at the starry-eyed socialite, "And apparently also scaring the piss out of some guy in my honor?" 

He patted her shoulders, "Which is also having fun at a party. Let's go!" 

As Leonardo walked out the door, Michelangelo gave April's shoulder another squeeze just as Donatello stood next to her. "Don't worry, April, we'll make sure tonight goes as smoothly as planned. You have my word." 

April pinched her lips together. For as long as she'd known the Hamato brothers, things never went according to plan, no matter how well planned out things were or how many contingencies they had in case things went sour. Although things tended to work out for the best in the end, April still couldn't confidently say that the night would end without incident. However, she couldn't say she wasn't hopeful for the best. 

So, she huffed a sigh, patting Michelangelo's hand on her shoulder and giving him a soft smile. "Okay, Mikey, I trust that you will." 

Donatello waited until Michelangelo ran out of the room after Leonardo, leaning down in a feigned whisper, "I'm the one with the plan, so technically, you should be putting your trust and faith in me." 

She glared weakly at him, pressing an index finger against his chest, poking lightly as she lamented, "Well, maybe I would have more faith in the master planner if he didn't insist on making plans without me." 

She raised an eyebrow when he seemed shocked into stillness by the action. Deciding it was probably because of her words, not having much else to blame it on, she grabbed his wrist to hopefully show she meant no ill will. She gently pulled him through the door and softened her tone just in case, "How much do the boys know, anyways?" 

Donatello licked his lips, clearing his throat. "They only really know that there's someone who's trying desperately to get you to date them. I spared the details of how horrible this whole experience has been for you but did point out that it was stressing you out, and they kind of pieced together that it was bad enough that I had to step in and do something. As for anything else about the issue, they know nothing." 

She was a bit annoyed, and almost upsettingly so. She knew realistically that there was no real merit in telling the three brothers about their fake dating status since they'd help regardless because they were her friends and they loved her. They didn't have to pull the 'because she's my girlfriend' card because she'd been (just about) their best friend since they were children. Helping her just came with the territory. But it just didn't sit right with her that he seemed to tell everyone else about their fake relationship except the people closest to him. April guessed that it probably meant Donatello didn't want his brothers to see their relationship as anything other than platonic and was hinting at that by not telling them. 

Which meant she wouldn't be able to hold his hand or cling to Donatello as they had with others if his brothers were present. She’d have to remember to try her best to make their relationship platonic whenever the three were around. 

"Oh," he added absent-mindedly, "I might have also name-dropped Dale during the whole spill, so they know his name." 

April was surprised her eyes didn't roll out of her head with how quickly she turned to look at him, "Raph knows about Dale?" 

He looked at her curiously. "Along with the rest of us, yes." 

She shook her head, "No, I mean—he knows about him still pursuing me?"

"Yes? So do we all?" He folded his arms, hip popping out with a little attitude as he leaned forward, "Color me confused, April." 

The laugh she let out was more of a disbelieving scoff. They stepped into the elevator that would take them to the lobby, and April leaned against the wall as they went down. 

"Well," she began, "While I wouldn't say Raph and Dale have a history or anything, Raph has had a talk with Dale on how persistence can border on harassment. He might have also mentioned getting himself involved if someone didn’t learn to take a hint." 

He raised an eyebrow in interest, the edge of his lips tweaking up into a smirk. "When did he do this?" 

"Around prom? He was really frequent with his promposal–yes, plural–and after I complained to Raph about it, he stepped in." 

So Raphael had already known and stepped in on this particular issue before him?  

He hadn't known about it until they'd started their agreement. He knew the issue hadn’t originated in college, anyone with a brain could say that, but he didn’t know that, out of everyone she’d told about it, Raphael was the first person she’d trusted to find a fix for it. 

How come she didn't tell him about it back then? Maybe this whole issue could have been resolved so much sooner if she had. Donatello shook his head and tried not to take it to heart; this wasn’t a slight at his performance as her best friend, nor was it a dig at his competence as her confidant. He knew that but the thoughts of ‘why not me?’ spiraled around his brain no matter how quickly he tried to shoot it down. 

But still, he couldn't deny that was a fascinating tidbit to have considering all the possibilities of the night. 

He rubbed his chin with a wicked smile, "Inquisitive chuckle, what excellent development we have here. I foresee a slight change in plans that will be very beneficial for all of us." 

"Are you gonna cheat in a bet that you set up?" 

He looked up as the numbers changed on the elevator, "I would never; I may have set the Fresh Prince of No-Hair up, painfully so and if I were pettier, I'd pat myself on the back about it. And after pulling him into a false sense of comfort, I do plan to pull the rug from under him in the most mindlessly distressing way possible, but to cheat while doing so?" The tips of his fingers pressing together and pointing his steepled hands at her, "I am a man of a clean statute, dear friend, and my honor is oh so important to me." 

His tone was dry, not in a joking kind of way, but in an 'I expect you to believe me' kind of way.

"I've seen you cheat at Uno. For fewer stakes than this actually." 

"Allegedly. And also, even if I did cheat––which I definitely did not and you also cannot prove otherwise—remote privileges for a week is nothing to scratch at, my dear April." 

April dismissed the notion with a fond shake of her head and a small laugh, walking out of the elevator once they reached the lobby. "Alright, whatever you say, Mr. Morally Correct." 

"Well, I wouldn't say all that." He mumbled to himself at her sarcasm, following her lead outside. He walked behind her as she led him to the parking lot, looking for Raphael's truck and any sign of the Baja blast duo. Donatello's eyes kept falling on her hands, which were swinging slightly at her side with each step, his own hands flexing as he mentally prepared himself to grab her hand. He stopped himself, mind spiraling to find a time previously when he had to mentally prepare himself to hold her hand. 

He nervously took her hand in his, noticing the hesitation she had as she closed her hand around his.

It didn’t take long for them to find Raphael's truck, which had beeped at them when they were a couple of feet away, and April waved to them. With the hand that was in his. Although she wasn't mean about taking her hand from his, Donatello felt like she'd ripped it from his hand.

Even with the slightly tinted windows, Donatello knew that Leonardo managed to snag the front seat from Michelangelo because no way would Rapheal honk his horn with them so close to the car. 

His suspicions were confirmed when the passenger side window rolled down, and Leonardo all but threw his upper body out the window despite Rapheal yelling at him. “Come on, hermano, let’s get this show on the road!” 

The backdoor opened for them, and Michelangelo smiled as he scooted over for the two of them to get in, “Yeah, the party won’t start until the Mad Dogz get there.” 

April giggled as she got in, scooting a little closer to Michelangelo than Donatello when he fell in after her. “Are we still calling ourselves that?”

Raphael’s excited confirmation was almost drowned out by Leonardo’s quick denial and quick rant about how they deserved a name that captured the essence of their amazement. Donatello wasted no time telling him to shut it because they’d been calling themselves that since they were teens and there was no way anyone would vote to change it now, not that he listened.

“Alright!” Raphael bellowed, beginning to pull out of the parking lot, “Onwards we go.” 

When Raphael managed to find the place–-a whopping forty-seven-minute drive alone-–the GSP called they'd made it to their destination, and Donatello looked at the building with disdain. 

"Ugh, is this a house party?" 

Leonardo looked back from the front seat, "Have you been to enough parties to be a party snob?" 

Michelangelo poked at his brainiac brother, "That's something you can become?" 

"Scoff, I'm sure it's not, and I definitely haven’t become one," he folded his arms, slouching against the seat and April's shoulder, "but when you get invited to a college party, a simple 'house party' isn't what I had in mind. I was thinking of something a little more elaborate like a frat house, or even a motel." 

April smirked at him, "You think a bunch of college students would have the money to rent out a motel?"

"If they banded together, I don't see why not. If not, how would the students in all those movies and musicals have the funds to do so? Alcohol isn't cheap, people." 

Raphael laughed as he parked, luckily finding somewhere close enough to the house that it wouldn't be a long walk, "So, you can tell all those high school musicals aren't the same as real life, but the magic of college parties was still there?" 

Leonardo laughed, getting out of the car before everyone else, "I can't believe out of everything, Donnie's the most disillusioned about college parties and not the high school graduating senior." 

"I like to keep my expectations low," Michelangelo bragged as if it was something to be proud of, and as if it wasn't an undeniably false statement. “It’s like I always say, stay unassuming.” 

“You’ve never said that before,” Raphael stated, getting out of the car. 

“There’s a lot of things I’d lie about, but I can’t roll with that one, little brother,” Donatello called after grabbing April’s hand to assist her out of the car.  

Michelangelo huffed at the betrayal and mumbled to himself, “See if I make my neighborhood famous risotto for either of you again.” 

It didn't take long for them to get to the house. Despite word traveling faster than the flu about parties, it didn't look too crowded or too full, and Donatello was thankful for that. He wasn’t averse to going to parties, but the idea of having to nuzzle through the bodies of people in a place that was supposed to be a haven from the public eye made his skin crawl. House parties were easily the most make-or-breakable thing for Donatello, depending on the size of the party and house, it could quickly turn into a disaster of human mass and fire hazard, and he wasn't fond of either. 

Donatello could admit it was a little hopeful to think that any party Dale was personally invited to would be a party everyone and their mothers were trying to get in. As bad as his opinion of Dale was, he had too much faith that the social worm would crawl his way into any popular friend groups. This was the only instance where he was glad he was wrong.

Leonardo and Michelangelo led the group as they walked to the baby blue, two-story house, greeting everyone they made eye contact with, managing to match energy despite the difference in sobriety. Raphael walked in the middle, nodding in acknowledgment, but still giving that 'I'm in charge' energy he seemed to carry so well that made the other partygoers wonder if he was an authority figure. Donatello and April walked in the back of the group, and Donatello took that time outside of his brother's eyes to grab April's hand in his, letting her take the lead in interlocking their fingers. 

He wouldn't say it out loud, but the fact that she took the initiative for it calmed his growing nerves.

Thinking that the party scene would be a little much for him, April pressed the side of her head against his shoulder as a stand-in hug, hoping the contact would comfort him. It had a contradictory effect, making butterflies erupt in his chest and his blood boil, but also making him want to shag against her and relax.

When they walked up the porch stairs, Leonardo and Michelangelo looked back and gave him a thumbs up before heading in, nodding to the few people lounging outside the door. Raphael turned and patted them both on the shoulders, saying a small word of encouragement before following the two, wanting to keep a close—but not too close—eye on the energetic youngest of the group. He noticed the closeness between the two but didn’t bring it up. He noticed the antsy look in April's eyes at being seen by him and wished to calm her anxieties a bit by staying quiet. Anything she needed or wanted to say about the situation, he'd hear her out.

"Well, here we go," April tried to sound cheerful, giving Donatello a smile. "Let's do this." 

He waved his open hand at the door, "After you, O'Neil. You are the lady of the hour after all." 

She rolled her eyes, tugging him towards the door with her, “Naw, we’re in this together, Point Dexter, when I go, you follow.” 

She opened the door, and Donatello huffed out a laugh that was completely covered by the music pouring out. “As you wish.” 

.oOo.

The loud music being heard from outside distracted the two from the fact that there weren't a lot of people on the inside. It wasn't empty, but it wasn't particularly full. There were enough people there to justify calling it a party, but there weren't so many that Donatello worried too much about having to shove past people to get to a working bathroom if need be. Then again, he wondered if maybe they were just part of the early crowd despite being there a whopping two hours after the party started and if it would get more hectic later on. Not to mention they were only at the first-floor entrance. Who knows what lies farther in the house? 

The two made their way to the kitchen, which most of the people who noticed they were empty-handed had directed them to. April laughed at Donatello’s scoff at it, shushing him when he complained that the first thing people commented on was their lack of drinks. 

She smirked, "And what else were they supposed to be noticing, Donnie?" 

"I don't know," he said, returning the smirk, "Maybe how nice you look on my arm." 

"Hey," she chuckled, shoving him jokingly, "You're the one accompanying me. I'm the main event."

He scoffed, but he didn't think he could honestly or jokingly deny that. 

Although, when he pointed out how worried Raphael must have gotten when Michelangelo walked in first, April nodded before commenting on how overworked the muscly sweetheart was going to be by the end of the night. 

Donatello wasn’t sure how to tell her she didn’t even know half of it. 

It was almost inevitable that Dale was waiting for them when they stepped into the kitchen. He tried to look like he wasn't, though, very poorly hiding the way his eyes shot to the doorway whenever someone moved close to it. He stood at the edge of a group Leonardo had included himself into, talking miles a minute at some goth girl who looked somewhat endeared by him–an unexpected side effect of knowing the young man. 

When his eyes finally 'fell' on the duo, Donatello expected him to glare at him while making googly eyes at April, but to his surprise, he just smiled at them both.  

He made his way over to the two, patting Donatello's shoulder almost too roughly, but not enough to be seen as a threat. "Hey!" He shouted over the music, "I'm so glad you two could make it!" 

Donatello hummed, shrugging his hand off his shoulder, disdain painting on his face and quickly setting, voice almost too low to be picked up. "Yeah, sure." 

April, ever the nicer communicator between the two, gave Dale an award-winning yet fake smile, "Well, I appreciate the warm welcome." 

"And you look amazing," Dale said, looking over at Donatello before sighing, "Isn't she just the prettiest thing you've ever seen?" 

And that felt so gross coming from him. After months of being antagonized and being treated like a villain, Dale suddenly acting buddy-buddy to him by trying to bait him into complimenting his own girlfriend felt underhanded, almost like he was trying to trip him up.  

Donatello resisted the urge to wrap an arm around April's shoulder as a show of status; he wanted to at least look like he was giving Dale a fair chance. 

"Yes, she does look quite beautiful." 

"April, did you want something to drink?" Dale asked, completely disregarding Donatello's statement, not knowing April's hand tightened around his in pleased embarrassment because of it.

She eyed the lukewarm beers sitting on the table, all brands she either didn't know of or didn't like, but before she could decline anything, Dale quickly added:

"There are more in the fridge. And waters. I could get you something if you'd like–?"

"Oh, not necessary, I wanna see what you have anyways." She turned to Donatello, "Do you want anything?" 

"No thanks, I drank on our way here," he poked his head jokingly, delighting in the smirk making its way to her face, "I'm actually feeling the buzz as we speak." 

She elbowed him, "I meant as in water, you dork."

"Ah, but of course. I'll need something to help fight away the morning's hangover." 

She rolled her eyes, squeezing his hand before heading to the refrigerator. 

Not even waiting until April had walked away completely, Dale leered at him, dropping the buddy-buddy routine no one was buying. "Does my time start now?" 

Donatello raised an eyebrow. Did he really have to wait until April walked away to ask him that? Did he think Donatello would make a bet involving her behind her back and not tell her about it? Also, did he offer to get April a drink as a way to make her walk away from them? Looks like Dale was a touch more manipulative than Donatello had thought.

Donatello adjusted his sleeve, setting a timer on his smartwatch. "As of now, at 9:48 pm, your time to try to woo my girlfriend April has started. You have until 10:50 pm to succeed." 

Dale knitted the little eyebrows he had, "You're adding on minutes? You must really want to lose." 

Even with all the time in the world, Donatello failed to see how Dale could go about convincing April he was worth a penny of her time; two minutes weren't going to do him any favors. "I like rounding numbers." He stated, leaving it at that. He looked over to the refrigerator, seeing April was stopped by Leonardo to talk with the group excitedly about something, probably something movie related by the spark of competitiveness on her face. 

Donatello couldn’t take his eyes off her, scanning the way her eyes squinted when she smiled, or how her nose scrunched up when she snorted at whatever half-baked response the other person, or how her lips shaped around certain words, bringing life to the room when she broke out in laughter. All of a sudden, he couldn’t believe how mesmerizing his best friend was.

“Shall we go over there?” Dale asked, voice soft after marveling at April same as Donatello. 

“You’re a bold man--” not the b-word he wanted to use, really, “--inviting me over with you so you can flirt with my girlfriend?” 

Dale shrugged, “If you were the jealous type, you shouldn’t have said you wouldn’t leave her alone with me.” 

Donatello admittedly was a bit of the jealous type, but not over something irrational as someone finding his partner attractive. That was a given, Donatello just had good taste.

“Besides,” Dale said, looking back at him with a devious stare that put Donatello on the defensive, “I want to show you how much better at it than you I am.” 

Donatello groaned. This was going to be one long night. 

.oOo.

April O’Neil was a headstrong, set-in-her-way kind of girl. Whenever she had an opinion on something, she almost never changed her views on it, willing to fight anyone to the death if they challenged her. Which was why she couldn’t ever see herself calling Dale her friend after the events of the end of the semester. He’d worked her last nerves this last semester, he was super rude to someone precious to her that she’d introduced as her significant other, and he’d even potentially messed her up on her project. He was out of good graces with her.

However, April could also admit that she had a soft spot for things that were particularly pitiful and in need of help. Which, unfortunately, seemed to include Dale even now. 

Because this was downright sad. 

Dale tried to put on a suave, almost irresistible persona which is something that only works if the other person was interested, and April was not. So every time he patted himself on the back, or came at her with a small comment of ‘try not to swoon over me too much, dear’ , it was cringy at best and delusional at worst. The overly familiar pet names and the need to bring Donatello into his flirty comments were enough to make her want to chug every drink that made its way to her hands. 

There were multiple times she’s had to elbow Donatello and sometimes Leonardo in the stomach just to save the guy some face. 

On the other hand, Donatello had no intentions of pulling punches about the young man’s failed advances because Dale seemed very determined to make himself a problem for Donatello as soon as April insinuated he was her significant other, and Donatello never let go of a grudge. Although Dale’s awful behavior started from nowhere—petty jealousy was a really ridiculous reason to start a vendetta against someone, after all—Donatello could see reason if he’d be particularly upset with him tonight.

Donatello knew the young man wasn't stupid; the years of hopeless pinning to a young woman who clearly didn't want him wasn't because he was slow on the intake, he was just the worse kind of persistent. Donatello knew he had some suspicions after watching Leonardo insert himself in a lot of their conversations; though the twins weren’t identical, they did have enough similarities that someone could tell they were related. 

Michelangelo had also stopped by once, running into the kitchen and leading April to the dancing area when a particularly poppy song came on, sometimes cutting off Dale's low bar pick-up line accidentally. 

While Donatello’s "brother switcheroo" plan wasn't one of the elaborate plans he’d usually go for, it was good enough to get the trick done. 

Dale knowing Donatello had more people involved than just the three of them meant he was going to be whinier about it when he eventually lost. But to be fair, it wasn't like he had the room to be mad at Donatello for utilizing his and April's bond with his brothers when he'd basically done the same with his and April's classmates. And it wasn't like Donatello hadn't already told him he wouldn’t be leaving him alone with April, he just had more than himself to make sure that didn’t happen. 

He still tried to force the two apart regardless of the fact, like a 'if you're going to break the rules, so will I' retaliation, and that was enough to irk him that even minor offenses that had nothing to do with him made Donatello feel like they were a personal attack.

Every lame pickup line, every subtle touch to April, anytime he got a petty laugh out of the girl, Donatello could feel irritation pick at the edge of his mind. So excuse him if he couldn’t spare an ounce of sympathy for the piteous man. 

They finally got a moment away from him and were currently in the small corridor that led deeper into the house, giving them an almost full view of the living room. They watched from the sidelines as the party grew, poking fun at the new addition’s expressions as they walked in, making up stories about them as they ranked their sobriety as well. It wasn’t long before Dale entered their frame of sight, looking very confused when he didn’t see them.

Donatello could tell from the twist of his face that he assumed Donatello went back on his word and left, and he would have felt offended if he actually cared about his opinion. 

Also, they were only twenty minutes into the challenge. If Donatello was going to go back on it, they wouldn’t have wasted even ten minutes being around him.

Donatello leaned down to whisper closer to April's ear, grabbing the empty glass wine cooler from her to throw away later and passing her the one he'd been nursing, "I think you're being a little too nice to the guy." He stated. 

April raised an eyebrow at him as she took a few sips of her new bottle, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Listen, Donnie," she sighed, "as much trouble as Dale has given me, I don't wanna humiliate him, he's doing a good enough job of that on his own, y'know?" 

He nodded, watching Dale repeatedly apologize to some girl for spilling his drink on her. In his defense, people who definitely pre-gamed a little too hard had come in and bumped into him, and he should apologize for the unfortunate event, of course, but it looked really pitiful when he did it. 

"Yes, it is rather sad." 

"Exactly, and we were friends up until recently, so—I don't know, I kinda just want this night to end with as little collateral as possible." 

Donatello squinted at her, "Friends?"

"Uh, yeah, in high school?" 

He just continued to look at her, his face scrunched in disbelief until she finally let out a groan. 

"Look, he's familiar, okay? As much of an asshole as he is, I gotta give him leeway for that." 

Donatello shook his head because, no, she really didn't, but he wouldn't be able to tell her that. She would never admit it, but April was loyal to a fault, sometimes, and if she had a soft spot for someone, as little as that spot may be, it would be really hard to get rid of. It's like trying to scoop rot out of an apple; better to just throw the whole thing away and get a new one. 

Maybe that explained Donatello's sudden spike in dislike towards the 'ex-high-school-friend'. April saw herself as a harbinger of justice and truth, but she was also a believer in second chances–and thirds, and fourths, and sometimes fifths if she was endeared enough. So Donatello had to be the hardass of the pair, so his best friend didn't go around with that big heart of hers painted on her sleeve.

Not to say April couldn't protect herself, but with Donatello by her side, she wouldn't have to. 

Dale’s eyes finally caught them, and he took a deep breath before trying to put on a suave smirk and making his way over. "Woah, you guys kinda disappeared on me there, haha.” 

April shrugged, “We wanted a little alone time, isn’t that right, Dee?” 

“Of course, whatever m’lady wants, she gets.” 

Dale forced an upward turn of his lips, “Cool. It’s so nice you’re bound by duty, dude. I would like to see more of that.” 

Translation: “Keep your part of the deal.”

“I’m sure,” Donatello hummed, “April takes top priority though. I’d say you know how that goes, but sadly…”

April elbowed him again, this time with a little kick to it. Oops, too strong there. On both their parts. 

Luckily for him, Raphael walked out of one of the doors in the corridor, the flushing sound behind him indicating the room as the bathroom. When Dale saw Raphael, his eyes widened and he immediately looked down at his empty cup, which gave Donatello the exact reaction he was hoping for. Alternatively, when April saw Raphael, she stepped away from Donatello, not a big enough gap to be noticeable, but big enough that their shoulders weren’t touching, which wasn’t a reaction he was even expecting.

“Oh, hey guys,” he chipped, sending the two a warm smile before his eyes settled on Dale. “Oh, hello again, uh, guy.” 

Dale’s head shot up to look up at Raphael, eyes blown open as if he witnessed the crime of the century, “Oh! You remember me,” he breathed out, an awkward chuckle passing his lips. 

“‘Course I do, I never forget a face,” he roughly patted Dale’s shoulder, making him stumble forward and side-eye April as he tried to right himself. "I hope you’ve been treating April alright.” 

“Yes, sir! I mean, of course, sir—you know me. Always thinking about April—but an appropriate amount! Respectfully.” 

Oh, this was embarrassing to watch. 

Donatello was living for it. 

April once again proved to know him a bit too well, because she elbowed him again, though not as hard as the other time. 

"That's good to know," Raphael said, his smile not as bright as it was when directed at the duo. "So, where are you lot headed? Think I'll tag along." 

"We're just heading to the kitchen," Dale hurried, swinging his arms like an old 90's cartoon, "We were just gonna head to the kitchen to get some more drinks, right April?" 

April gestured to her half empty and shrugged before turning to Donatello. "I guess that's fine. Do you need another water or something?" 

"Unfortunately, I'll decline. I was thinking about going to find Mikey and, as the kids these days say, chatting it up with him." He had some stuff he wanted to talk to his emotional support little brother about. 

"First of all, never say that to me again, and second of all, do you know where Mikey is?" 

Dale looked between them, "Who's Mikey?" 

"If you're looking for the little guy, he was heading to the basement when I last saw him," Raphael said with a shrug, trying to look very indifferent about it and failing. 

Donatello placed his hand on his back, chuckling as he offered comfort to his overprotective elder brother. "I'll go check on him, and give him your regards." 

Raphael huffed out a smile, "Thanks, little brother." 

The look on Dale's face told Donatello that he didn't know their relations, but he shrugged it off. 

Donatello reached for April's hand to squeeze as a goodbye, but she turned it into a handshake and stepped away before he had time to squeeze his hand around hers to return it. 

"Okay, see you later, Dee. Hopefully, you'll be able to find me in the crowd later." She winked at him, and for a moment, it looked like nothing was out of the ordinary. 

But Donatello felt wrong. She'd essentially rejected his touch, right? Not outright rejected, but redirected, and that had never happened before. 

"Uh, yeah." He said with a daze, his sensitivity to rejection making his mind spiral as the three turned and walked away. 

.oOo.

April [22:12] Using raph as dale repellent is the best and worse thing uve ever come up with u rude genius

Donatello sent back a thumbs-up as he got to the bottom of the stairs, the music wasn’t as loud as it was upstairs, probably because more people were sitting and talking with one another. The lights were brighter, and it had more of a playroom vibe than the party central that was the first floor.

He looked around and saw a group of people surrounding a pool table over by the back wall. He noticed Michelangelo sitting in a chair next to some tall, rough-looking guy with tattoos and scars. He raised an eyebrow as his little brother cheered as the man bounced the ball on the table and trick-shot it into a cup, turning to high-five him, and Donatello wondered how many intimidating people his brother was going to befriend. 

Donatello sighed as he plopped in the empty next to Michelangelo, “You know, Raph’ll throw a fit if he catches you drinking.” 

Michelangelo rolled his eyes, pointing his thumb at the man at the table, “Don’t worry, Leatherhead won’t let me get any of the stuff.” 

“Leatherhead?”

“Just a nickname, what’s good, Dee?”

Donatello tilted his head, peering at him, “I can’t just want to check up on you at your first college party?” 

“That’s more of a Raph thing. Besides,” Michelangelo fully turned in his seat, crossing his legs and putting his elbow on his knees, leaning into Donatello and eyeing him with a smug spark on his face, “I’d think you wanted to spend the night with April.” 

Donatello felt himself become flustered, but he tried to push it down, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he stayed quiet as the lively ball of energy continued to stare. “Completely unrelated though, I did have some things I wanted to get off my chest. Maybe or maybe not pertaining to a certain best friend of ours.” 

Michelangelo scooted his seat closer, and if the music wasn’t playing in the background, Donatello was sure he’d be able to hear the awful scratch of the metal legs against the concrete floor. 

Knowing that he had his brother’s full attention despite the almost deafening sound of rowdy college students and the occasional overexcited roar of the muscle head that was Michelangelo's new friend, Donatello went on a long tangent about the confusing boil of emotions he was feeling about his best friend. He admitted to the increased protectiveness he felt over April, the increased animosity towards Dale, the weirdness and unease that came when he thought about the night’s events and realized how distant April felt from him, especially with the months of skinship and closeness they’d built together. 

He placed a hand over his chest, “It feels like it happened overnight actually, but every time I think of her, I want to be around her and it feels like it gets stronger every time I see her. It wasn’t… recent development; I always wanted to be close to April, but it feels like it’s intensified tenfold, and it’s a little worrying that I’m feeling so intensely about her. I just don’t understand why I’m suddenly so aware of April all of a sudden.” He finished. 

Michelangelo watched his brother closely. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say something before deciding against it, coughing into his fist. “You don’t know why? Honestly?” 

Donatello resisted the need to be sarcastic, taking a deep breath before answering, “Yes, Angelo, honestly. Everything between April and I was going fine. I didn’t feel like this until very recently.” 

“Recently as in?” He trailed, prompting Donatello for more.

“A couple of weeks?” He was being vague for Michelangelo’s sake, but he could pinpoint when the affections shot up. It was the night of their date, when he had April all to himself for a couple of hours, making her smile and laugh and winning her gifts she accepted without question.

The night she planted her lips against his cheek. When he realized just how close her lips got to where he’d been thinking of her putting them.

Michelangelo placed a hand against his chin, humming, “Oh, you think it’s 'cause of Dale?”

“Scoff, not likely. Why would the presence of someone like that cause me such grief?”

“Because he likes April? And he’s causing trouble for her?” 

“Of course, I’m going to be upset with that. He’s been causing April trouble for the latter part of a semester, and that’s only from the time that she’s told me about it. April’s my best friend, it makes sense that I’m upset something’s stressing her out like that, much less an annoying pursuer. I don’t understand how that would result in this sudden spark of emotions.” 

Michelangelo’s leg started to bounce, pursing his lips as he took in the genuine confusion on Donatello’s face. “Donnie,” he paused, “I can’t tell you how to navigate this for very specific reasons, but I need you to look deep inside yourself, and be honest.” 

Donatello glared, “I am being honest.” 

“Yeah, but more honest though.” 

“Micheal.” 

He smirked at the stern tone in his older brother’s voice. “Dee.”

Donatello forgot that as much as Michelangelo was his favorite brother who he could talk about a lot of things with, he was still very much the little brother, and that entitled him to being a little shit every once in a while. 

“Dramatic sigh. Fine, keep your secrets.”

“Jokes aside, though. As much as I would love to tell you what’s going on with you, it’s not something I can tell you, or else you’re gonna deny it. ‘Til you’re honest with yourself and actually find out the problem, I can’t talk about it.”

“And, pray tell, you can’t give me a hint because?”

“You’ll probably take it as teasing and disregard it.” 

He scoffed; he might do that with Leonardo, sure, but he knew when Michelangelo shifted into ‘Dr. Feelings’ mode, no matter how off the walls his speculations were, Donatello would almost always take what he said into consideration. That was under the assumption that what Michelangelo said was within the realm of possibility.

Donatello crossed his arms, “I cannot believe Dr. Feelings has let me down.” 

“You always feel like that during the first session.” 

“And how many sessions until I start to feel better about this.” 

Michelangelo pulled his phone out of his pocket, casually scrolling for so long Donatello actually leaned over a little to see what was happening. “Aha!” Michelangelo exclaimed, “The twenty-third session.” 

Donatello smirked, “You’re trying to ruin me, I better not be paying for all those sessions.” 

“Can’t put a price on peace of mind, Donnie.”

“Except I can, and it better be less than my college tuition.” 

Michelangelo hissed in some air, “Got some bad news.” He smiled as Donatello let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, Donnie, I trust that you’ll figure things out sooner than later.” 

“I can only hope you are correct in that assumption.” He stood from his seat, “I think I’m going to get some air for a while and think things over.” 

Michelangelo held up his fist, “You do that, and whenever you need a second dose of Dr. Feelings, you know where to reach me!” 

He nodded, fist-bumping him with a smile on his face, and heading to the stairs. When he stepped onto the first floor, he immediately scanned the area for April. 

She was standing in the living room area with the two girls from her class. Donatello couldn’t for the life of him remember their names, but he wouldn’t be petty about it and show that. 

He glanced over, seeing Dale stare closely at him, and he smugly smirked. Donatello figured after failing for the past thirty minutes to get April to ‘finally see the light’ and want to date him, it was time to start blaming any variable that wasn’t April’s disinterest for her clear disinterest. And that meant his open antagonism towards Donatello was out in the open for all to see.  

Funny, because Donatello looked for signs of his brothers around April, and he saw none. Dale was wasting his hour failing at wooing April by being pouty, but he was going to stand in the corner and blame Donatello for it. How sad. 

On the other side of the room, Donatello made eye contact with Leonardo, who’d just walked out of the kitchen with a red cup. He motioned to the door when Leonardo raised an eyebrow at him, and Leonardo followed his eye, looked over at Dale and nodded at him, and made his way over. 

Donatello wasn't sure he needed to, but he liked Leonardo's tenacity. 

When Donatello stepped next to April, he leaned into her after grabbing her attention, placing a hand against her lower back. She blinked over at him, stopping mid-sentence in shock at the contact. The two that were with her sent a scandalized look before turning away with a giggle to give them some semblance of privacy. 

She side-eyed the girls before tilting her head at Donatello, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I was just going to go outside for a moment, and wanted to tell you.” 

“You want me to come?” she looked at the girls, “If that’s cool with y’all.” 

“Oh no, don’t let us keep you.” One of the girls giggled as the other nodded in agreement.

He would have loved that. In all honesty, Donatello wanted nothing more than to take April away from the scene, steal her away and take her on an impromptu date somewhere close. However, there was still business to take care of, and that meant they had to stay put. 

"No, you can stay. I won't be too long." He smiled. “You should have fun with your friends.” 

April's eyes cut to Dale, and Donatello's eyes followed. He must have been able to tell Donatello was about to step away, and he started to make his way over.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” One of the girls said.

“Oh, Dale’s here.” The other exclaimed.  

"Oh! Hey ladies, I didn’t know you were here." He exclaimed, false surprise so thickly coated in his voice that the thespian inside Donatello cringed. "Are you going somewhere?" 

"Outside," he said curtly, imagining Dale with a tail furiously swaying in delight as the aspect. 

April shrugged, "You know, I wouldn't mind going with you–"

Dale barely gave her time to offer, stepping awkwardly between them and placing a hand on April's shoulder, which she quickly shook off. "Oh, well, your presence will be very missed," he quickly turned to April, “Hey, I love this song, do you wanna dance?” 

“I don’t know this song at all, but I would love to!” Leonardo said, throwing his arms around their shoulders. He looked at the other women who Dale was also overlooking, “Ladies, we can make it a group thing.” 

They agreed, and Leonardo led the group to the dancing area in the living room, sending Donatello a wink and a thumbs-up as he went. 

Donatello smirked; if Leonardo knew how to do anything, it was to manipulate the energy of a group. With the thought of properly giving his twin kudos every so often, Donatello headed outside alone. 

.oOo.

Donatello would like to say that while he was outside, the chilling, start of winter air helped him cool his head, but no matter what he did, his thoughts always circle back to his conversation with Michelangelo. 

‘Be honest’, he said. He was. He was confused; confused and irritated about being confused, what else was there to it? 

At the very least, the crisp breeze hitting his cheeks kept him from getting too wrapped up in his feelings and grounded him in the moment. Him, leaning against the house where a party was being held, where his brothers were currently doing their best to keep their best friend from being approached by the human equivalent of a bad cold. Where his best friend, headstrong and perfectly radiant, was subjected to spending an hour being cordial to a man who’d steadily added stress to her life because of something he did. 

He groaned, throwing his head back, and thumping it against the house. 

April was too kind not to direct him to the nearest boxing ring and go to town on him. His sleep-deprived mind worked itself in a doozy trying to make this whole thing work, but he knew it would. He knew April didn’t like Dale. April knew that too, and by the end of the night, so would Dale. This night was the wake-up call Dale would need for reality to finally hit him in the face.

The echoes of Michelangelo telling him to be honest rang in his mind, and he sighed, watching the transparent puffs of air dissipate in the sky before closing his eyes.

He wanted to help in any state he was in, and the sleep deprivation just made it easier for his mouth to run. He gave Dale a challenge he’d lose without so much as a fight, it was an easy win for April. 

But if Donatello was honest, like he had to be, he also just wanted to see April disregard Dale’s advances in favor of him. He wanted to see a situation where no matter what, April would pick him. 

“Von Ryan?”

The slow drawl brought him out of his thoughts, blinking over at Kendra, barely wrapped in her purple scarf and black coat.

“Kendra? You come to parties?”

“And what do you mean by that?” 

He shrugged, “I wouldn’t take you for the party type.”

She walked over to him, twirling before settling in the space next to him, another body's worth of space between them. “You say that like you’ve analyzed me, Von Ryan. You like me or something.” 

“Eye roll, our relationship is strictly professional. It’s a simple–and by your admission–very true observation. So what gives.”

She shrugged, “A little birdie told me that something fun would be happening at the party, and had something in it for me, but I decided any chaos not caused by me wasn’t worth my time.”

Donatello chuckled, not taking her seriously. Kendra was tough around the edges and a little mean, but that didn’t mean he had to take everything she said to heart. “There’s something off about you, but I can’t put my finger on it.” 

“And you never will,” she smirked, “Where’s your little girlfriend, I’m assuming she’s somewhere close?”

He motioned to the house with his head, “She’s inside. Along with my brothers by the way.”

“Oh, your entourage of ‘dum-dums’ as you said.” She used finger quotes around that, but it still brought a grimace to his face. 

“Yeah, as I say. I ask you to please respect the sibling-assigned titles I have and not refer to them as that.” 

She rolled her eyes, “I see your girlfriend isn’t the only one who’s a little selfish. Can’t say I didn’t expect that.” 

He didn’t think she was, he couldn’t think of a single moment April O’Neil ever thought of only herself. It simply never existed to him. “Maybe your expectations are just wrong.”

She looked at him, taking in the faraway look in his eyes as he looked at the moon, “I guess they were right when they said love is blind. How gross.” 

He adjusted his glasses absentmindedly, “I’ll have you know I see very well. Do you have something against romance?” 

"Nope, just yours." She quickly disregarded his sudden change in topics. “How many drinks have you had, I’m not gonna talk to you while you’re in some kinda stupor.” 

“I’ll have you know I’m completely sober.” 

That gave her a pause, “Are you the designated driver or something?”

“With who’s car?” He shrugged, “I just wasn’t drinking because I was a little preoccupied.” 

"You've been here long enough to need a break outside and haven't had a drink?" 

He shrugged, "I haven't been here long." Only forty-three minutes, twenty-six seconds, and ten nanoseconds, as told by his watch, but that was nothing, he'd barely even looked at the thing.

"I'll be back." She said as she walked away, heading into the house.

Knowing that whenever Kendra decided on something, she would follow through, he didn't bother to call after her or ask where she was going. Instead, he went into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and looked through just new texts. 

There were four from their brother's group chat; Leonardo asked about all of their whereabouts and if anyone had eyes on 'the target', taking the whole idea of a stakeout too far. Michelangelo answered, saying April was with him in the basement, and Raphael responded with a picture of Dale sitting on the couch looking like there was a stick up his backside. He also sent a hasty, misspelled message about being challenged to an arm wrestling match by some overzealous woman and a hardly put-together skater boy and his location in case he was needed. 

Donatello smirked, letting out a chuckle, switching messages and telling April that they were little more than twenty minutes away from being home free of the Dale situation. 

"You're looking particularly diabolical, Othello." 

Not looking up from his text, he responded, "This is my normal face, Kendra."

"Doesn't negate my statement." 

Kendra pushed an empty cup into his hands as she walked back to her spot next to him, not caring that he didn't look up to receive it. "I’m pouring you something. You don't have to drink it all if you don't want," she popped her large can of beer open, tilting it towards him with a smirk, "if you decide you can't take it, I'll finish yours off after I'm done with mine." 

Donatello scoffed, rolling his eyes at the challenge and letting out a proud chuckle as he accepted, letting her pour some of her beer into his cup. "Just because I said I wasn't drinking doesn't mean I can't handle drinking, my friend." 

"Well, now here's your chance to convince me," she tilted her can so Donatello could clink his plastic cup with her. "To the end of the semester." 

"To the end of the semester." 

They both leaned against the house, taking occasional sips of their drink as they buried their noses in their phones. 

One of the things Donatello appreciated about his friendship with Kendra was they could sit next to each other and do nothing with each other. Sometimes, even ignore each other’s presence altogether if it came down to it. Jeremy once joked that they were like toddlers during parallel play, but Donatello couldn’t think of any other way to explain it.

It was different from his relationship with April, whose presence he was always somewhat conscious of, but he did enjoy Kendra’s company every so often. 

Kendra had just finished off her drink when she shivered from the cool. “Geez, I’m gonna freeze my tits off out here. You wanna go in?”

Just as Donatello nodded, pushing himself off the house, his phone vibrated in his hand just as it was going into his pocket. He unlocked his phone, seeing messages from April. 

April [22:40] these guys are so bad at beer pong

April [22:41] come down so we can make fun of them >:3c

He chuckled, following Kendra as she trudged towards the front of the house, walking right past him without him even realizing. As he was walking up the porch steps, he realized he didn’t respond to April, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

“Hey,” 

He took his time looking up, typing out the message he was going to send to April before heaving a sigh at the angry man. Donatello analyzed him, taking in his crossed arms, his slightly reddening cheeks, and the heaviness of his breaths against the cold air before parting his mouth to speak.

“Yes?”

Dale scowled, tensing in his stance before trying to relax, although Donatello's blank, uninterested face made him a bit anxious. “We need to talk.” 

Donatello looked at his phone, rereading the unsent message telling April he was on his way to her, and then looking at the time. Less than ten minutes away from April never having to deal with this again if Dale was truly a man of his word. And even if he wasn’t, Dale going back on his word wasn’t something Donatello couldn’t see himself rectifying if it came down to it. 

He locked his phone, pocketing it. 

“Sure, lead the way.” 

Chapter Text

.oOo.

Dale at least had the common courtesy to let Donatello warm up a little but not enough courtesy to lead him away from the back hallway where the cold air swept in through the cracks of the back door.  The ‘indoor’ patio on the other side did nothing to stop the cold air, and Donatello let his mind drift to the multiple possible fixes for the draft. Not like he had much else to focus on at the moment.

Donatello folded his arms, leaning against the wall to give off the air of indifference, but to also warm the tips of his fingers that were starting to feel cold as ice. 

For a while, the two just stared at each other. Donatello, with a bored look on his face, occasionally checked his clock as the seconds ticked on, and Dale, with the anger of a tea kettle getting ready to scream. 

“Well,” Dale said, his hands thrown out in irritation, “don’t you have something to tell me?”

Donatello tilted his head, cuffing his ear as if he didn’t hear him over the dull music, which made Dale shake with irritation. 

“You know you heard me! Now answer!” 

“What was the question again?”

“Don’t you have something to say to me?!”

Donatello once again looked at his watch and smirked. Only five minutes to go. “Hm, maybe something along the lines of ‘ I told you so’ perhaps?” 

“No! How about a damn apology after the night you put me through!” 

Donatello snapped his head up to look at the young man like he was a screeching buffoon throwing out-of-place profanities. “Hey, pot? The kettle called.”

Dale waved him off, almost interrupting him midsentence, “Enough with your pretentious sayings, I’ve had enough of this!” He pointed his index finger at Donatello, almost as if he were poking him in the chest, “You straight up sabotaged me like a cheater!” 

Donatello rolled his eyes, lightly yet firmly smacking his hand out of his space. “Oh please, what I did was hardly cheating. I told you I wouldn’t be leaving April alone with you, it’s an oversight on your part for thinking I’d be doing it by myself.” 

Years of explaining away and pushing off guilt to his brothers were truly paying off at this moment. He was really going to treat them for the holiday this year.

“You did, and that was enough for you, huh?” he replied hotly, tensing up like he was physically trying to restrain his anger. 

He felt the same, but at least he was better at hiding it. Just another reason Dale paled in comparison to Donatello. 

Donatello motioned around the dark, empty walkway, taking in the fading sound of music, and faint footsteps overhead from the people on the second floor. There were a few stray people walking from the bathrooms just a couple steps away who eyed them up before going about their business, people glancing at them as they turned to head either up the staircase to the second floor, or down to the basement. One or two people stood at the other end of the hall.

And not an April O’Neil in sight. 

“I’d say it’s doing just enough.” 

“Like hell it did. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have told April to act like she wasn’t into me for the hour.”

Donatello did a double, no, a triple take. “Excuse me?”

He shook his head but it did nothing to deter Dale from talking, “Why else would she be so avoidant of me in the first place?! Of course, you’d go and tell her to act like she isn’t into me just to feed your own dumb ego.”

Donatello’s face hardened with disbelief and annoyance. “Out of the two of us, I think the one with the over-inflated ego here is you.” 

“Yeah right, April is obviously into me and you’re too upset that she doesn't want you to be her boyfriend to see it, aren’t you? This whole bet probably wasn’t even because you wanted me to leave her alone, it was just so you could scare away any competition that comes your way because you knew you’d lose.”

Donatello scrambled his mind for the proper words to use to respond to all of that, but all he could utter was, “You cannot be serious. There’s no way your brain came up with those words and you thought they were a perfectly viable response to this situation, there’s just no way.” 

Dale threw his hands in the air and Donatello made sure to watch them just in case he tried anything funny. “Of course I’m serious! I don’t know what you said to her, but April wouldn’t ignore me the way she has been tonight! Not without prompting, and the only reason I can think of that she would start is because you told her to. You know, I knew you were a shitty person, but this is lowdown even for you!”

Dale’s voice carried down the hallway, causing the few people who were there to look at them, but Donatello didn’t have it in him to care about them. No matter how hard he tried to wrap his head around Dale’s logic, he couldn’t believe an actual person could be this detached from reality. 

He thought that April showing clear signs of uninterest was because of Donatello's mere presence. He actually believed that her purposefully choosing to spend time with other people, who she actually enjoyed having around, was some kind of ego boost for Donatello, even though he'd left her alone for a good portion of the latter half of the challenge. 

He didn’t know Donatello. He didn’t have the slightest clue about his character nor his personality, but here he was, painting Donatello as some nefarious villain for, what, standing by his best friend’s wishes to not date him? 

“And in what universe do you think we live that I could make April do anything she didn’t want to?” 

Admittedly, this one. He was already privy to the fact that out of all the soft spots that existed in April’s mind, he existed in one of the biggest ones. However, if April had something she really wanted to do, she would do it regardless of the soft spot she had for him. The opposite was also true.

Donatello didn’t think he could get April to do anything too outside of her character, but then again, when would he ever want her to? Who would she be if she simply bent to the will of others? 

Dale scoffed loudly, leaning so heavily against the wall that Donatello started to consider that maybe the young blockhead had one too many drinks and lost any inhibition at all. He was starting to throw anything at the wall to get an admission of guilt from Donatello. 

“You seem to think so highly of yourself, I’m sure you’ve found ways to manipulate her.” 

“Scoff, just because you talked yourself into a tricky bind doesn't mean someone else will. April can actually keep pace with me in a conversation, which is more than I can say for you. I couldn't manipulate her to do Jack squat even if I tried.” It was one of the things he admired about her, actually. How well she matched him word for word, not so similar to him that it felt like a conversation with himself, but not so different that they misunderstood each other. “You don’t give her enough credit at all. However, I’m not surprised; someone with such a superficial crush on her couldn’t hope to understand her as I would.”

Donatello’s watch finally went off, but he quickly silenced it, not being able to enjoy the victory as he wanted. Leave it to Dale to once again ruin something Donatello intended to celebrate.

“It’s not superficial! You’d know that if you didn’t get in the way of what April wants.”

The way Dale kept insisting he was what April wanted, not taking any of her actions that broadcasted the exact opposite into account, was distasteful in Donatello’s eyes, and the increased disdain boiling under his skin continued to grow. 

“You wouldn’t know what April wanted even if she told you. And, newsflash, she has.”

“She’s just being a little bashful! Probably because she has a controlling boyfriend like you.” He huffed, stomping his foot against the floor like a toddler throwing a tantrum, “April wants to be with me, and you’re getting in the way of that.”

“Eye roll, and how would I be doing that?”

“Like this!” He bellowed, motioning at Donatello’s form, “Staying with April! You’re making her be with you when she really wants to be with me. And this whole challenge thing! You weren’t gonna give me a fair chance to begin with! It's like you set this up for me to lose!”

Donatello wouldn’t lie and say he was the most patient person in the world—hell, he wouldn’t even consider himself the most patient among his brothers, so the fact that he got this far in a conversation with someone who actively infuriated him to no end without blowing his own gasket was an accomplishment all on its own. 

It was a shame he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the merits of his good behavior. He would have at least liked April to see him trying so hard.

"Are you fucking dense? Of course, you were going to lose. It's an inevitability because April has absolutely zero romantic interest in you!"

"And how the fuck would you know that?"

 "Uh, because I'm her boyfriend? That makes it pretty obvious." 

"And that's a good enough reason to speak for her?!" 

"Absolutely, because unlike a certain someone here, I actually listen to her."

The small crowd at the end of the hallway was starting to bubble into a medium-sized one, and that made Donatello conscious enough to struggle to try to keep his voice lower than the music could carry. He was angry, yes, but he also didn’t want word traveling back to any of his brothers that he was in a screaming match with the boy he’d spent almost a whole hour subtly antagonizing. Or even worse, if word got back to April, he’d have to explain how he let Dale crawl under his skin like a human parasite. 

 Dale had no such reservations, unknowingly giving the people a show. His hands moved wildly in front of him, and it seemed like his voice got louder after every response he got. It was almost like his anger was fueled by how little reaction he seemed to be getting from Donatello. 

Donatello didn’t care, looking off to the side at the crowd. Some of them seemed to see his stare in the dim light, most of them trying to scurry away, pushing past some people who were trying to get through the crowd. He squinted his eyes, seeing two heads of brightly dyed locs bounce their way through the crowd, stopping for a moment and sending one the other way. 

Knowing that the two figures were none other than two of the three of his brothers, Donatello moved to walk away, only to stop briefly when Dale yelled over the music:

“Oh, so now you’re walking away from the truth?”

He sighed, turning to him with annoyance bathing his voice, “Once again, pot, meet the damn kettle. There’s no truth in anything you’re saying! You’ve deluded yourself long enough and I think it’s about time you face the facts that April just doesn’t want to date you—”

“Except she kissed me, so she can't be that opposed to us dating, right?” 

Donatello stopped in his tracks, trying and failing to keep the disbelief and unsavory look off his face. Because the thought of April kissing Dale of all people filled Donatello with the most gut-churning wave of disgust that he couldn’t focus on how improbable the whole thing was. 

And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, it send the most shameful, flagrant burn of envy through him that the actual image of her kissing him was painted in the front of his mind even though he was sure it’d never happened. 

Because, really, Dale, kissing April? In this century? This lifetime? How could he have even managed that? How could he have managed that even before Donatello himself? He was pretending to be her boyfriend for pizza's sake. He was closest to April, saw her at her most vulnerable, and held her in his arms. Even after all that, he couldn’t even confidently say that he’d kissed April – not in the way Dale’s stupid, shit-eating smirk was implying he had.

Donatello had kissed her head, her cheek, her fingers, and once upon a time had even kissed her nose during the haze of childhood innocence. He was the one entangled in such an intimate relationship with her; her best friend, the one that usually stood by her side closer than the rest. But Dale, of all people, implied he took the pleasure of taking her lips before Donatello could even build up the courage to even think of how much he would like to.

“What?” Dale said, smugness surrounding him like a force field, “No wisecrack to throw in my face?”

Donatello rolled his eyes, “There’s no wisecrack because I don’t understand how you could stand here and lie so blatantly like that after losing the bet.”

“How would you know, huh?”

“Okay, Nosferatu, riddle me this: when exactly did she kiss you, and why?” 

“Because she likes me.” 

He looked at him with a deadpanned stare, “Please be serious about this.”

“I am, you’re not seeing that I am because your little feelings are hurt.”

Already feeling the awful bubble of emotions in his chest, Donatello wasn’t too thrilled when a hand tapped his shoulder and it almost gave him a start. He forced himself to calm down when he looked over to see Leonardo half-stepping in front of him.

“And what is going on here? I thought we were here to have a good time.” Leonardo sang chipperly, although the gaze he had on Dale was a lot less than friendly. Even without knowing the gest of the conversation, when Leonardo looked at his twin’s posture and the subtleties that let him know Donatello was pissed beyond a reasonable doubt, he could feel himself getting angry for him. He’d joke about it being their twin telepathy, but Donatello was in no mood to jokingly shut him down, so there was no point.

“I am trying to have a good time,” Dale immediately defended, “it’s your brother here that’s being the sorest fucking loser.” 

“Says the one who actually lost the bet,” Donatello couldn’t help but bite back.

“Yeah, and that’s because you hate seeing April happy!” 

And no matter how hard Donatello tried to tell himself to stay calm, to not rise to any of Dale’s half-baked excuses of accusations, he couldn’t help but take the bait for that one. Just who the hell did he think he was? How could he say Donatello didn’t want to see April happy? Her best friend? The one who's been trying his hardest to make sure she's not destroying herself with stress about the whole situation? The one who's been by her side, ensuring she's as happy as can be despite everything? Who's tried desperately to minimize any worry about this entire situation since she brought it up? The one who had to hold her, and comfort her, after this asshole put unnecessary pressure on her in hopes of coercing her into a relationship? 

How dare he.

Donatello stepped around Leonardo although he didn’t go any farther when his twin held his arm out. “You’re the only asshole here that doesn’t care about April’s happiness.”

Donatello could feel himself getting aggravated, trying to remind himself to take deep breaths and not get pulled into the sway of his emotions. 

April wanted this to end peacefully; his brothers were here to have a good time; he wanted to see the end of the Dale Simp Era and the start of a new dawn for his best friend. None of that could happen smoothly if he lost his cool there over some off-the-wall accusations from some nobody grasping at straws. 

As asinine and utterly ridiculous as Dale's words were, they were no justifications for Donatello acting out of character. 

But then Dale reached out and roughly grabbed Donatello's collar, bearing his teeth with a snarl as he started to scream profanities at the young genius. 

Perfect. That seemed like justification enough. 

.oOo.

April watched as her call connected, seconds before Sunita’s face appeared on her screen, two kids that looks similar enough to her attached to her shoulders. 

“April, hi! Aren’t you at a party? Why’re you outside? Aren’t you cold?”

She wasn’t, but April wrapped herself tighter in Raphael’s coat anyways, pushing down the chills. “Naw, I’m alright, the cold keeps the buzz from kicking in,” she fibbed, but Sunita didn’t mind, giggling at her false reasoning.

She’d initially walked out of the house hoping to run into Donatello. She hadn’t seen him since he’d told her he was going outside and then hadn’t heard from him since he left her on read, which wasn’t typical Donatello behavior at all. After not being able to find him, she shrugged it off; they were at a party, after all. Maybe he’d found something to steal his attention away. 

And she hadn’t seen Dale, so April supposed it would be alright to let him relax and have a little bit of fun. 

Though, with Michelangelo running around being his usual charming self and making friends, Leonardo finding new partners on the dancefloor, and Rapheal currently going for the most consecutive wins in an arm-wrestling match, April couldn’t help feeling just a touch lonely. And because her usual partner in crime was nowhere to be seen, she might as well check in on one of her favorite people during her family holiday vacation.

“So, how’s the party? Anything important happened while I’m not there?” Sunita asked, pushing one of her siblings away when they reached for her phone. 

“Nothing super interesting, “ April remarked, leaning her elbows against the banister, subtly watching the remaining people on the pouch either leave or head back into the house. “Although, Dale is here, somewhere.”

Sunita looked pleasantly surprised, “What? He’s there and leaving you alone? Are the leaves growing back on the tree in December?”

April chuckled, shrugging, “You know, some stuff happened.”

“You said nothing happened.”

“I said nothing interesting.”

She pouted, groaning with a scolding tone, “April. Something happened! Spill, tell me all about it.” 

April looked over her shoulder, making sure the door was closed before looking back at her phone. “Well, Donnie made this bet–don’t give me that look, I didn’t like it either.” 

She rolled her eyes, shooing away another kid, “Okay, okay, I’ll let it go. What’d he bet.” 

April explained the bet, making sure to check over her shoulder every so often so no one she didn’t know could surprise her. After explaining, she picked fun and joked with Sunita about it until the hard line between Sunita’s brow disappeared. While April didn’t like being brought into silly things like bets, she admitted to Sunita that if everything went well, which she was starting to believe it had, she wouldn’t have to worry about Dale cramping her style for semesters to come.

Sunita giggled, “Boyfriend Donnie to the rescue yet again. What’s his favorite dessert, I’ll bring it to him as a reward next year.” 

That sobered April a little. Because Sunita believed Donatello was actually her boyfriend. And next year, after their holiday break, he wouldn’t have to play that role anymore. But Sunita wouldn’t know it was because their relationship wasn’t real.

She really should have thought this bringing Sunita into this web of lies thing through.

“Oh, heh, he’s more of a bittersweet dessert kinda guy. But I don’t think you’re going to need to make him anything.” She tried to keep her voice as airy as it was before, but it sounded flat to even herself. She almost hoped that she’d messed up her phone speaker after dropping the thing on the floor earlier when her team continued to be the worst at beer pong. 

Luck and fortune weren’t on her side tonight, however, because Sunita adjusted in her seat, sitting up straighter. “April, what’s wrong?”

She hummed as in answer, avoiding looking at her screen and instead running her thumb against the smudge of lipstick against the back of her other hand. “What? Nothing’s wrong, I don’t know what you mean. How’s–” 

“Aht aht, before you even start to try to change the subject, I’m not going to let you. I want answers.” 

April clicked her tongue, weighing her options. The era of her and Donatello’s fake relationship was basically over, wasn’t it? The semester was ending, their classes would be switched, and the possibility of being put in the same class with Dale again was slim to none. Although, maybe not for Sunita, who she shared a major with. But after tonight, he was supposed to put his feelings aside, so the necessity for Sunita to play along wasn’t an issue anymore. Worse comes to worst, Sunita would feel a little awkward around Donatello for assuming he and April were together, but that was miles better than her believing the two to be exes.

She bit her lip; she’d probably looked like the biggest fool on the planet, but regardless, she sighed. 

“I don’t… think Donnie and I will be together come next semester.”

The gasp Sunita let out was so audible that someone on the other side of the room shushed her. “Are you two breaking up?” She whispered.

That at least put a smile on April’s face before it fell, the bitter truth making her lips twist. “We weren’t–y’know, actually together in the first place, Sunita.” 

Sunita was quiet and still for long enough that April thought her phone froze on her.  The faint sound of a TV in the background and the squealing laughter of children were the only indicators that it hadn’t. 

Sunita let out a confused hum. 

“I’m sorry, did I mishear that?” 

April looked over her shoulder once again before looking back at her. “No?” 

She watched several emotions run across Sunita’s face; confusion, disbelief, indignation, displeasure, all before settling on a tight smile. 

Sunita gently moved her cousin's head off her lap, her form wobbling and phone angling towards the ceiling as she moved, "Let me go somewhere private." 

Despite knowing Sunita wasn't paying attention to her, April tilted her head, slight panic in her stomach. "I didn't know I was on speaker." Sunita would usually warn her when she was.

"You aren't! You're in my ear." She cheerfully stated, looking down at her camera, moving her hair out of the way so April could see the pale pink, bunny-styled earbud Sunita loved. She softly huffed as she turned around, most likely seeing a group of her family in the room she was moving to. At moments like that, April didn’t envy her for having such a large family.

"I just need to switch rooms for something."

April turned around to lean against the banister, facing the door before looking down at her phone with a chuckle at the view of Sunita’s blurry ceiling. "Sure, do what you need to." 

From the view of the top of Sunita’s head, April knows Sunita pulled her phone closer to her face, speaking directly into the mic despite having her headphone in her ear. Sunita cupped her mouth, making sure the cousins she passed couldn't read her lips, and very slowly, she whispered, "When I see you next year, I am kicking your ass."

Oh, dear.

April let out a loud bark of laughter, surprised by her friend's language, but also very amused at it. She was too baffled to take the girl seriously, but from the unamused look Sunita sent her in return, maybe she should. “I thought–ha! I thought you were gonna kick Donnie’s ass.” 

“Oh, him too! I can’t believe you two would do something like this?”

“Really?”

“... No, it’s somehow very in character for you both.” 

“I honestly can’t believe you believed it. You’re too trusting sometimes.”

Sunita rolled her eyes, “It’s not that I’m too trusting, April. It’s that I seriously thought you and Donatello were dating! You two just–” she waved her hand around, trying to find the perfect word to use, “--worked super well together? It’s hard to explain, you two don’t have the energy of super platonic friends.” 

April took a deep breath, “Well, that might be because of me.” 

Sunita tilted her head, analyzing April’s face before sighing sadly, “Oh, April.” 

“Yeah,” she tried to laugh to keep the energy up, “it’s super unrequited though. ‘M pretty sure he already has my replacement ready. Though, it’s not really my role, kinda, so to call her a replacement is kinda not correct.” 

“You know, if you’re talking about that purple girl, my point still stands on that issue.” 

“Sunita–”

“No, April, listen to me,” she pointed a finger at the camera, “I didn’t just think you and Donatello were dating just because you told me. I honestly saw something between the two of you – from both of you. Not just you. Remember when I said you need to give yourself more credit?”

“Yeah, but that was when you thought I was his girlfriend.” 

“Sure, but you should give yourself credit for being a woman with a crush. And a woman with a crush on a man that has a crush on her too.” 

April scowled at the thought. Having a crush? At her big age? And on her childhood best friend no less. How embarrassing. 

“Sunita, what exactly are you implying with that?”

“You could always try to sweep him off his feet, you know? You’re charming enough to do that, aren’t you?” 

And honestly, April considered the thought. She did like Donatello; he was her best friend and partner in crime. She had so much fun being his fake girlfriend, and it was so easy to forget that it wasn’t real whenever he was with her. He treated her well, and she wanted to treat him well, too. She didn’t consider herself his type, but she also knew that Donatello wasn’t a stickler to the rules like so many people thought him to be. 

If she really wanted to, if she worked hard enough, she was sure she could get Donatello to at least consider the possibility of dating her. But–

“I can’t.” She sighed, chewing at the bottom of her lip for a moment, “Donnie’s already done enough for me, and if I’m right about this whole thing about Kendra, I wanna be supportive of him.” She shook her head, “I don’t wanna push my feelings onto him after the months he’s spent catering to me.”

“Okay, but maybe consider you’re wrong about this whole Kendra thing?”

April rolled her eyes, “Considering I’ve seen it face-to-face?”

Sunita scrunched her face in skepticism and April huffed at the expression, 

“Sunita,” she whispered, almost scandalized, “I will not be trying to entice my best friend.” 

“Yeah, but you could.” 

“And I won’t. Geez, you’re almost worst than Leo. I’m hanging up.” She figured she’d been outside for long enough and it was about time she went looking for her boys so they would all find a sit-in restaurant that was still open to college students and was also, hopefully, deeply haunted in some way. Besides, the tips of her ears were getting cold. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay, April! But remember, even though you and Donatello aren’t really dating, I’m still inclined to beat him up if he makes you cry.” 

April laughed, signing off with a, “I’ll let him know,” already walking towards the door before Sunita had hung up. She grabbed the doorknob, quickly stepping back when it opened on its own, another person looking up just before bumping into her. 

Kendra looked about as shocked as April did, both holding each other’s shocked stare before blinking themselves back to the present. Kendra raised an eyebrow as April attempted a neutral look. 

"I didn't know you were here." April greeted, voice tight as she remembered the remnants of her conversation with Sunita. 

Kendra perked with interest at the tone, nodding her head back at the door, “Your friend, Dave, invited me. Were you leaving or something?”

April didn’t correct her about Dale, not wanting to continue the conversation more than necessary, “No, I wasn’t. I was gonna go look for Donnie.”

“What a coincidence, me too. There's no one I really care about at this party, and I wanted to hang out with him more. I kinda lost him.”

April blinked. What did she mean by more? “You already saw him tonight?”

She shrugged, “Earlier when I got here, yes. We shared a drink and talked for a bit.” Kendra looked her up and down, and April wasn’t sure what her own face looked like, but it delighted Kendra to see. “What’s wrong?”

April shook her head, trying to push down the feeling of hurt that quickly settled on her back, weighing her down. She thought of the time between Donatello reading her message and not responding, how long she’d gone without seeing him, and considered how she didn’t even know Kendra was here. 

“Nothing. So he was with you?" April asked, trying to swallow the lump in her throat because wow did it hurt to be ditched.

Kendra shrugged, nose turned in the air, screaming superiority at April, "Well, Von Ryan needed someone by his side, might as well be me." 

April took a deep breath, about to give her another piece of her mind when “April! April!” came screaming at her from in the house, nearly barreling Kendra over in its pursuit.

Michelangelo gave himself about three seconds of breath before grabbing April by the upper arm and pulling her into the house. “We have a bit of a situation.”

.oOo.

Michelangelo told April that Donatello and Dale were arguing on the way over, but did warn her that that was all he knew about before Leonardo told him to go find her, and April wanted to get to them as fast as possible before something regrettable happened. However, on the way Kendra deterred them to the kitchen, grabbing a few bags of peas out of the freezer before telling Michelangelo to lead the way.

When April, Kendra, and Michelangelo rushed through the back door, nearly knocking the door down on the indoor patio’s floor, Donatello, Leonardo, and Dale were sitting on the patio’s stairs with enough space between the brothers and Dale that a group of five could walk through them, all in an almost morbid silence as they all seemed to come to their sense. 

Donatello’s glasses looked a bit out of place and the front of his shirt was wrinkled in the front, and while Leonardo looked a little tense with his clothes a little disordered, he looked pretty alright. 

Dale looked the most disheveled and had a napkin pressed inside his nostrils, and the hint of red peaking on the napkin told April the thing she feared most had happened. 

Michelangelo stood next to the door, staying close to the door as a lookout for Raphael, who no one seemed to want to be the one to go find him. The other two walked over to the broken group, moving to stand in front of the boys, April with her hands on her hips, and Kendra with a giddy smirk on her face. 

April frowned at her. She was too excited about the turn of events for April’s liking. 

Kendra stepped up to the group, looking over at April after dumping a bag into Dale’s hands. She passed over Leonardo and slid over to Donatello, who hadn’t even looked up from his boots, and attempted to grab Donatello’s hand. 

Leonardo was quicker though, grabbing the bag from Kendra with an, “I don’t know if you want to do that; he’s still a little volatile, so we’ll need a trained professional.” He looked at April, tilting the bag to her. 

A troubled look was on April's face but she still grabbed it. She didn’t look at his face when she crouched in front of Donatello, focusing as her hands hovered over his hand briefly. She cupped the bottom of his hand in one of hers, taking in the agitation of his knuckles, squeezing his hand gently when his fingers closed around hers, and she sighed. She placed the bag gently on the flesh, pursing her lips as she tried not to seem too agitated at the situation.

Donatello's eyes immediately went to her lips when he noticed it was her. 

"Goodness, Dee, what happened? I leave you alone for a couple of minutes and you go and get yourself into trouble." 

"Why’s your lipstick all smudged off?" 

"Wha–?" She eyed him questioningly, one of her fingers reaching up to rub against the bottom of her lips and looking at it as if she didn't realize the fact. "What does that have to do with anything? You hit Dale. Why?" 

She didn't tell him why. Didn't even hesitate a little to explain to him. Why wouldn't she tell him? 

Donatello side-eyed Dale, watching as he hissed as he tried to apply the bag of peas to himself. He flinched when Kendra snatched the bag, placing it against his nose none too kindly. Donatello wished he could find some enjoyment in that, but he hadn’t had enough time to cool down to find a spark of pleasure. 

Logically, Donatello knew April wouldn't lower herself to actually locking lips with the likes of Dale; she hadn't in high school and she wouldn't now that they were so close to an end. But with all the anger and frustration and irrational irritation still at the forefront of his mind, logic wasn't exactly his best friend right now. 

Donnie looked off to the side, the scowl on his face twisting his mouth shut. 

April sighed, "Donnie–" 

"Look," Kendra stepped in, "your friend was bothering him, so he smacked him a little bit, it's not a big deal." 

April frowned at her, ignoring Dale when he started to yell at Kendra, who was also ignoring him.

While Donatello could be as impulsive and gung-ho in recklessness as his brothers, he wasn't one to act out of anger physically. He'd throw sly remarks, could make someone feel less than dirt with his words, or talk circles around someone that he didn't like, but anything physical was usually off the table. 

She needed to know what happened so she could figure out if he was okay. 

But she wouldn't bother explaining that to Kendra. 

“Why’s his cheek swelling too?” Kendra asked, amusement seeping into her voice as she turned from Dale to Donatello, “You telling me you hit him twice, Othello?” 

Without a word, April turned her glare to Leonardo, who tried his best to avoid her glance, poking his fingers together.

“It was a reflex,” he mumbled with a shrug.

“A reflex?!” Dale yelled, voice wet and stuffy as he stopped holding his nose to point to his face with both hands, “You winded back your whole arm to punch me in the face!”

“Allegedly.” Leonardo retorted, earning a snicker from Donatello. "How could I have the time to hit you when I broke up the fight?"

"You could barely call it that," Donatello murmured. 

Dale frowned comically, and Donatello couldn’t help but think he was acting way too animatedly for someone who just gotten hit twice. Must be the presence of more company that he feels protected. Then again, Dale was back to not addressing him at all, so maybe he thought he hadn't pushed Leonardo to the level of 'violent reactions' just yet.

“I’m sure if you pointed a flashlight at me, you would see your knuckle prints!”

Kendra pulled her phone out, “We can test that.” 

“Stop.” April sighed, glancing over at Kendra as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “You’re not helping.”

“You specifically.” 

April glared at her, “You’re not helping the situation at all.” 

Kendra pointed to Donatello, “I don’t think Othello minds, he’s pretty silent about the whole thing. Probably 'cause he knows I’m on his side.” 

For the first time since she’s shown up, Donatello looked at Kendra, a deep-seated scowl on his face, although no one noticed because Michelangelo quickly stepped closer to the group, standing right behind Dale, "We're all on Donnie's side here. No need to start splitting up about it." 

“I’m not. I couldn’t be further on the opposite end of his side.” Dale spat, earning a glare from the two brothers and shutting him up immediately. 

Michelangelo placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling the taller from his seat and turning him towards the door. He looked at him, closed eyes and his smile wide, the irritation clear in his voice as he said, “Isn’t your nose bleeding? Let’s take care of that.” before pulling him towards the house despite his clear disagreement. 

"Mikey–" April started, ready to stand to follow the duo until Donatello tightened his hold on her hand to stop her.

"Don't worry, April! I can handle this for you."

Leonardo laughed, looking over his shoulder at him, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

Michelangelo chuckled, "That's a lot of leeways, Leo." 

April bit her lip as she watched him none too gently push Dale through the door.

"Anywhizzles," Leonardo sang, standing next to Kendra and placing a hand against her shoulder, "The most important thing is we're all relieved that this whole situation is over with, right?

Kendra smirked, "Yeah, April, isn't that right?" 

April's face twisted, looking towards Donatello's hand in hers. She had to remind herself that Kendra didn’t know the entire situation because the implication of that statement felt too close to home for April’s liking.

"Of course." 

"Probably gonna miss being fawned over by two guys, though, right?" 

“Kendra.” Donatello reprimanded. 

Leonardo let out a loud, long awkward laugh, slightly shaking Kendra not too gently, not minding when she shook herself out of his grip with a grimace. "So funny, Kendra! Just like our Donnie's dry brand of humor." 

The grimace on her face was short-lived. The second she looked over at the pair, seeing the annoyance on Donatello's face directed at her made her want to laugh. It also wasn't lost to her that April wouldn't look at her despite the clear detestation on her face at the thought.

"See that, Othello? Your brother here seems to know how fitting we are with each other." 

The only thing filling the stiff air was Leonardo’s forced laughter, eyes nervously darting between Kendra and April, who wrangled her hand out of Donatello’s and folded them on her lap. “I mean, I never said that. All I said was you two were pretty similar."

“Yeah,” Donatello said lowly, already miffed that April let go of his hand, “and Nardo has compared me to a chicken sandwich before. So I wouldn’t think too much about it.” 

April entangled her fingers together, sending Donatello as good of a teasing smirk as she could get, “Well, you two are pretty similar, you can take my word for that, right, Othello.” 

Donatello made eye contact with April, feeling a challenge in her stare. He didn’t like the way she said that, didn’t like her using that nickname because it felt so distant coming from her. 

He forced a deep breath, deciding now wasn't the greatest time to bring it up; not with the extra company, “Well, now that the anger has subsided, I am suddenly and deeply regretting the actions I’ve done,” Donatello said, voice barely above a whisper. 

Leonardo half-heartedly rolled his eyes at the sarcasm that crept through his blanket apology, and Kendra let out a small laugh with a smirk, picking up on it as well. April was the only one to look at him as if she heard the small sincerity in his voice. 

Because she knew Donatello wasn't one to do anything hastily like that; he tried to keep his, admittedly, explosive temper under wraps to keep himself from doing stupid things like punching someone for stupidly running their mouths. He hadn't let his mood affect his actions since he was a teen, but even still the worst he'd ever done was throw a box of Michelangelo's crayons around his brothers. 

Donatello wasn’t necessarily sure if he regretted hitting Dale, but losing his temper was something he couldn’t stand. And April knew that and appreciated it.

He’d felt so seen; of course, April was the one to see him. Which is why he couldn't let her distance stand any longer. 

“Have you cooled down enough to go back to the party?” Leonardo asked as Donatello and April stood.

Donatello clenched and unclenched his bruised hand, taking the slight pain in his knuckles in stride before sighing out a "No," and taking April's hand leading her to the house.

.oOo.

Donatello let out a sigh as the door closed behind them. It was easier than he thought it would be to find an empty room. Sure they had to go to the second floor and maneuver through a small group in the middle of the stairs, but other than that, it was fairly easy. 

He stepped further into the room and, for the first time that night, willingly let go of April's hand, trying to see if she would follow him, or try to start a conversation with him. 

She didn't. She hovered the door instead. Once again keeping the distance between them noticeable.

He'd let out a sigh that turned into a groan, his unbruised hand pushing his fringe out of his face before turning to look at April. 

She flinched slightly, his sudden movement bringing her out of her own train of thought, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

Donatello took another deep breath, straightening his posture as he tried to project an air of serenity and patience. He tapped the tips of his fingers together as he tried to think of a gentle way to say–

“And what exactly has been your problem with me this whole night?” 

“...Excuse you?” 

Well, he could have asked that better, but at least it was out now. 

“You know what I mean, April. You clearly have something against me.” 

She rolled her eyes, her hands going to her hips as she shifted her weight to one leg, hip popping out with an attitude. “I don’t ‘clearly have something against you’ for being upset you hit someone, especially someone I didn’t want you having a whole altercation with in the first place.” 

“It’s not just that! You’ve been pulling away from me a lot more, and then acting like it’s perfectly normal for you to do that all night.” he crossed his arms, “Not to mention, you’re not telling me stuff and calling me stuff like ‘Othello’ out of nowhere and I don’t like that.”

“What? Othello’s only cool when Kendra says it?” 

“She’s the one who came up with the nickname, I don’t care when she says it.” 

But he cared when April said it. Donatello had a nickname that felt April-specific — Dee, the shortest iteration of his name — he’d basically classified it as a term of endearment in his mind. Even if April wasn’t technically the only one to use it, whenever it was uttered, Donatello knew it was an April-coined term and her standard. 

To hear her call him another name, something coined by someone else, someone not as close to him, made the distance she was trying to put between them so clear.

April squinted her eyes, “So, it is only cool when Kendra uses it.” 

“It’s not about whether it’s cool or not.” 

“You didn’t deny it’s cooler.”

“Because it’s irrelevant to the issue at hand!” Donatello groaned, “I don’t – just don’t call me that.”

The fighting stance April had withered away, deflating as she folded her arms defensively, and she shrugged, “Alright, Kendra specific. Noted.” 

“April, it’s not like that–”

“You must really like her.” 

And with a standard awful sense of timing, Leonardo walked into the room, catching the tail end of April's question. At least he had the decency to at least look embarrassed for interrupting, but neither April nor Donatello paid attention to him, too focused on trying to find the right words to say to one another.

"Uh, hey, guys–?"

“Actually, I don’t wanna know–”

“I don’t – not in that way.”

She looked to the side, seemingly ignoring his denial, “I mean, you ditched me to hang out with her, right? It makes sense that you’d wanna hang out with your crush instead of babysitting me.”

Donatello sighed, “April, I feel like we’ve been over this before. I don’t have a crush on Kendra, and before you say anything, I also have no ulterior motives that involve Kendra at all!” 

“You snuck off to be with her, though!”

The look she gave him was one he knew very well, the one she would give him when she caught him in a clear lie and wanted a confession. Donatello was a little hurt that she would give it to him now.

April, also feeling hurt, was more focused on the idea that Donatello was trying so hard to keep her out of the loop regarding Kendra. April liked to believe she knew enough about her best friend to come up with some of her own conclusions, and those ended up being true more times than not, so she didn’t understand why he was being so stubborn in telling her what she’d already found out.

“I didn’t sneak off with her though!” 

“Well, she sure made it seem that way.” She groaned, hands thrown into the air, “Look, I get it okay? I predisposed you with this whole Dale situation, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to pretend like you don’t like someone because of it. I feel shitty enough that you got so deeply involved, you’re making it worse by lying to me.” 

Donatello clapped his hand together, taking a deep breath and steepling his fingers because he strongly felt the need to strangle his strong-willed, thick-headed best friend. They weren’t getting anywhere with how everything was going down, so he decided to change tactics.

“And what reason do you think I would lie to you, April? Tell me so I can understand where you’re coming from. Show your work.” 

She scoffed, “Don’t get that tone with me. Kendra told me–”

“Oh, so you’re taking Kendra’s word over mine? Who’s the one who likes her a little too much again?”

April glared at him, and Donatello knew he’d gone a touch too far with that one, maybe even been a little petty. It didn’t help that he heard Leonardo’s instigating ‘ooh’ sound off in the background.

Taking a deep breath, he held his hands out to quell any anger April might have brewing, “Listen, Kendra is a shit-starter on purpose, so I highly doubt that anything she told you is factual in any way.”

And April hated that it took Donatello saying it to realize such a prominent truth. Every time she and Kendra were in the same room, Kendra would try her best to get on her nerves. After seeing April react in jealousy that night in the computer lab, it made sense that she would find amusement in getting a rise out of her. It was a blow to her ego to admit she was wrong, but she wasn't really the type to dig her heels in and stay wrong once she knew the truth.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax, “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that. But you’re trying to tell me you don’t enjoy her a little too much?”

Donatello sighed, shuffling over to April and gently placing his hands against her elbows, thanking the lucky stars that she decided not to shake him off. 

"Kendra is a pretty good classmate. When she actually applies herself and pulls her own weight in a project, she's also a really good partner. She's someone I can somewhat entrust my ingenious plans to, and talk to about tech stuff and have her understand without much explanation. I consider her an acquaintance steadily working toward becoming a friend. But she isn’t someone I’m overly fond of, not in the ways you think. I wouldn’t ever consider her to be on the same level as you. And I don’t think I could develop a crush on someone who can’t make me feel even half the way you make me feel, and Kendra doesn't. You happened to set the bar pretty high, O’Neil.”

There he goes again with the smooth-talking that made April want to melt into a pile of April goop. His eyes never left hers, wide with sincerity, lips pressed tightly together as he nervously waited for her response, hopeful that she'd for once just listen to him, and not whatever devil she had sitting on her shoulder at the time.

He got through to her, finally, but that didn't mean April wasn't going to be annoyed that he easily made her heart skip a beat.

April looked away, hoping he didn’t see how flustered she became, “You could have stood up for me every once in a while at the very least." 

“I did,” he began counting off on his fingers, "Always leaving with you, making sure Kendra didn't pass any inappropriate boundaries, keeping my eyes only on you when they weren't on my work? I never rose to any of her half-baked attempts of fake flirting, either. I don't know what you were looking for, but there was never a moment I wasn't at your side. You just weren't looking for me."

She opened her mouth to rebuttal, but groaned, "Yeah, I suppose you're right." In his own Donatello way.

"Admittedly, I did overlook some signs of irritation from you. I apologize for that. In my defense, I trusted that as my best friend, you'd know better than to let some random person get under your skin about me. However, still, my apologies." 

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the small smile on her face, “It’s just like you to try to put the blame on me while apologizing.”

He smirked with triumph, “Well, you know me.” His hands glided down, persuading April to unfold her arms so he could grab her hands. His smirk softened when he realized how careful she was being with his bruised hand. “You’re the one I treasure the most, April. And the one I want by my side the most. No one would ever be able to replace you. In any way."

April felt like a glass window; leave it to Donatello to understand her worries without her having to outright say it. 

Then a loud gasp rang from the other side of the room.

Donatello tensed, looking at his brother who had gone unacknowledged with alarmed exhaustion on his face, still holding April's hand. "Nardo, listen—"

“Look, Leo–” April started. 

It looked like now was as good a time as any to come clean- 

“Oh my god, I knew it,” Leonardo howled, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “This is perfect, I can’t believe this. I love being right! I can’t wait to tell everyone.” 

Huh. What an unexpected reaction.

Donatello deadpanned, letting go of April’s hands to take a few steps toward his brother, “Tell who exactly, our brothers?”

Leonardo chuckled, waving his phone, “And dad. I’m getting my inheritance early.” 

Donatello’s eyes widened as he took in what Leonardo had said, his mouth floundering before yelling, “Are you telling me you guys made a bet around me!?”

He didn’t even look up from his phone as he addressed Donatello, “I know you’re smart enough to answer that for yourself.” Without another word, he turned towards the door, "Anyways, I gotta go showboat this victory to Micheal, bye!" 

“Leo!”

Donatello leaned against the now closed door, slouching in exhaustion, and April huffed out a laugh. 

“Just when I think this night is going to roll over smoothly, there’s more to add on.” 

"You need one of those serotonin-filled hugs?" She laughed, opening her arms when Donatello rolled his neck towards her. 

Donatello took a deep breath, pouting before slowly turning to her, dragging his feet until he was right in front of her, and dropping his head against her shoulder. 

To say April was shocked was an understatement, but she still wrapped her arms around him, gasping when his arms tightly wrapped around her waist, nuzzling his forehead against her neck with a heavy sigh.

"I wasn't—" she let out a breathy laugh, slowly rubbing Donatello's back, "I wasn't expecting you to actually accept. Do you need that much comfort?" 

"From you right now? Absolutely." 

They were quiet for a moment, just silently holding each other. 

April sighed, "So are you gonna tell me why you punched Dale now? Was it… was it cause of me?"

Donatello couldn't bring himself to even try to come up with a decent lie, so he stayed quiet. Though April was aware of when he was trying to lie by omission. 

"I never meant for it to get like this, Dee." 

Donatello pulled back enough to look at her face to face, frowning as he saw her face scrunch at how upset she was. He placed his forehead against hers as a sign of comfort for a moment, pulling back when he was ready to talk.

"April, it's not your fault—" 

"I should have been born uglier," she sighed, her eyes looking wistfully off to the side, "It's such a curse being beautiful." 

Donatello breathed out a small laugh before he cupped her cheeks gently in his hands, making her face him again. 

"Deflecting with humor is kind of a Leo move, isn't it, April?"

"Yeah," she let out, holding onto his wrists gently. An amused smirk painted across her lips, only bringing more attention to how bare her usually decorated lips were. "You saw right through it, I knew I shouldn't have taken a page out of Leo's book."

"I’ve spent my whole life studying that specific book, so you're right about that."

When April giggled, Donatello felt stuck because he couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty his best friend was at that moment. His eyes scanned her face, the little joy she felt lifted her face, her cheeks felt warm in his hands and he caressed the skin with his thumb. 

“April, can I kiss you?” 

April blinked at him, opening her mouth to answer but shock kept all the words forced in her chest, going unheard under the loud, deafening pounding of her heart. She would like that, to finally be able to press her lips against his after tiptoeing around it for so long, and she knew why she would want to. She just had no idea why Donatello would. 

“We… I wouldn’t mind, but why?”

Donatello would have pulled away from her, thinking he’d made her uncomfortable, but the tightening of April’s hands on his wrist kept him from leaving her altogether. “We don’t have to. I wanted to try.” 

He wanted to try for a plethora of reasons; because he’d been thinking of pressing their lips together since he’d impulsively pressed his lips against her head; because April’s lips were bare of any color or sticky gloss, and he regretted not having anything to do with the fact; because it just felt right to him. 

April’s eyes darted to the door before looking back at him, “You aren’t worried the guys will know?”

His brothers were the last thing on his mind at the moment. Still, he pressed his thumb just under her bottom lip, “You don’t have any lipstick on, so I highly doubt they’ll know.” 

And even if they did, Donatello wouldn’t care at all. 

She smirked, pretending that this whole exchange wasn’t making her into a nervous wreck. April wanted to kiss him, and the fact that Donatello was the one to ask made the whole thing so much better. She felt like she wanted to walk on clouds. However, she knew that the thing between them, whatever territory they were toeing the line of, was temporary and bound to end soon. 

Could she really take this as a good thing, knowing her heart would probably long for more? Could she allow herself to be selfish like that?

“... Okay.” 

She could.

Donatello seemed to have no gripes about unknowingly indulging her in such selfishness. 

He was slow in kissing her, giving her the proper time and space to change her mind, before his lips gently descended on hers. There was no rush in the kiss; theirs was like a slow dance to a soft waltz, getting used to the feel of the pressure of each other. Donatello felt a pleasant buzz run up his spine when April wrapped her hands around him, the buzz following her hands as they made a smooth path up from his sides to his shoulder blades. 

It was chaste and so very sweet that Donatello felt guilty for wanting more.

"Oh, no!" Mikey's voice rang over the music, which decreased significantly in volume since they entered the room. "Raphael's on his way to deliver the hurt!" 

April managed to escape Donatello's intimate hold, putting a slight distance between them, but still had a grip around his wrists. She looked over at the now slightly ajar door right before Raphael comes through, a slightly panicked Mikey right on his tail.

He quickly let out a sigh after seeing Donatello and April, his hand sitting on his chest in relief.

"Donnie," Raphael said, and Donatello cringed at how much it already sounded like a scold. Raphael stalked over, pulling Donatello out of April's weakened embrace and up to his line of sight. "What's all this I hear 'bout you hitting that bald kid?" 

Donatello, his mind too focused on the softness of April's lip and the slight taste of peaches and cream lip balm he tasted when he licked his lips, spoke before he could consider the consequences of his words.

"Who blabbed?" 

Donatello heard April intake a sharp breath, and Michelangelo slapped his own forehead, trying to put on an innocent smile when Raphael turned to him. 

"And you said he didn't hit anyone." 

"Allegedly." 

"And would you stop saying that, Leo wasn’t right when he used it—ugh! Don't distract Raph right now." He said, his attention going back to Donatello. "Listen, we're lucky Leo has enough friends down there that are willing ta' lie for you knuckleheads, but you two have obviously had way too much party time so it's time ta' go." 

Without letting go of Donatello's collar, he directed him to the door, not even giving Michelangelo a passing glance as he pushed him out the door. 

Finally finding some sense about herself now that Donatello wasn’t surrounding her, well, everything, April shook her head, mentally telling herself not to think too deeply about the kiss. Donatello had told her already, he just wanted to try, there was nothing more to it than that.

Donatello was naturally curious, so if not for Kendra’s sake, he’d probably like to understand the dating scene more and figured this was one of the best ways how. If April thought about it long enough, that could give other justifications for his behavior during the bulk of their fake dating. 

She sighed, wondering how long she’d have to try extra hard to keep a healthy distance between her feelings and Donatello’s actions. It wasn’t like it hurt much to do it – she was used to reigning in her active imagination – it was just that April could so quickly drown in Donatello’s flow of life and reason, and that was dangerous. But she was determined to do it.

“Hey!” Raphael was at the door, hands gesturing for April to get a move on, "We're leaving." 

April nodded, taking a deep breath as she exited the room, following the larger man to his car. 

Chapter Text

.o.O.o.

April slept terribly after the party. 

Maybe it was the fact she stayed in her empty dorm room all by herself after her attention's been tossed between some of her favorite people in the world at a party. Maybe it was the shock of walking into her dorm, finding it cold and empty without the warm company of Sunita's presence. 

Maybe it was because she'd spent the night tossing and turning with the memory of Donatello's lips pressed against hers. 

It was stupid of her; that her mind would circle back to that moment despite trying to turn off her brain because she needed to sleep if she wanted to stay awake during their three-hour ride back to New York. (With Leonardo and Michelangelo, she wasn't sure she could actually fall asleep during the ride without the threat of waking to a face full of markers. She couldn't risk it; sharpie and her skin just didn't mix.)

Yet every time she closed her eyes, all she could think of was Donatello asking her for a kiss, and giddiness would wash over her like cold water and she felt the need to jump out of her bed and pace the room. 

It didn't help that Donatello also didn't bring it up anytime after. Not after Raphael finished scolding them and pulled into the McDonald's 24 hours drive-through, or when everyone else was distracted ordering. He didn't say anything about it when he stopped at the building's door; instead, telling her he decided against walking her up this one time just for decency's sake, walking away only after she begrudgingly entered the building without him. 

He didn't say anything during the night, despite April seeing the telltale signs of “Night-time Donatello activities”, which was him sending her different links to YouTube conspiracy videos with an eye roll emoji and the smallest jabs of “get a load of this guy”. Not even when he'd spent a solid five minutes typing, stopping, and typing again before sending her a “g'night” text. 

He didn't even say anything about it when he texted her at the crack of dawn reminding her that the brothers were going to be picking her up at eleven a.m. sharp and to be packed and ready so they could be on the road by noon. 

She’d skimmed through the list of demands he had, knowing that they would go unread by her as well as his brothers. And by that time, April had only an hour or two of sleep under her belt and the confirmation that Donatello would not, in fact, bring it up.

April tried extremely hard not to glare at him when she opened her dorm room door, especially because he immediately went to help her with her box of clothes. Leonardo and Raphael followed, giving her a brief greeting and grabbing anything that looked like April was taking with her. She stood off to the side with her small carry-on filled with a couple of books, her tablet, her chargers, and Donatello Two.

“Good morning, April,” Donatello yawned, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, adjusting the box in his arms before examining her, “You look like you’ve had a night.”

She peeped at the bandage wrapped around his knuckles, cringing just a little despite knowing they were only a little swollen from hitting against Dale’s nasal bone. “So do you, but probably not for the same reason.” She cleared her throat, voice softening as she asked; “You sure your hand’s okay?” 

Balancing the box on one arm, Donatello presented his hand to her, flexing his fingers a bit, “Yeah, it’s fine. Leo looked it over and said so after everything calmed down.” 

Not thinking too much about it, April reached for his hand, turning it over and examining it herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Leonardo’s knowledge of first aid, but she felt the urge to look over him, just so she could see for herself. It also didn’t hurt that his hand just felt nice in hers, the contact causing her more comfort than she thought it would. 

She didn’t need to look up at Donatello to know he was dramatically rolling his eyes, nor did he need to say it.

“Eye roll –” he did anyway, typical. “– While I’m not one to say no to being fawn over–” 

“When it comes to your health, you very much are.” 

“–I would like to remind you that I’m not one to do reckless things like breaking my hand across an idiot's face.”

She chuckled, thumb gently tracing over the ridges of his knuckles, “You threaten to do that to Leo all the time.”

“And yet I never do,” he chuckled, a smirk clear in his voice and the way his form relaxed in his stance, “You know, if you want to make me feel better, you could always ki–”

Within seconds, Donatello tensed, pulling his hand from April’s hold and bending down almost 90 degrees to pick up her carry-on bag. He cleared his throat. “– K-keep better track of time, April, we gotta go.”

“Don’t pick that up with your injured hand! What are you, some kinda moron?” 

He pouted up at her, and April only had a couple of seconds to take in the pinched, almost-embarrassed look on his face. She rolled her eyes, hands on her hips, “What, you’re embarrassed you had a little stutter? I said what I said. Bag down.” 

She acknowledged Leonardo’s snicker as he came in and grabbed another small bag before immediately walking out.

Donatello scoffed, but the bag hit the floor with a slight plop, “I don’t deserve to be treated like a dog, April.” 

She huffed in triumph, grabbing the bag and slinging it over her shoulder, “You’re right; you deserve worst.” 

“She says, carrying her own bag out of the care of my severely damaged and clearly inept nondominant hand.”

She groaned, trying to interrupt both him and the giggle in her throat, “Whatever. Just carry the box, box carrier.” 

“Sure,” he mumbled, laughing when April hit his shoulder before he said anything else. 

“Hey, Apes,” Raphael called, walking over to the biggest box of clothes, “We got most everything out, so you can start heading down to the truck.” His eyes cut to Donatello, “Take the troublemaker with you. Make sure he doesn’t punch anyone else.” 

Donatello huffed out air, “You aren’t this mean to Leo about it,” Donatello was pretty sure Leonardo’s hit on Dale was just as bad as his was. It was no bloody nose, but Dale left the party with a swollen cheek that had Leonardo’s knuckles metaphorically engraved on it. 

His eldest brother crossed his arms, his typical “stern talking to” ready on his lips, but Leonardo walked past with a stack of small boxes in his arms, stating, “Do you not see me doing all this manual labor? The pretty boys don’t do this.” 

Raphael disregarded the latter part of Leonardo’s sentence, “Yeah, what he said. Besides, I expected more outta you, considering you’re the “man with the plan” most of the time. You got no business thinking with your fists like that.”

“So, Leo gets punching privileges, and I don’t for, what? Having a brain?”

“Um, hello!” Leonardo yelled sarcastically from the hallway, somehow knowing when his name was being put into stuff.  “Manual labor!”

“Don’t worry, big guy. I’ll keep an eye on him.” April put on her coat and zipped it up to fair the drop in temperature. After making sure to grab everything, she looked at Donatello with a smirk, "Come on, troubled child, I'll escort you to your carriage." 

He rolled his eyes, equal parts annoyed and amused. "Alright, my night in puffy armor, lead the way." 

It was a little past noon by the time they'd just about finished packing up Raphael's truck. They were just waiting for Raphael to maneuver April's last clothes box, which was a struggling game of Tetris for all of the collegegoers. 

April, Donatello, and Leonardo were forced to the back seat during the ride back to New York as punishment for the trouble they caused at the party. Initially, Michelangelo was subjected to backseat punishment as well, but Leonardo threw April under the bus, saying that technically, she was also in cahoots because she also let the bet happen. Having her critical thinking skills reduced to zero from lack of sleep, April's usual deductive reasoning was no match against Michelangelo's puppy dog eyes, and April had no choice but to take her punishment. 

In Raphael's truck, having to ride in the backseat wasn't much of a punishment, but considering how much stuff they still had, the suitcases and boxes sitting in the backseat with them made the ride only slightly uncomfortable. 

April was too tired to get revenge on Leonardo in any other way than to make him hold her carry-on bag the whole ride. It didn't fit with the rest of the luggage in the trunk, and she was already forced to awkwardly put her feet on some sort of small box, so it was the least he could do. 

He groaned, “I knew one of these days, Donnie thinking ahead was gonna bite us in the ass. I mean, really? Taking his moped home before today and making us carpool with all our stuff?” 

Michelangelo looked back, “Didn’t you leave some stuff at Raph’s place?” 

“Uh, yeah, but we still got a lot of stuff.”

"This is what you get for betraying me," April uttered as she watched him struggle to get comfortable. 

Leonardo just shrugged, maneuvering it on the floor in front of him and awkwardly lifting his leg so his foot pressed against the front passenger seat. An act of petty revenge against Michelangelo, who yelped when Leonardo kicked at it. "Such is life, April. Sometimes you’re betrayed by the ones you love the most.”

“Are you saying Mikey is your favorite?” Donatello asked as he scooted into the car, his shoulder pressing against April’s as he squeezed in the car, putting his carry-on bag on the other side of him.

“Not anymore,” Leonardo sulked. Neither Michelangelo nor Donatello thought much of the statement, knowing he was lying. 

April yawned, glancing at Donatello, “You saying he’s not yours?”

“I’m still debating.” Again, another lie that neither brother cared enough to call out. 

“It’s not my fault you two didn’t appeal to Raph’s better nature like I did,” Michelangelo gloated, kicking his feet on the dashboard, “Maybe learn how to speak his language.” 

“Uh huh, and what language is puppy dog eyes?” Donatello said.

“Uh,” Michelangelo hummed, looking at his hands before folding them behind his head, “Sign language.” 

Donatello leaned closer to April, making her jolt to attention, and whispered, “Yeah, maybe he should go to a different school.” 

“It’s the Leo effect,” April said back, side-eyeing the pouting young man as she slowly blinked her stinging eyes.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You two go to the same school as I do, so what does that say about you two?" 

"I wanted an easy ride?" April questioned.

"I am ahead of my peers," Donatello stated. 

Leonardo clicked his tongue just as Raphael opened the front door, knocking Michelangelo’s feet down, and sat in the car.

"You both suck."

"Stop that," the eldest brother scolded, looking at the backseat passengers with a scowl on his face. Mostly from being disappointed, of course, but a scowl nonetheless. "You're all accomplices in this, so you share the punishment." 

April huffed out a laugh, slugging against the seat as if her energy was slowly being sapped away. To her, it was. "How did you know we were even talking about that?" 

"It's 'cause I know you guys."

"How come Mikey doesn't count as an accomplice?" Leonardo asked. 

Michelangelo smugly opened his mouth to respond, but Raphael shot him a glare before looking back at Leonardo; his face a little more neutral. "He does , but he didn't hit anyone yesterday." 

Donatello adjusted his glasses, "Well, technically, we can't completely cross that possibility off the list–" 

"Donnie," Raphael squinted his eyes at the yammering young man until he looked down at his phone with a huff, before looking at Leonardo again. "Besides." He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head at Donatello and April, who was also not paying attention to him. 

Leonardo clicked his tongue, leaning forward to whisper to his older brother, "I thought I already told you I won the bet." 

"We can't really confirm that yet," Raphael reasoned quietly. He cleared his throat before turning in the driver's seat, starting the car with a twist of his wrist, making the car come to life and immediately blowing warm air into the atmosphere. "Anyways, let's get the thing on the road. Pops is expecting us at home before nightfall.” 

They’d only been driving for about thirty minutes, and April was half tempted to grab Raphael by the shoulders and make him pull into the nearest coffee shop to get herself the largest coffee cup size and fill it to the brim with espresso shots. She would even take some gas station coffee if she was being honest; her eyes stung so much and she felt like slush slowly sinking into quicksand. All in all, like Hell. 

There was no point in stopping though. Raphael had already filled up the tank the night before– he was just responsible like that – and none of the other brothers felt the need to stop, so she didn’t want to be the one to stop them. Especially since the only thing keeping her awake was the dumb, non-prompted worry of getting pranked, which was unserious enough to be laughable.

Her head tipped towards Leonardo before snapping back up. That was her fourth time doing that, and she thanked every god and spirit that would listen that he was too distracted with his phone to pay it any mind. 

She tried looking down at her tablet with a soft, upset chuckle, adjusting her headphones over her head as she looked over her playlists to see which one could keep her up. She knew her tired mind wouldn’t be able to settle on any song she played, but she hoped the search would keep her up. 

Donatello sighed, watching as she slowly blinked at her barely lit screen, her blinking reminiscing of frogs. 

He also had terrible sleep the night before, but he was used to operating on limited sleep. He knew for a fact that his best friend wasn’t, even without her jolting herself awake every few seconds. He didn’t know what had kept the young woman from sleeping, but the sight of her struggling to keep herself away made him want to take care of her. Much deeper than when they were kids and he vowed to make her see her birthday wasn’t cursed, and right alongside the protectiveness and fire that appeared when Dale stressed her out so bad she cried. 

Was this how she felt when he’d let himself self-destruct during finals? He didn’t think the single cupcake he got for her was enough of a reward all of a sudden. 

He put his headphones on as well, scrolling down his list of playlists until he found the one he was looking for. The playlist was filled with songs that had slow melodies, the voice of the singers so low and soft that it almost felt like poems and lullabies. It was untitled, only about two months old, purposefully hidden among the rest of his playlists because he wasn’t ready to unpack why he felt the need to collect all of them when they seemed to have a very distinct, singular theme. 

He shook his head, pressing the share button before he had time for the embarrassment to settle.

Besides, he could convince himself that April was tired enough that she wouldn’t see a need in unpacking any hidden meaning that he himself wasn’t ready to.

He looked over as her hand paused from scrolling, the notification box popping up just under her finger, and she looked at him. He nodded to it, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible about it. 

April shrugged, clicking the link, exiting her music app to find a game to play. She didn’t look at the song list, nor did she ask him what genre most of the music was. 

Donatello felt his heart speed up at the display of complete trust April showed him, even with something as small as music selection. 

She shouldn’t have, considering he’d planned to have her out like a light within two specific three-minute songs, but Donatello reveled in it nonetheless. 

She started dozing off during the third song, shoulders relaxing, head leaning back as her tablet tilted out of her hands. When she finally fell asleep at the start of the fourth song, Leonardo reached out to grab the tablet that’d slipped from her fingers just as Donatello tilted his shoulder when she’d fallen against it so she wouldn’t hit any bone.

He adjusted her, trying to make her nap as comfortable as possible. 

Donatello glared at Leonardo as he laughed against his hand. He freed one of his ears from his headphone, watching his twin closely to make sure he didn’t reach into one of the bags to grab a marker. “Don’t even think about it, Nardo.” 

Leonardo lifted his hands in defeat, but not in the way his twin thought he was. “Oh, I am quite innocent this time, mis hermano–” 

Out of the corner of Donatello’s eye, he noticed a flash, looking forward and seeing Michelangelo looking at him with the widest shit-eating grin on his face.

His phone pointed at the pair, adjusting it just a bit before looking up at the subject. The youngest had no look of shame or guilt on his face as another flash went off. 

“– But Angelo here is another story.” 

“Oh Raph,” Donatello hissed, already feeling his face warm as he felt his phone vibrate, knowing his little mischief-maker little brother didn’t hesitate to send the picture he’d taken to the family group chat. “Would you mind controlling your little brother, please?” 

He tilted his head to look into the driver's seat, mentally cursing when April shifted a little in her sleep. He realized how badly he trapped himself when he moved back to where he was initially for her comfort. He hoped the scowl on his face at Michelangelo and Leonardo’s chuckling was enough to make them overlook the flush that was no doubt spreading across his cheeks. 

It didn’t, and they cooed at him. They teased him, said he’d gone soft, and even though April had implied the same not too long ago, the offense felt more acceptable falling from her lips. 

He looked at the rearview mirror, making eye contact with Raphael, and took note of the guilt in his eyes. He glared at the elder, realizing he had no intention of reprimanding the two, probably getting his own amount of enjoyment from it as well. 

“It really be your own people,” he growled. 

“I’m sure it’s a really nice picture, Donnie,” he reasoned nicely. Only for a second though, because he also started to chuckle as he returned his eyes to the road, “I can’t wait to see it when we finally get home.” Then, he barked out a laugh so loud that it caused his other back-stabbing brothers to join in. 

Despite the embarrassment, Donatello felt no shame when he flopped back against his seat, and April sighed into the fabric of his sweater. As much as his pride would kill him for thinking this, he felt like he could bear the embarrassment of his brothers if April was anywhere near him. 

.o.O.o.

Even though the drive was a mere three hours, the group didn’t make it back into New York city limits until almost five in the afternoon, just as the sun hid behind the horizon. They’d taken all of April’s luggage to her mother’s house where they all gained the knowledge that tomorrow, April and her mother would be taking a week-long vacation to Colorado to stay at a ski resort with her aunt. 

Donatello was particularly upset by this because that meant April could only spend enough time at their house for them to put away their luggage and maybe a couple of hours after, and his father had plans to steal her away for most of it, he was sure.

“You boys need to focus on putting your stuff away, first! Distractions come later,” he’d said while leading April to the living room with the promise of tea and a black cat to sit on her lap if he felt friendly enough to meet his own Godmother. 

Maybe Donatello wouldn’t be so upset if April hadn’t gone with him so easily. The least she could have done was spend a little time with him while he folded shirts and pants and jackets away and complained about the impromptu trip she was taking with her mom and her aunt to a ski resort some hours away in Colorado. 

How could he blame her, though? Her dear reporter's heart loved hearing stories of the ex-action movie star that went so under the radar that he hears accounts about his own death every few months on Facebook and Twitter. Even without the need to exploit his story for money or fame, the story of Hamato Yoshi, famously known as Lou Jitsu to the public, and infamously known as Splinter only to those he deemed close enough to consider family was interesting to hear. 

Today, for some reason, he really wanted to talk about the long – and he meant long - list of lovers and relationships he’d been a part of during his “wilder days.” 

Not that this topic hadn’t come up before; Splinter had a habit of leaving bits and pieces of the life he lived before having his sons during his long tangents and quick lessons. He was a professional at saying so much, and yet nothing at all that always left whoever was listening on the edge of their seat, right before he ended the conversation. And April found herself in those metaphorical seats more times than not.

However, it was the first time that he was also interested in whatever details April could volunteer about her own love life. 

April let out a laugh when Splinter raised a curious eyebrow at her, (not so) subtly eyeing her when he hinted at a flame that had his head filled with nothing but hearts for the recipient. 

“You’re looking for a confession that isn’t there, Splints. I don’t know what to tell you,” she deadpanned, although thoroughly amused. 

He squinted at her, “So, you’re telling me that you’ve never been so into someone that you can’t help but get super soft about them, and your heart looks at them with goo-goo crazy eyes?” He gave her an example and then had the gulls to look upset when her laughing didn’t stop. “What? I know you know what I’m talking about.”

She did; in fact, she had the perfect example of that in the shape of his middle, creatively smart son, but she couldn’t tell him that. Especially when April wasn’t sure how to go about telling him. 

Donatello had only denounced affection for Kendra at the party, but in April’s mind, that was neither here nor there when deciding if he was alright with his family considering them dating. They still hadn’t told the brothers about their arrangement, so April didn’t think telling his father - who was so far away from the Dale issue that he didn't understand why Donatello chuckled at the tune of Calliou - was necessary in any way, shape, or form. Besides, it added nothing considering they were going to end it probably very soon. 

Splinter, on the other hand, had already been made privy to most of the situation by his tattle-telling, gloat of a winner son, and was trying to press April for more information. He was also in on the bet; it wasn't fair that most of the update on Donatello's love life was coming from his competitors. He wanted to hear it from one of the horses' mouths. 

He just couldn’t understand why she was being so tight-lipped about the whole thing, but could only conclude that it was definitely Donatello’s fault. 

It could just be embarrassment on his son's part. Splinter remembered back when his son was in junior high, upset about April being a freshman before him, and complained almost endlessly about being left behind. All of his rants and verbal rampages boiled down to a bigger issue. Even though Donatello was the most tight-lipped child on the surface, he was open about his feelings in code. Splinter and his sons joked about Donatello’s clear crush on April – because really, no childhood best friend should care that much about which boy his friend wants to kiss and be so deeply offended that it wasn’t him – but maybe that was what deterred him from talking about it with them. 

Then again, it might also just be the Hamato blood pumping in his veins that made him want to stick to his guns, considering he’d spent so many years denying the truth. Splinter could understand that. That’s why even after all this time, his dating pool remained a mystery to his sons for the most part. 

Which is something he honestly wouldn't mind changing if any of his sons stepped up and wanted to talk to him about it. This is what he gets for deeming his sons unmarriable so early; romance talk was apparently off the table. 

April’s excited gasp bought Splinter out of his thoughts. She cooed as she scooped up a pudgy, black cat, sitting it in her lap. “Aww, hey there, Shelly, did you miss me?” 

“You let him get so fat, dad.” Called from being them. 

They both turned to the doorway to see Donatello walking in, pocketing his phone that no doubt now held at least thirty new pictures of his “son”. 

"Aht aht, actually, you're to blame for thinking Orange and I were going to keep up with your tight and very precise feeding schedule." 

"Yeah!" Michelangelo yelled as he walked through the room with a handful of snacks. He was heading to his room, so the healthy conclusion was that he had a project he wanted to finish. "Sheldon eats when we eat!" 

"What is that? All the time?" 

“I don’t know,” April said, bouncing the cat on her lap like a baby, “I think he’s good like this. He’s friend shaped.”

Donatello scoffed, but it didn’t have as much bite in it. “It’s not bad, but I did put him on a set schedule and you guys ruined it! I bet you didn’t even take him in for a check-up when he gained all this weight.” 

Splinter waved him off, leaning back in his seat as Donatello deliberately sat in between them on the couch. He would raise an eyebrow at his son's positioning, but Michelangelo had already sent him their car ride picture. 

Donatello loved his father and his best friend. It made sense he would want to be between them both. 

"Don't worry, Purple, your boy is as healthy as they come. I take him to the vet whenever he gets sick." 

Donatello's mouth pinched at the color-coding nickname, cheeks warming just a bit at the childhood epithet. (Or maybe it was because of the care he’d given his son’s son. He’s healthy though; Splinter’s done this parenting thing four times. He knows what he’s doing.)

Although Splinter knew Donatello had no problem with the name on most occasions, when his eyes traveled back to April before sighing, he could understand why the boy would glare at him. 

The name originated back in their younger days when the boys were infatuated with the idea of ninjas due to Splinter’s glory days on screen. Tossing words and colors into Google translate and taking many 'What Japanese Name Suits You?' online so they could add authenticity to their ninja game. When they'd brought the names to Splinter, it wasn't hard for him to translate the names they'd gotten into English, giving them the proper pronunciations even though he was a bit out of practice with his Japanese. 

He'd made a habit of switching between the Japanese word and the English color, but it still endeared him that his sons took a step in somewhat embracing his culture, even unknowingly, so of course the names stuck. 

Splinter knew Donatello didn't hate the name, had even loved it, but there was just something about childhood nicknames that were just embarrassing. And in front of someone's crush, it probably felt downright mortifying. 

Although, it wasn't as if April hadn't heard them before. Once upon a time, she'd even called him 'Sumire' during a 'rescue' she'd enacted where her precious, ninja friend was abducted by samurai. The playtime had ended with Donatello pledging pretend loyalty and absolute devotion to the young girl.

Splinter let out a chuckle at the irony as he unpaused his show, tuning out the rambling of his son about proper eating etiquette and vet visitations.

It wasn't lost on him that April was listening to the rant in total, cutting in only after Donatello started wrapping up. She came to Splinter's defense, gently pressing against Sheldon's toe beans as she spoke, and Donatello immediately folded. Even though he still argued and Splinter couldn't see his face, Donatello's voice had less conviction, as if he wasn't trying to convince April of anything, but simply needed to say his piece just because he knew she'd hear it.

And April listened. Her eyes locked on him with a small smile on her face as she absentmindedly swish-swashed Sheldon's arms. 

Splinter's show immediately took a backseat to the soft, domestic scene happening in front of him, but for once, he didn't mind. He resided himself to watching reruns anyways, preparing for when his sons and extended daughter returned; in case whatever shenanigans they wanted to pull would whisk him away from the television. 

"Dad?" 

Once again pulled from his thoughts, Splinter saw Donatello and April glancing at him expectantly. He noticed Donatello hooked one of his ankles with April's, but his eyes were pulled back to their wanting faces.

Oh boy, "Yes, my son?" 

He clapped his hands together, "I know how much you love your shows, but could we use the TV and watch a movie, please." 

Splinter looked between the two of them. "Just the two of you together?" Splinter was a generous man, but if Donatello thought he would be put out of his own living room for a couple of doting young adults–

"N-no!" He stuttered out, not even looking back when Sheldon roared a meow and pawed at his back. Probably because he knew his face was getting warm. "All of us. As a family thing." 

Splinter huffed out a smile, "I don't see why not-"

"Aw, sweet, movie night!" Leonardo cried from the doorway. He rushed over to the stairs, yelling, "Mikey! Grab Raph! We're doing movies in the living room!" 

Splinter heard a muted "Fuck yeah!" from his youngest, and blinked a few times as he realized his youngest child was old enough to use swear words. Wow. He really was getting older.  

Donatello rolled his eyes when Leonardo walked into the room, looking at his father absolutely scandalized. 

"Drop it, Nardo, he's not gonna call it." 

Leonardo smacked his lips, hands on his hips as if he was ready to scold. "If that was me, you would have thrown the remote." 

Splinter shrugged. "Not true. I wouldn't have thrown the remote." 

Leonardo threw his hands out at Donatello, who once again rolled his eyes. 

"Youngest siblings," he hissed half-heartedly, shaking his head.

"To be fair," April added, settling Sheldon back on her lap, "Mikey isn't exactly in remote throwing distance." 

Splinter let out a triumphed huff, "Thank you, April." 

"Silence, only child," both twins let out, aiming a pointed glare at the young woman. She stuck her tongue out at both of them, but the laugh they all let out showed no real ill well. 

The rest of his sons quickly gathered in the room; Leonardo leaning against him on the armrest of the couch, not moving even when Splinter jokingly swatted at him; Raphael sat on the floor in front of them, his muscular back pressing against his and Donatello's leg; Michelangelo sat next to the eldest, though it was more accurate to say he laid next to him, the top of his head touching Raphael's knee. 

During the movie – some random Christmas movie that everyone was being funnily critical of – Donatello slouched on the couch, letting his head lean over to April's shoulder. There were some moments during the movie where he would whisper something to April, who would giggle something back in response. Donatello would press his laughter into her shoulder, trying to keep himself quiet as April shushed him. Though her laughter needed just as much shushing as he did. 

Splinter looked at Leonardo, who was already looking at him with a smug look on his face.

Although he could see a little piece of himself in all of his boys, Leonardo happened to be the actual embodiment of his sense of pride and glory, so he already knew what prompted the look on his son’s face. 

Taking a look at Raphael and Michelangelo, they both looked back at their brother’s glowing face, both looking just as tired of his self-satisfied smirk as the last time he was right about something. 

Splinter let out a chuckle. He didn’t have any brothers growing up, but the boastful behavior was almost a perfect copy and paste of how he would have been given the opportunity.

"You, my son, are a sore loser." 

.o.O.o.

It was close to nine at night when April’s mom called her and sarcastically asked if she was planning on skipping the trip altogether, and Raphael had already grabbed the keys to his truck before she could even ask him to. 

Donatello jumped at the chance to take her at first, saying they could take his moped, but Leonardo quickly reminded him that they still had April's carry-on, and there was no way they would have a comfortable ride with that thing with them. Michelangelo also supplemented that it had also started snowing about an hour or two ago, so there was no way his light moped would fare well in that kind of weather. Then, Splinter expressed concern about how dangerous driving in the snow could be, especially because it's supposed to really come down. 

Raphael could only describe Donatello’s actions after he’d gotten the news as sulking, so he invited him along as well. It wasn’t like Raphael minded the company of his brother and their friend after all.

He was a bit confused when they piled in the car, and Donatello insisted on sitting in the back with April instead of taking the front seat. Then again, Raphael never doubted Donatello’s ability to always find his way to April’s side – it was the one constant in their dynamic. 

“So,” Raphael hummed as they began their eighteen-minute trip, “A ski resort, huh? You must be excited, April.” 

April nodded, “It was a little last minute, but I’m excited about it! It’s been a while since mom and I got to see my aunt, and it’s really cool she invited us.” 

“While I’m personally not into last-minute trips,” Donatello bragged, flipping a hand, “I do hope you have a fun time, April.” 

Raphael looked in the rearview mirror for a second, noticing April take his hand in hers, bringing it out of the air and against the space between them. He wasn’t sure if she let it go, but he’d put money that she didn’t.

“You’re just jealous you aren’t going. I bet you’d love skiing.” 

“I do, but I’m definitely not jealous.”

“Right,” she hummed, “Just bitter.” 

“Um, scoff! Not in this lifetime, little miss.” 

The pause in their conversation was so she could roll her eyes, but she leaned forward so she could include Raphael in it. “Anyways, I’ll bring y’all back some souvenirs. Anything, in particular, you’d want?”

“Ohh, anything you’d think I like?” Raphael cooed, “You’ve been pretty good at guessing the last couple of trips.” 

She flopped against the seat with a soft smile on her face, “Gotcha, whatever cute mascot bear they have at the gift shop.”

Yep, she was getting so good at getting souvenirs for him.

She looked over at Donatello and smirked, “I’ll get you a keychain.” 

“You’ll rue the day.” 

April and Raphael laughed, and Donatello was alright with letting a small chuckle out, letting them both know he was just as amused at the two of them. He readjusted April’s hand in his, squeezing a little when he noticed how cold the tips of her fingers were. He slowly massaged the tips of her cold fingers, briefly worrying about how she was going to stay warm during the winter at a ski resort without him there to warm her fingers.

“What’s got you sighing like that, Donnie?” Raphael asked, glancing at him through the rearview mirror again. 

“Nothing,” he asked just a second too quickly because he could see April raise an eyebrow at him. “Actually, it’s a bit cold. Can we increase the heat just a smidge?” 

“Yeah, sure thing.” Not needing to be told twice, Raphael adjusted the heat settings to what he knew to be Donatello’s comfort level. Though, Donatello managed to shock him, directing him to adjust it differently, ending up moreso how April would usually adjust the heat. 

When they pulled up to a red light, Raphael hid his mushy smile in his hand just in case the two leaned forward to look at him. Had it been anyone else, they wouldn’t have noticed They probably wouldn’t have even cared, but Raphael knew how particular Donatello was about how hot or cold the vehicle he was in got. He also knew that April’s particular warm level toed the line of what Donatello deemed “too warm”.

It was the small details that meant the most. 

When they finally made it to April’s mom’s house, Donatello insisted on walking her to the door. He jumped out of the car, grabbing the carry-on bag April had with her for the day before she had the chance to grab it. He walked to Raphael’s window and tapped the top of his car gently. “Mr. Uber, keep my tab open for me.” 

Raphael scowled at him, “Get away from my truck.” 

Donatello chuckled, turning away from the vehicle and stopping at April’s side. He waved a hand toward the house as if he was trying to wave her down the path.

She rolled her eyes but made a show of taking a large step ahead of him. She kept her hands in her coat pockets, just so she didn’t get any ideas, and tried to take his hand. Even with the snow starting to fall, April wasn’t sure that Raphael couldn’t see them as they walked, so she wasn’t taking any chances. 

Which was fair, considering Raphael could see them well enough from his parked position.

He watched Donatello practically stand guard over her as April unlocked her door, and she burst out in laughter at whatever he said to her. 

He watched as Donatello handed her the carry-on, grabbing hold of April’s wrist when he handed it to her. Raphael couldn’t understand what they were saying, they were too far away and the loud roar of the heat didn’t do him any favors. April’s back was turned to him, so he couldn’t even read her lips even if he had the skill, but Donatello’s expression was on full display. 

It was a soft, love-stricken expression. His smile was small yet lacked any of his usual smugness as he tilted his head down, eyes full of only April as she talked to him. He looked way too comfortable holding a vulnerability that his brothers have only seen on rare occasions. 

The moment felt soft, and intimate, even to an outsider, and Raphael couldn’t help but look away from it.  As if him just looking at it was intrusive. 

When he looked back, they were hugging. 

Donatello all but curled around the smaller woman, hunched over like a candy cane as he let April embrace him. He’d pulled her slightly to the tips of her toes, holding on tightly before letting go with a sigh. His face squashed against the fabric of her coat, holding her as if he would never see her again, but he knew it was just him being dramatic. 

He whispered his goodbye against her neck, and April whispered one back into the fabric of his suede coat. 

She pulled back, smiling widely at him and patting his cheeks with her cold hands. She giggled when he jolted from the temperature difference. “I’ll see you in a week, okay?” 

He nodded slowly.

When Donatello sat in the front seat, he leaned back in a slight daze. 

He definitely wished she had kissed him, right? The pounding of his heart, the sweatiness of his palms, and the sudden awareness of how warm his lips felt against the cold winds were proof of that. He figured she had no need to, but he really wished he’d thought up something to merit it. Wished he could have found his voice to ask for one, but she was in the house before he realized it. 

His hope made his reflexes slow and him stupid. 

Raphael humming to the song on the radio was the only thing he could focus on that wouldn’t send him back into April Land.

“Hey, you wanna talk about it, buddy?” Raphael asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Whatever's got you thinking so loud over there. Got me a little curious.”

Donatello considered saying nothing. He was trying not to think too deeply on it now, talking about it with Raphael would do the opposite of that. However, he couldn’t help the sudden pull he had to spill his guts to the oversized sweetheart. 

“I…” he sighed, pressing his head against the window. The difference in temperature between the glass and his face was almost a cause for worry. “My brain’s gone all mushy, Raph.” 

“Our brainy guy? With a brain of mush? And how would that happen?”

April’s name was on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t sure how ready he was to unpack that just yet. 

He closed his eyes, “Your guess is as good as mine, brother.” 

Raphael was silent, nodding slightly as he softly let out a breath of air. 

He wasn’t usually a thinking guy, he usually left that to his science-y, book-smart brother. But in a moment like this, he realized that Donatello was just as capable as the rest of them to stop thinking. Maybe even be afraid to think. Just every once in a while. 

But love in any capacity was scary sometimes. Raphael knew that well enough.

“I think my guess might be a little better than yours this time.”

.o.O.o.

It was two days before Donatello mentioned anything about April. 

He’d spent most of the time readjusting to life living with his brothers, his dad, and his cat again. Being rudely woken up in the morning and inconvenienced by Sheldon, somehow always fighting to withhold his snacks, having the bathroom become a personal space shared with four other bodies instead of it being a public space shared with multiple – still debating if that was a pro or a con. It was a bit of a doozy to get used to.

But they’d all managed to get it together by the time they were supposed to put all their presents under the tree. 

They’d all hidden theirs in their rooms until now, having wrapped and labeled them with their own unique wraps and colored labels. Raphael’s gifts were wrapped in a red Peanut themed wrapping (and Donatello laughed about it, confusing his brothers, but he knew April would have known why) and his labels were white; Leonardo’s gifts were wrapped in a blue-green sequin wrapping and his labels were bright red; Michelangelo’s gifts were wrapped in a funky wrapping paper, illustrations of dinosaurs, candy canes, and pizza slices, and his labels were yellow; and Donatello’s gifts were wrapped in brown, retro-styled paper with Christmas lights decorated on it and his labels were lavender. 

As a tradition, Splinter wouldn’t be putting his gifts under the tree until Christmas eve, when he was sure his sons didn’t find the need to peep at what he’d gotten them. Unfortunately, he was correct in doing so, considering that even as his sons grew older, the mischievousness of ruining their holiday surprise never lessened. 

Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Raphael were busy organizing the boxes by size so they could pass them to Donatello, whose job it was to try to strategically put them all under the tree in a way that made sense. The job switched for each brother yearly, and it was finally his turn that year to organize. 

“Hey, what’s this?” Leonardo asked, looking away from the phone scene after analyzing the photo he'd just taken. He reached over and picked something up.  

In his hand was a small box wrapped in none of their personalized wrapping paper. The paper was mint green and had a golden bow on top of it. There was no label on it, no scribble of a name in sharper either. All in all, it was fancy and looked completely out of place sitting at the edge of the rest of the gifts near the tree.

Michelangelo took it out of his hand, shaking it near his ear and observing it with a confused look on his face. It made no noise at all. “Maybe it’s dad’s?”

“Let Raph take a look,” Said man took the box from his brother, looking over the precise folding on it. “It’s too early for one of his gag gifts, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Michelangelo agreed, “Plus, his wrapping paper is polka dot this year.” 

“Hey,” Donatello groaned from the other side of the tall tree, “How come no one is handing me any more gifts?”

“Cause we got a loose gift over here,” Leonardo reported. He grabbed it from Raphael and held it over his head so Donatello could peek over the side of the tree and look at it. 

The three brothers looked over with a start when Donatello fell against the tree, knocking down a few ornaments as he scurried to all but snatch the small box from Leonardo. 

Donatello pulled his glasses from the top of his head and scanned the box. “Did any of you open it? Is it intact?”

Michelangelo looked at Raphael, who shrugged. “Uh, you’re looking straight at it.” 

“So, I take it that one’s one of yours?” Leonardo asked, amused as Donatello carefully pocketed the gift. Leonardo assumed he’s be taking it back to his room. “You know, papa isn’t going to love the favoritism treatment you’re giving him by specially wrapping an extra present for him.” 

“Donald,” Michelangelo said in disappointment, “Would you really stoop so low?” 

“Hey now,” Raphael said, placing his hands on the two accursed brothers’ shoulders, “Let’s give him a chance to defend himself. It’s probably not as bad as we think it is.” 

Leonardo raised an eyebrow, “Donnie.”

Michelangelo did the same, “Donnie.” 

Donatello glared, “I hate it when you two do that.” None of them rose to the comment like he wanted to, and he looked off with a whisper. 

Raphael spoke before the two instigators could, “You’re gonna have to speak up–”

“I said it’s for April, okay?”

Donatello continued to look away from his brothers until he just couldn’t take the silence anymore. He looked toward them, scowl deep on his face in preparation for whatever they were doing.

All three of them wore the same telling smirk on their faces, and Donatello flushed as they aimed their looks at him. 

“Oh, shut the hell up!”

They all spoke at the same time;

“Hey, we aren’t saying anything,” Raphael cooed, trying to be comforting even as the satisfaction was clear on his face.

“We’re more than ready to hear you out whenever you want to, Donnie,” Michelangelo jabbered, somewhat equal parts comforting and annoying.

“Just let us know when you’re ready to hear the truth, Donton,” Leonardo proclaimed, amusement somehow coexisting with genuine concern for Donatello’s wellbeing. 

“You guys! Are so annoying!” He yelled. He glanced over his shoulder for signs of his father before plopping down in front of his brothers. He inhaled deeply through his nose, forehead falling into his hand as he exhaled. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing anymore.” 

The three brothers looked at each other as Donatello refused to lift his head from his hand, surprised at the admission as well as the fact it didn’t take much probing for it. Whatever it was he wanted to talk about, had to have been bouncing around in his head for a while.

Raphael was the first to speak. 

“Donnie? You wanna tell us what’s going on?” 

“I just– you guys know that ‘you ever seen a girl so beautiful you cried’ meme?” He didn’t give them the chance to answer, “Well, in as few words as possible, I’ve been feeling that way about April for a month or so and while I’m usually better at compartmentalizing those feelings–”

“Neglecting,” Michelangelo intersected.

“– Semantics; they only seem to get worse as the days go on. I’m not sure why and, as hard as I try to wrap my mind around it, I can’t figure it out either. We've been best friends and super close this whole time. And at first, I didn’t think it was weird to think about your best friend as much as I have – April means a lot to me after all – but now I can't seem to fully wrap my head around anything that isn't about her."

Leonardo side-eyed Raphael, sighing fondly yet exasperated at his smarty-pants brother’s lack of critical thinking skills about his own feelings. 

"Look at it like this, Donnie," Leonardo sighed, putting his phone down and giving Donatello his undivided attention, "You punched a guy in the face defending April's honor, even though you know she wouldn't like it. And also she could have handled it herself once the lie got to her, but you didn't. Why?"

Donatello scowled, tensing as he felt himself about to lie. "I–" 

"You know, Don. I know you know." 

Raphael gave him a warming smile, trying to butter him up into being more honest with them. While Raphael could luck up on the right words to say when it came to Donatello’s inventions, he wasn’t sure if the same absent-minded words would work with romance. 

Michelangelo tilted his head, scratching the back of his head. He was a bit confused why the other two were still beating around the bush about it. “Well, it’s ‘cause you like her, isn’t it?” 

Raphael and Leonardo looked at their youngest brother, eyes wide and slightly panicked as they both yelled, "Mikey!" with varied levels of disbelief. 

Michelangelo looked between the two, confused, "What? Are we still not allowed to say anything about it? We already agreed Leonardo won the bet!" He shot his arms out to Leonardo, who shrugged with a smirk. 

Raphael scoffed, "No, no, we haven't decided that all the way just yet." 

Donatello lifted his head from his hand, depositing his chin in his palm as he aimed his unimpressed stare at his brothers. "Ah, yes. The bet you all placed on my love life. I'd hate to burst your bubble – oh who am I kidding, I would love to do just that – April and I aren't together… in that sense." 

The latter part of his sentence sounded a bit forlorn, almost as if he regretted having to say it. Unfortunately for him, it was drowned out by Raphael clicking his tongue and Leonardo's obnoxiously loud, singular: "Ha!"

Raphael groaned lowly, slapping Leonardo's hand out of his face when the younger pointed it at him, "This doesn't mean you won the bet, Leo!" 

Leonardo danced in place, "Maybe not, but this means you definitely lost, which is still a win for me." 

Michelangelo hummed, checking his imaginary clock, "Huh, looks like it's "Leo’s currently pushing his luck" O'clock." 

"He has extra time to spare because it's the holiday," Donatello replied. 

"But you do like her, don't you?" 

Everyone else in the room jolted back to attention when Michelangelo brought the subject back up. 

Raphael attempted to placate Michelangelo's question, saying Donatello would answer that in his own time and give him space. Leonardo, ever observant of the state of being of his brothers, wasn't so sure of that but did also warn the youngest about pushing the issue. 

Donatello's back straightened, and he took a deep breath to will himself to be as honest and open with him as he was at the party. He’d started thinking about the underlying feelings he’d had for April then and was interrupted, but he was determined to get to the bottom of what all of it meant. 

Except, as embarrassing as it is to acknowledge, Donatello didn't figure out that level of introspection Michelangelo was asking of him just yet. 

"And just where did you get that information, Micheal?" 

Michelangelo rolled his eyes, "Uh, you? 'Cause, you kissed her at the party?" 

Silence. 

Everyone looked at Michelangelo with wide eyes. Raphael and Leonardo looked with various levels of disbelief; the truth stealing away any type of quirk or joke Leonardo could make. 

The eldest two slowly looked at Donatello. 

His face quickly developed a warm, berry color, and his mouth flapped open and shut but the words choked on their way out. He looked like he was caught red-handed. And he was. 

“Oh, sorry," Michelangelo rubbed the back of his neck, and to his merit, he actually looked as guilty as he felt. Though how truly guilty he was would always be a mystery to the rest of his brothers. “I didn’t know that was a secret.”

Donatello didn’t answer. He didn’t know how. 

Sure, at the moment when he asked April to kiss him, it was easy for him the disregard how his brothers would react to it, but now that he was actually living in it, he felt self-consciousness wrap around the frontal lobe of his brain. He wondered just how Michelangelo would have known–

Then he remembered. The ajar door, Michelangelo’s loud call of Raphael’s arrival, the relieved look he had when he’d seen him and April separated instead of falling into each other’s arms; the little sneak knew a lot more than Donatello thought he did. 

Donatello slowly stood up, dusted himself off, and gave his brothers as somber of a look as he could muster. 

“I’ve decided this is no longer a safe space, and will now be taking my leave.” 

Despite Raphael and Michelangelo calling after him, Donatello decided that Leonardo’s barks of laughter were enough to keep his legs moving. When he made it to his room, he closed the door with a slam. 

Raphael facepalmed, “Leo,” he scolded, just as the young man laughing subsided. 

His hands went up in defense, "What? Mikey did it!" 

Raphael sighed, "Sorry; force of habit. Mikey!" 

"Hey, hey, I wasn't kidding when I asked if it was a secret! I didn't know." Then again, calling it out so clearly just because it was prompted probably wasn’t the way to go.

Once again, Raphael fell victim to Michelangelo's puppy eyes, but he'd mentally reminded himself to force the younger to make some of Donatello's favorite desserts as an apology. Especially the more complex ones. 

Leonard got up from his seat, carefully yet messily putting the rest of the presents under the tree. He picked up the ornaments that Donatello knocked over with a chuckle. 

“Oh, boy, does he have it bad, or what?”

"Yeah, definitely."

"Embarrassingly so." 

.o.O.o.

Five days into his April-less vacation, Donatello started wondering if maybe he should have just called her more. 

They'd texted throughout the day, sending random pictures to each other, but no real conversation happened. It wasn't that Donatello minded much. He wanted her to have fun with her family, just like she did with him and his. There was just a small part of him that wished they were more available to talk. 

He laid in bed, Sheldon sitting on his chest as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. He looked at the clock; it was just after ten at night. 

The dark purple and dark decor of his bedroom did wonders at making it seem later than it actually was, especially with the blackout curtains blocking the streetlights from invading the space. He considered turning on the LED lights lining the corners of the walls because while his gaming PC and keyboard did set an aesthetically pleasing scene in its corner, the lights weren't bright enough to illuminate the whole room. The video game lofi playlist on TV he attached to the wall lowly played in the background, and he wondered if some green lighting would make the whole forestry vibe come to life. 

Some more greenery in here wouldn’t kill him actually. 

He scratched Sheldon’s chin, “I could probably convince dad to let me have some plants in here if you promised not to eat them.” 

Sheldon let out a silvery meow, and Donatello pursed his lips. They’d probably have to be plants that were pretty hands-off though since he’d be at college considering it’d just be Sheldon and his father. 

He wondered how April would appreciate the increase of flowery in the room; she always did have an eye for flowers.

Donatello's head plopped against his pillow with a sigh. He wasn't tired but he considered making himself sleep, just so the days would pass sooner. He was seconds away from rolling over to put his phone in charge when he got a text from April, and a picture to boot. 

It was in a cabin, the warm color of the atmosphere made him think there was a fireplace nearby. The setting looked nice and cozy, the snowy terrain peeking in through the window, letting Donatello infer that it was warm inside and they were all safe. The subject, however, wasn't April, but Donatello Two, wrapped loosely in an emerald green blanket and a cup of warm hot chocolate sat in front of it. 

April [22:10] look at this, ur namesake has been living it up here

Donatello must have taken too long to respond, absolutely frozen at the idea that of all the things April would take with her on her trip, it was that abomination of a stuffed toy. 

April [22:14] the beauty of donnie 2's vacay must have left u speechless

me [22:15] you continue to insult me by attaching my name to such a thing.

April [22:15] donnie how culd u be so mean to him, u hnstly look just like him frfr :/

me [22:15] scoff, you need your prescriptions filled again, O'Neil.

The small interaction made him smile, and Donatello felt like it could tie him over for the next two days. But then, April messaged him a handful of times. 

April [22:17] ur so rude to donnie 2 but ur the reason hes here i hope u know

April [22:17] hes practically ur godchild and u treat him lik this?? im taking sheldon in my custody wen i get back

me [22:19] Excuse you? Custody of my son? In this economy?

April [22:20] callin me a broke college student gets u nowher

Donatello smirked, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. He suddenly had a burst of energy he didn’t have before. April just had that effect on him. 

me [22:23] How dare you imply that my arguing skills are so low that I would resort to name calling. I am a man of honor. Of great prestige. You disgrace me, April O'Neil. And to think I called you a partner in arms. 

April [22:24] k pack it up shakespeare uve never called me that u liar 

April [22:24] put my new son on the fone I know he misses me 

Donatello scoffed before chucking. He knew if April was next to him, she'd be aiming the most annoyingly satisfied grin on her face. 

They continued to go back and forth arguing about false custody of the cat currently purring up a storm on Donatello's lap. 

“What?” Donatello said, amused, “You’re on her side or something?” 

He couldn’t keep the happiness off his face. Every time his phone vibrated, letting out the little chime he has specifically for April’s number, his heart skipped a beat just a little more. This time, he didn’t see it as a problem though. It was an action that only happened with April, and he was more than willing to let it ride through him if it was because of her. 

me [22:34] You really stayed up this late just to harass me about your nameless bear? Don’t you have better things to do, O’Neil

April [22:36] dont u?? ur the one 2 hrs ahead

April [22:37] nd here i was thinkin wed bond over how cute donnie 2 was being

me [22:38] If you’re still calling him that, over my dead body

April [22:38] dnt tempt me

Each set of texts had him laughing, completely engaged, and waiting impatiently for the next response. It’s one thing he loved about talking with April. 

She was a great conversationist, she got his special brand of humor, and even her own sense of humor mashed well with his. They were so similar, yet so different; she’s somehow both his enabler and the thing that stopped him from going too far. She wasn’t amused with everything he said, but she would still laugh and move the bit alongside him. 

And good gods, her smile? Donatello found it absolutely breathtaking. Her smile could make his heart flutter and his face warm and his hands sweaty. 

It was contagious and loud and so, so vibrant. It was like the sun only shined because April O’Neil found joy on Earth.

April [22:51] it was my 1st time goin dwn the big slope

me [22:51] Aw, you chicken out?

April [22:52] HA u wish

April  [22:52] I shwed that slope whts wht

me [22:55] You make me proud to call you my best friend lol

Donatello admired her strength; her bravery. She was so tiny compared to him, and yet even with such a small structure, her presence continued to be the largest in the room. At least to Donatello. Everyone else usually just struck whenever April walked into the room. 

He could so easily get caught up in a world of just her. 

Just as easily as she was pulled into whatever beat Donatello was listening to, he could be pulled into whatever sway April was moving with. He wanted to dance to whatever rhythm April played him. Even if she never invited him to do so, Donatello knew that he would never be too far behind her. 

She was a force to be reckoned with, after all. Yet even with all her hard edges, Donatello knew her mostly for her kindness. 

Like when she’d forced the role of caretaker during finals. Even with Donatello being so against it; even with all the other stressful things going on with her, she took time out of her day to support him. And he appreciated it more than his pride would let him admit. 

Her presence comforted him in more ways than he'd known he could be comforted. She’d burrowed into the soft part of his heart reserved only for those who earned a spot there. And she’d done it so thoroughly that Donatello worried if she ever tried to pull herself out from it, he would bleed out and perish. 

me [23:14] I can’t believe we’re back to arguing about this 

April [23:16] ofc we are

April [23:16] donnie 2 is an imprtnt mem(e)ber of my famly

April [23:17] u will greet him prperly wen we get back

me [23:19] You both can stay where you are

If Donatello allowed himself to get as introspective as his brothers wanted him to, he’d realized there was almost nothing about April that he didn’t like. Of course, there were things he straddled the fence about – her obsession for bordering on ugly plushies; her propensity to be nice and cordial to easily dislikable people; her stubborn streak, but mostly when it’s used against him – but even those things never counted as flaws to him. 

He liked her fighting spirit, the way she scrunched her nose when she was angry. He liked the way her small hand fit in his, and how pretty she looked when he’d press her fingers against his lips.

He liked the way in which his name sounded like a spell coming from her lips. He liked the breathlessness in her voice whenever he kissed her. 

April [23:20] just say u miss me, dum dum

Donatello stared at the message, reading it over in his head and going through multiple snarky or funny responses he could say to her. He typed each one out before deleting them, and he knew the annoying dots were appearing on her screen as he did, exposing him. 

Because he did. He missed her. Terribly so. 

He wanted to reach through the phone and pull her into a hug. Any time she was around him, he wanted to always be within arms reach of her because he suspected her love language was physical touch. And he always wanted to be able to receive that love from her. 

He felt his cheeks warm as he sighed, leaning heavily against his headboard before typing his message. 

me [23:27] Fine, I guess I miss you.

me [23:31] to an extent, of course.

He knew she was laughing before she even sent her usual row of laughing emojis. And for some reason, it was worth the way his heart was in his stomach. 

April [23:33] hamato donatello, u absolute nerd

He liked her.

Donatello slumped against his bed, trying to be careful of Sheldon, who’d gone to sleep in his lap. He threw his arm over his eyes. His phone was still in his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer April’s last text, even though he really wanted to. 

He amused himself with the thought that she might double or triple-text him if he took too long to reply, and his brain quickly supplied, ‘Just like a real girlfriend would, huh?’

Donatello groaned.  

Damn. He really liked her. 

Chapter Text

.o.O.o.

Donatello rushed into Michelangelo's room at the crack of noon the next day, forgoing the usual knock-then open three seconds interval he'd usually give his youngest brother.

Michelangelo sat at his desk, sitting crisscrossed at his desk with a multitude of colored pencils and little tubes of paint scattered across the surface, eyes wide with worry and the little irritation that came with having your space invaded randomly. 

Lounged across his bed was none other than Leonardo with a small stack of comic books next to him, his phone face down next to the pile. 

From the smell of turkey and ham bacon in the air with the faintest sight of smoke, Donatello guessed Raphael was cooking a late breakfast for them all. 

Realistically, Donatello knew none of them were hiding from him – especially since he was the one that woke up late – but the late-night realization he made the night before made him a little antsy. He narrowed his eyes at them, taking multiple deep breaths through his nose as he looked at the duo. 

"Don–?" 

"You guys are horrible brothers. Why did none of you tell me?" 

Michelangelo tilted his head in confusion but Leonardo laughed into the pages of his comic book. 

"Would you have believed any of us if we did tell you?" 

Donatello folded his arms, "Cut the crap, Leo, I know you in particular didn't say anything because you wanted to bet about it." 

"Oh," Michelangelo cooed, eyes lighting up as he looked at Donatello, "is this about the April thing?" 

Donatello scowled at the term, “April thing”. It wasn’t a thing. He wasn’t going to make it a thing. 

"That it is, sweet Micheal," Leonardo declared loudly, snapping in the air as if calling attention to himself. "Looks like our loveable, tech-head brother is finally aware of the crush he has on his best friend and is finally ready to talk about it." 

Donatello scowled; calling it a crush felt a bit juvenile all things considered. A crush was small, fleeting; a simple crush was what Dale had on April. Donatello wouldn’t compare what he was feeling to what Dale had. What Dale had was superficial, overwhelmingly possessive, and childish; completely overlooking April entirely and only focusing on Dale's wants and needs. 

What Donatello was feeling went way deeper than that, and had years of marinating and maturing. It didn't fluctuate in intensity yet grew just as Donatello did. It nuzzled comfortably into his side as if it belonged there, and molded itself into his ribs like they would collapse without it there. He knew he liked April; being best friends for most of their lives, he knew that the fond feelings he had for her could be overly so, but now there was something so ingrained in him that just the thought of April could send a nervous giddiness through him.

All in all, it was deeper than a crush, but Donatello wasn't ready to put that name on it just yet.

"Hold on a second, Dee," Michelangelo called, holding a hand up like he was shyly asking for a teacher. 

Donatello quieted the 'trademarked April O'Neil' in his mind at the nickname. "Micheal, I see your hand, ask your question."

"So, I think we all know about the kiss at the party by now," he started.

"Yes, we do." Donatello nodded, waving a hand at his brother. "Thank you for that, by the way, Mikey, not like I wanted to keep it a secret or anything." 

"No problem!" He said, completely sincere and not minding the sarcasm of his elder brother, "But why were you and April doing your whole thing at the party if you didn't know you liked her at the time? I kinda thought that was what you were getting at when you talked to me in the basement." 

Donatello felt himself cringe, wanting to lie and tell him it wasn't a sudden realization, but it wasn’t like his brothers didn’t already know it was.  After thinking completely with his feelings and not his head, Donatello caught himself in a situation where it was impossible to save face. And while he knew his brothers wouldn’t tease him to the point of self-consciousness, it didn’t change the fact that he would be teased in the first place. 

The echoes of "Be honest with yourself" rang in his ears, and he was hit with tidal waves of embarrassment. Maybe if he was really honest in the first place– before this whole fake dating situation happened –and really looked into why he was doing what he did, he wouldn’t be in this situation at all. 

Well, better late than never, they always say. 

Donatello sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. His hands waved half-hazardly in front of him as he tried to find the words, "You see, April and I were simply playing the roles we had given ourselves, and—" 

"Donnie," Leonardo smugly sang, folding his hands behind his head, "You're stalling." 

Donatello groaned, pressing a hand against his forehead in irritation, both at his schmuck of a brother and also the realization that his face was so warm he feared he'd developed a fever. "Fine. We were fake-dating. That's why." 

Michelangelo turned in his chair, scratching his head as his feet touched down on the floor. Well, that answered a lot and also nothing at all. They were only fake dating, why were they kissing when no one else was around? 

He didn't have the chance to ask because something more important took precedence. "Oh shit, Leo won the bet." 

Leonardo’s hands shot up into the air, "That's what I'm talking about, baby!" 

Donatello glared at the two of them, mostly Leonardo, who sat up just to swing his arms in front of him in a glory dance. 

"Scoff, how could Leo win, we aren't really dating." 

Michelangelo chuckled, a strange mix of nervousness and humor in his smile, and he looked at Leonardo, who was biting his tongue as his lips stretched into a wide smile. 

"Ehehe, Leo actually bet that you two would fake date before getting together." 

Donatello groaned at the sky, “Oh, please be lying.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as Leonardo screamed in success. “I’m gonna regret asking this, but what did dad bet?” 

Michelangelo coughed into his hand, trying to talk over Leonardo’s celebration, “He bet all our inheritance that April would do the asking out.” 

“He bet against me?” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” Michelangelo interjected, “I bet on you! Honestly, I have to stop doing that, you’re giving me a losing streak.” 

Leonardo chuckled, “You should get with the winning team, little bro. No one sees through Donnie’s cool guy act better than me.”

“Ugh, I am so writing him out of my will.” Donatello groaned under his breath. 

Not quietly enough though, because Michelangelo looked at him with wide eyes, “You have your will written out already?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that.”  

Raphael peaked his head through the door, "I heard Leo's success noises, what'd I miss?" 

"The start of my villain arc." 

Raphael tilted his head, "Oh. So I haven't missed much."

Donatello threw his hands up, angrily and stiffly about to make his way through the door, but Raphael grabbed him but the arms. 

He effortlessly picked him up and walked into the room, chuckling at his little brother's tantrum. It was mild, nothing the eldest had never seen before, and very easily placated. "Woah, woah, there, little fella, Raph is just kidding. Fill me in, what happened?" 

And they did, Leonardo throwing in some laughter as the eldest comforting Donatello through his teasing. 

"And here I was thinking you two were already dating," Raphael commented, slightly leaning against Michelangelo's bed posts. "But to be fair, you always favored April most, so it was a little hard to tell." 

Donatello smacked his lips, feeling himself becoming flustered. "That wouldn't have meant we were dating. There could have been other factors at play." 

Michelangelo hummed, "Yeah, sure, but - not to make it about me, you gave April a lot of special treatments that you didn't even give me." 

Leonardo added, "And completely making it about me, but I definitely recall a few instances as kids that screamed you had a crush on April." 

Raphael sent Leonardo a look, not that the gloating goblin cared much about being scolded at that moment. Michelangelo rolled his eyes, still, he did agree with his boasting elder brother.

If Donatello knew the truth, that meant Leonardo didn't have to be so tight-lipped about the facts. They've already passed the threshold of "what not to tell Donnie", so what was the harm?

"What Leo means to say, is that we all kinda knew you liked April, we just didn't know what stage you knew you liked April." 

"So it was obvious to everyone but me," Donatello deadpanned.

" And April," Michelangelo tacked on. 

Donatello felt a small sense of relief wash through him. Well, that's reassuring in the sense that he hadn't already ruined his friendship with April. How much of an ass he would look like if the sole reason he suggested fake dating was because he liked April romantically. 

"Hey," Leonardo called out, roughly nudging him with his socked foot, "I can hear you thinking something stupid from all the way over here." 

Donatello grumbled as he swatted Leonardo's foot away from him, "It's not stupid, just – I can't believe I used this to my own advantage. April might wanna strangle me when she finds out." 

Raphael hummed, "Well, it's not like you even knew you liked her when you offered. You kinda just figured it out." 

"And it's also not like you're using this as a leg up to convince her to date you," Leonardo added.

"Yeah," Michelangelo agreed, "Now all you have to do is ask her to be your girlfriend for real. And this would be a slight bump in the road, y'know?" 

Donatello shook his head, "Oh, sweet Angelo. If only it was that easy." 

The young artist tilted his head, "But don't you both like each other? You both agreed to fake date." 

"Yeah, for a role. One that isn't necessary anymore." 

"Well, how can you be so sure April doesn't like you back?" 

Raphael looked at Leonardo, "How convincing were they as a couple?"

"Considering that both of them are horrible liars and crack pretty easily under pressure? Too convincing." 

Raphael looked at Donatello, failing to mask his triumph behind a neutral look, "Hm." 

"That's neither here nor there," Donatello argued. Sure, he wasn't that good at lying on the spot, but he was a thespian, an actor , if there was a role in need of filling, he would. Just because his brothers didn't always see the merits of his performances didn't mean he wouldn't put on a show when needed. 

Leonardo reached over and put his hands on Donatello’s shoulders. “You like this girl, right?” 

Donatello just scowled, letting out a surprised yelp when Leonardo started to shake him. 

“C’mon, answer the question, man!” 

Donatello quickly grabbed Leonardo’s hands, taking them off his shoulders, “You already know the answer to that, Leo!”

“You wanna hold her–?”

The flustered young man glared at his twin, “If you quote Shrek at me in my hour of need, I really will write you out of my will.”

Leonardo smacked his lips, rolling his eyes as he laid back against the bed. He ignored Michelangelo when he complained about the squeak of his bed. “You're not fun at all. But I'm serious, Donton, if you're really into April like I think you are, you need to show some initiative! She'd love that. I could even give you a few pointers if you'd like.”

“Flirting tips from you? I'd rather die single.”

Leonardo actually glared at him this time. “You will with that attitude.” 

“Well,” Michelangelo added himself back into the conversation, “that must mean you have a plan already ready to go, right, Donnie?”

Donatello shook his head. "Scoff, of course not. I’m not going to say anything to April because it definitely would not end well. You guys are thinking too positively. Let's be realistic here." 

" We are, you're the one thinking too negatively." Leonardo shot back. As someone who rode the same brain wave of self-doubt as April, Donatello should have listened to him.

"Listen, Donnie,” Raphael said, patting his little brother’s shoulder, “whether you decide you really want to date April or not, I think you should talk to her about this. Maybe even tell her you like her, too. The worst she could do is say no." As someone who sometimes acted as April’s first confidant, Donatello should have listened to him as well.

Unfortunately, Donatello didn't listen to either of them. 

The worst she could do is shun him. She could tell him she would never see him in that way and it would have been better if he'd never said it in the first place. She could cast him aside, could feel too awkward to continue to be his best friend and slowly slip away from him. 

There were a lot of worst-case scenarios, Donatello had been through many the second he made the realization. 

Donatello considered whether it was better for him to have his heart crushed by someone who knew him so well. The only plus side to it is that April would probably know how to minimize that damage. 

.o.O.o.

Donatello considered studying whether or not it was possible to have a heart attack without any prior heart issues. Actually, never mind the study; Donatello was positive the answer was yes. The arrhythmic beating of his heart as he waited for his father to return from the airport with April was enough to put him in an early grave. His mind couldn’t settle on the excitement of seeing his best friend after the long week because he continued to think about why he’d missed her so much. (Of course, he would have missed her regardless, but now, not being able to see her face-to-face was terribly lonely.)

He wasn’t the type to put his heart on his sleeve, but at that moment, he felt it was sitting so boldly on his shoulder. 

April agreed to stay with her mom and aunt for the week, while her mother agreed to the entire two-week vacation her aunt promised them. Since she didn't want to miss the holidays with the Hamatos, she and her mom agreed that she could stay with the Hamatos as long as it was alright with Splinter – which it always was. 

Somehow, Splinter got the drop on all four brothers, quickly getting into Raphael's truck and leaving them to pick her up by himself. And to make it worse, April had texted him when her plane landed and given him radio silence since then. 

He tried to keep himself busy; rearranging gifts, making a mental note where all the (mislabeled) mistletoes were so his brothers and father couldn’t sneak him under them, making sure the rooms were to his standard of clean; and yet no matter how busy he was, he always ended up standing at the door. 

He was sure his brothers were making fun of him. Leonardo asked if he needed to set up shop in front of the door. Michelangelo bought him a smoothie to calm his nerves, smirking when he told Donatello to pretend it was liquid courage and to kiss April as she came through the door because it was a great strategy. Raphael peaked from the corner at Donatello every time he stopped at the door, observing him as if he were a deer before trying to silently creep past him. 

He wasn't sure if Raphael meant any harm by it, but it certainly made him feel like a lovestruck idiot. 

Donatello groaned, turning to walk to his room, hoping to get some work upgrading the AI he made for his class as a personal project. Then, he heard the sound of keys juggling against the door and jolted so hard he almost dropped his half-empty cup. 

When the door opened, Splinter walked through, leaving the door open as he reached down and started to take off his shoes. 

Donatello found it strange that April wasn't right behind him. Usually, he would have to jokingly reprimand her about being too comfortable in the house.

"Dad, did you say anything weird to her?" 

Splinter rolled his eyes, "I'm not one to meddle in the affairs of others."

Except when said affairs involved his sons, of course. But it wasn't like Splinter had to say that out loud for Donatello to know. 

“Dad.”

“Why are you still standing here talking to me?” Splinter growled in his fatherly tone, pointing out the door, “Go help April with her bag like the gentleman I raised you to be.” 

“Irritated groan! Fine.” Donatello made a huge show of stomping – very quietly – past his father and putting his shoes on. 

On some level, Donatello was thankful for his father’s unpredictable personality. It snapped him out of his nervous rut, and he was able to walk toward his father’s car without wanting the ground to open up and swallow him at the thought of April looking at him.

He walked to the back of the car, seeing the vehicle shake as April dragged something out of the trunk. He took several deep breaths, pushing down the nerves he’d twisted himself in before speaking. 

"Hey, April—"

"Why did Splints congratulate me on our new relationship?" 

So much for not wanting the ground to swallow him. Curse his father’s unpredictable personality. 

April hadn’t even turned to look at him all the way, her tone wasn’t accusatory, or upset, just confused. She waited for an answer as she struggled to get her large suitcase out and finally looked up at him when the bag plopped on the ground next to her feet. She raised an eyebrow.

Donatello pressed his thumbs together, “Uh… well, you see…”

She sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “You know, you have to stop doing this and not telling me. I was already okay with the whole breakfast club thing only because you told me right before it was important, but if I was gonna have to ride with Splints the whole ride here without you, the least you could do is gimme a heads up.” 

Despite being shocked at her reaction, Donatello rolled his eyes, “Breakfast Club, she says. We were called the Purple Dragons, April. The least you could do is support my hobbies.” 

“Yeah huh, whatever,” she giggled, reaching back into the truck and grabbing her carry-on. She smiled when she heard Donatello chuckle on the side of her. “So what happened? Leo gave you up or something?”

He huffed a laugh, “You know how Leo loves to talk.”

Donatello mentally sent an apology out to the wrongfully accused, but quickly took it back after remembering his behavior the past couple of days. The least Leonardo could do would be to take the fall for him. 

April laughed, throwing her bag over her shoulder. She turned to see Donatello had already claimed her suitcase to carry. “Even though you don’t really deserve it, it would be weird if your girlfriend went out on a trip and didn’t get you a souvenir, so here.” She held out her hand, whatever was in her hand small enough to be covered in her small hand. 

Donatello raised an eyebrow but still held his hand under hers. 

The item dropped into his palm with a little cling, and Donatello flipped it over with his thumb. It was a circular keychain with imagery of snowy mountains on both sides with “My Girlfriend Went on a Skii Trip and All I Got Was This Shitty Keychain” printed across in bold letters. 

April kicked an imaginary rock, “I got it on impulse as I was leaving the resort, honestly. But nothing I got you for Christmas really screams a ‘girlfriend’ gift, so maybe show this off to the fam so they don’t get suspicious, okay?” 

Donatello knew it was just a last-minute gift; she’d probably felt in her gut that he’d messed up somehow and was going to need her to swoop in and save his butt once again, but Donatello’s heart didn’t care. The arrhythmic beating of his heart started back up, and he was sure he could feel his face warm if he reached up and pressed his hand against it. 

It really wasn’t fair for her to have this kind of hold on him. 

As they walked toward the house, Donatello looked up to the second-floor windows, saw the curtains move just a little, and groaned. His brothers no doubt already spying on the two and preparing their barrage of unfunny, unoriginal jokes at his expense. They couldn't even wait until they had April settled in the house first.

“Huh,” April said, seeing the curtain just as Donatello did. “They really start early with this kinda thing.”

Donatello rolled his eyes, putting down her suitcase as he reached over to open the door for her. “Long-winded sigh, it really doesn’t take much for my dumb-dumb brothers to want to hound on me. It’s so hard being the golden child of the family.”

April scoffed before she giggled, “I’m sure Mikey has it so hard.”

“You’re so quick to cut me down at the knees.”

She smiled at him as she stepped into the house, already taking her shoes off and heading to the closet next to the entrance to grab her assigned house shoes. “Can’t let you get too tall, you know?”

He followed, dragging the suitcase in with him and taking his shoes off as well. “Ah, yes. To be considerate of the little lady standing two feet off the ground.” 

She let out an offended gasp, but before she could say anything in regard to it, a loud meow sounded out before a furry creature pressed itself against April’s calf. She cooed as she reached down, cradling the ball of black fur into her arms before standing. 

She looked at Donatello, surprisingly serious as she states, “I’m taking him in the divorce.” 

It wasn’t the first time she’s said that in the last couple of days, but Donatello couldn’t stop his brain from spiraling down the pipeline of ‘divorce implies marriage at some point’ and the thought of April not only accepting his feelings but those feelings leading something as big as matrimony. 

Donatello scowled at himself as his overactive imagination tried to lead him into the notion that April felt the same as he did, but he quickly shook his head. Donatello had seen April when she had hearts in her eyes; when she met that big news anchor that she loved so much that Donatello couldn’t remember the name of; when they went to the aquarium when they were eight and finally got to see the beluga whale that seemed to evade them every time they went; hell, even when they’d gone to their first comic con and she got a picture with a cosplayer she loved. Donatello certainly knew what each emotion looked like on his best friend’s face, and never had she ever looked at him with such eyes. 

“Aww, they’re having their first lover’s quarrel,” Michelangelo’s chirp brought Donatello out of his head.

Donatello glanced flatly at the doorway, seeing Raphael, Leonardo, and Michelangelo crouched down as if they were trying to stay hidden. From Leonardo’s smug face and Michelangelo’s loud expression of happiness, Donatello didn’t think either cared whether or not they were caught. Raphael’s awkward wave showed that he was only fretting about being caught . 

Leonardo chuckled, “Knowing them, they probably had their first a while ago. I bet they had two walking from the car.” 

Donatello glared, picking the suitcase up and nudging April towards the stairs. “You would lose that bet.” 

“Would be the first one in a while.” 

“You!” Donatello took a deep breath, ignoring Leonardo as he high-fived Michelangelo and Raphael chuckled. “You’re insufferable. All of you. Let’s get you to your room, April.” 

“Dad says to leave the door open, m’kay?” Leonardo called out, delighting when both Donatello and April lit up in embarrassment. He even took Raphael elbowing him in the side with pride as Donatello splattered out every unintelligent insult he knew, and April coughed into her hand to try to save face.

April rolled her eyes, “Let me guess, don’t do anything you wouldn’t do?”

Donatello hissed, “April.”

Leonardo shook his head, “Naw, do everything I would do.” 

Raphael looked at him, scandalized, “Leo!”

Michelangelo chuckled, “Okay, but jumping off the roof on a snowboard isn’t outside of the realm of possibilities, so maybe don't.” 

“Leo certainly isn’t built for thinking,” Donatello snarked, glaring at his twin when he threw a stray sock at him. 

April smirked, winking at the guys. She leaned down to let Sheldon down and readjusted her bag on her shoulder. “I’ll see you guys after I’m done unpacking. Then we can start up this Donnie bullying train for real.” 

The three brothers cheered as Donatello stared flatly at April as she grinned at him. The goofy smile on her face made it hard for Donatello to even pretend to be upset at her, but he still clicked his tongue as he paused walking. 

“Maybe you should go back out of town and come back when you actually miss and appreciate me,” he lamented. As he said that, he continued to move toward the stairs with her suitcase. 

April smirked, leaning against his shoulder. She knew it made it harder for him to move, which is why she didn’t think much of it when Donatello stiffened. “I don’t know, I think you missed me too much for that. I have the screenshots of you saying as much.” 

From the silence of his brothers at the statement, Donatello knew his brothers were out of earshot of the statement. He scoffed but knew the statement flustered him because he stuttered the second he opened his mouth. That’s what he gets for being honest in text .

“S-scoff! I’m seriously reconsidering whether I said that in sound mind and body.” 

She raised an eyebrow as he started up the stair. She hopped behind him cheerfully with a chuckle in her voice. “You say that but you seemed to wanna argue about how coherent you were while we were texting and you denied wanting anything to do with Donnie Two.” 

He looked back at her, raising his own eyebrows as he touched the top of the stairs. “You bring that up like you’re actually advocating for us to co-parent.” 

She placed a hand against her chest, “I just want Donatello Two to know how loved he is.” 

“Oh, you’re delusional. How sad for you, my poor, sweet April.” He shook his head and walked away. Because the guest room is right across from the stairs, it didn’t take long for Donatello to get there, knocking on the door to show its vacancy and opening the door.

“And you wonder why I want custody of Sheldon.” 

“I think it’s just because you want to take something from me.” 

“While true, it’s also because you don’t deserve him if you’re gonna play favorites so hard.”

He walked into the room, placed her suitcase at the foot of her bed, and flopped down on the bed to sit. “I’m not playing favorites because that would imply Sheldon has siblings, and because I am not claiming your abomination as my own–”

He yelped when something plush hit his forehead, fell off his lap, and landed on the floor in front of him with a soft flump. He blinked in confusion before looking down at what April had apparently thrown at him. 

And it was the fucking plush itself. 

She’d really thrown Donatello Two at him. 

“You brought it into my home .” 

“Look at him and tell me he doesn’t have your eyes!” 

Donatello grabbed it off the floor and brought his arm back, ready to throw it back at her, but April advanced too quickly, grabbing at the toy before he could release it from his grasp. 

She laughed her argument, weakly trying to wrestle her new favorite thing from Donatello’s hand. “He went on vacation with me, what’d you expect!” 

“You should have left him in the mountains!” 

“You’re a horrible co-parent!”

“ Good !”

It wasn’t long before the two of them were laying side by side giggling at the ridiculous argument the two of them managed to get into. 

Donatello thought about how natural it felt to play up such a relationship between the two of them. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that April actually left the door open like Leonardo joked. It was a weird thing to focus on; it was a joke, and yet April still made an adjustment at his family’s suggestion regarding their ‘new’ relationship status. 

From the looks of it, Splinter was in his room, his own door shut and television playing loudly enough that Donatello could hear muffled sounds of his show through the walls. His brothers were still downstairs, their shouts of excitement clear as day. He knew that his family knew it all was fake, so they wouldn’t care whether the door was open or not.

Yet because it was seemingly a rule set for her as his girlfriend, April was willing to do it outside of the eye of others. Even though she knew it was fake. 

Donatello groaned loudly, his arm thrown over his eyes as his mind continued to race toward where he wanted to keep it away from. She was so – something . She played the role of his girlfriend so perfectly, and Donatello could feel himself becoming more enamored by her by the minute.

April sat up, scooting closer to him, slightly reminiscent of when she’d let Donatello use her lap as a pillow during college. She lightly tapped him with the tips of her fingers, tilting her head in hopes of seeing his eyes through the space between his arm and face. “Hey, you doing alright there?”

“I’m… fine.” 

Donatello starfished on the bed, looking at the ceiling before his eyes found April’s face. He took in her features, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how badly he’d missed her when she was gone. Seeing her face-to-face like this reminded him of how beautiful he found her, and it didn’t take long for his eyes to slip to her lips. He closed his eyes with a huff of breath as he remembered the vague feeling of her lips against his. 

He threw himself up into a sitting position, his eyes widened when his thoughts caught up with him. 

He had to get out of here. 

“I’m alright. Yeah, I’m super okay.” He scooted out of the bed, giving her a very unconvincing thumbs-up, “I’m going to leave you to unpack! You should go to the living room after you do, we’re watching more Christmas movies!” 

“Ah, yeah, sure.” April’s confusion was clear on her face, but Donatello was turning away from her too quickly to notice. “I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah! Of course, don’t worry about it!” 

She’d see him as soon as he got his mind on straight. 

.o.O.o.

Donatello would never consider himself much of a whiner – he would typically leave that to either Michelangelo or Leonardo – but laying face down in his father's bed with his cat son laid across his back and his father patting his shoulder, he made a mental note to do it more. 

Splinter sighed again, turning down his show despite it being an episode he hadn’t seen before.

“Purple, you’re wasting time with your old man while there’s a pretty little lady waiting with your brothers to spend time with you.” 

Donatello groaned into the pillow, lifting his head just enough to sigh out, “April’s all of our best friend, she’s allowed to spend time with them while I'm not around.”

“Ohoho,” Splinter cackled, pettily, “but she’s your girlfriend specifically, is she not?”

Donatello glared at his father. He knew Splinter was in the bet just as much as his brothers were, and from how hard he was dodging Leonardo, he also knew that he’d lost the bet. Which meant his father knew he and April were not dating. He wasn’t sure how much his brothers told him about the entire situation, but because Leonardo went around gloating about him winning the bed, he knew his father had to suspect Donatello’s feelings by now. 

But that didn’t mean April felt the same as he did. 

No matter how hard Donatello thought about it, he couldn’t figure out why his father would trap him in such an unwinnable situation like this. 

“Dad, you’re acting like Leo.”

“Correction, your brother acts like me.” Splinter said proudly before he sobered his tone, “Now, why don’t you tell me what the real problem is.” 

Donatello sighed. He considered putting his walls up, acting like the bad boy persona he loved to throw out so he could avoid having to deal with the mushier, harder-to-control side of feelings and emotions. But, sitting in the comfort of his father’s room with his cat-son providing him comfort, Donatello actually yearned for the softness of being vulnerable with another being.

“Dad, I really like April.” 

Despite the heaviness Donatello felt from the confession, Splinter nodded. Accepting it almost as easily as looking outside and seeing the sun shining as it was supposed to.

“Yes, you do.” 

"No, dad," he sighed into the pillow before looking back at his father, "I really like her. In ways that I never even thought to look at. I just… I always thought I liked her the normal amount, but it's so much more than that." 

Splinter nodded along. He knew his son didn't have many intimate friendships and April was essentially the first friend he'd ever had, so the severity of his feelings for her was probably easy for him to sweep under the rug. It made sense to Splinter that his son assumed what he felt for April was just the feelings for a best friend. 

"Feelings are slippery," Splinter comforted, "one day, you're completely content with platonic feelings and then the next, boom , you're head over heels." 

Donatello whined, "But I don't even know when that day was." 

"Does it matter?" 

"... I guess it doesn't." It didn't. The only thing that mattered was that he was head over heels, and the most important thing was dealing with it. And he was trying to deal with it.

But she made it so hard.

Donatello couldn’t believe it took him so long to understand the nearly bottomless pit of fondness for April had overflowed into more romantic waters and no matter how hard he tried to push the boundaries back to where they were – where they were supposed to be – they pushed back against him just as hard. His moments with her made him aware of the affection he had for her, how deep the care and comfort for her ran into him. He still cared for her as a best friend should; wanting the best for her, knowing that no matter what, she would always mean a lot to him. However, now Donatello couldn’t stop the thoughts of taking her out on more dates, holding her hand whenever he felt like it and not for show and being able to kiss her wherever his lips decided to land. 

He shouldn’t want that since he decided to let his feelings fade instead of acting on them. Yet it was hard to be around her knowing he still had these thoughts and a desire to act on them. 

“I’m not seeing the problem,” Splinter supplied, shrugging his shoulders as he tossed the remote to the side. Knowing Donatello, this conversation wasn’t going to end until he came to a conclusion.

“It’s because April doesn’t see me like that.”

“Isn’t that why young people date? To see if they see each other ‘in that light’?” He used finger quotes, sighing when Donatello turned back into the pillows and groaned. “You can’t be sure she doesn’t like you like that. You didn’t even ask her out yet.”  

“I don’t have to ask her out to know that, dad.” He knew April too well for that. He wouldn't make a habit of asking questions that would hurt his feelings if he knew the answer already.

Splinter scoffed, “One of my sons worrying about whether or not they’ve romanced a woman enough to know if they’ll date them? What universe is this?” 

Donatello sighed, "What do you know, dad? You were a handsome movie star, it's not like you were lacking in the 'women and men just want me' department."

Splinter let out a small chuckle; it was lighthearted and whimsical, and almost didn't match the tone of the words he'd spoken, "Actually, there was a woman that did pursuit and it failed."

Donatello's eyes widened, and he quickly sat up to look wide-eyed at his father. He brought Sheldon to his lap, even as he meowed angrily at being disturbed. He’d been waiting years for his dad to open up about any aspect of his life, and the fact he was getting a front-row seat to such a thing made him push his problems to the side for just a moment. 

Splinter chuckled again, getting comfortable as he adjusted himself to sit in front of Donatello, his legs tucked under him. He wondered if other parents got as much joy from their children showing interest in his life as he did just then. 

"She was a woman I met on the set of one of my movies named Charlotte, long before I'd met Raphael's mother. We had an instant attraction. It was amazing; she was clever, resourceful… admittedly she was a little off in some ways, but it added to her beauty if I'm being honest." 

Donatello rolled his eyes as his father started to swoon, "So, what happened? You slipped up somehow?" 

Splinter shrugged. "I asked her to marry me." 

"And she said no?" 

"Not exactly… no. Unfortunately for me, Miss Charlotte made the decision that the pursuit of her career was more important than the advancement of our relationship." 

Donatello felt his shoulders shag. "So, it ended badly then. That makes me feel so much better." 

Donatello wasn't usually so sarcastic with his father, but he couldn't help it. This is the exact scenario I'm worried about. 

Okay, not exactly, but along those lines. He'd bare his heart to April and get shot down. How was his father's past experience gonna negate that? 

His father smirked, "Ask me if I regretted it." 

Donatello glared at him. Oh, so that's the angle he was going for, how clever of him. 

"Oh, I get it," Donatello over-exaggeratedly formed quotes with his fingers. "'It's better to have loved and lost than never loved at all', you're very original, dad." 

Splinter shrugged, smirking as he reached towards his nightstand and grabbed his drink, sipping loudly through his straw. "It doesn't have to be original if it's right." 

"But you two didn't end up together." 

"But that rejection didn't stop me from falling for Raphael's mother. Nor yours and Leonardo's, nor Michelangelo's." He looked down at his drink, fondly remembering the women he'd fallen for, and lost. "I loved Charlotte enough to want to marry her, and it didn't work out, but it didn't ruin me from love. Love is a gamble, my son, and it won't always work out the way we want it to. But you can't let that keep you from playing it." He laughed as he thought about his sons, and how being a single father – for the most part – shaped and changed his worldview. Affection bloomed in his chest. "The payout makes it worth it." 

"... Are you two still in contact?" 

"Who? Charlotte?" 

Donatello nodded. 

Splinter winked, "I can't reveal all my cards in one sitting, young one."

Donatello suddenly remembered the talk he and his brothers had regarding their father's love life. He pinned the information mentally. That is a topic they would need to bring up at a later time.

The young man sighed, gently rubbing Sheldon as he thought about what his father was trying to say, and it did kind of help a little bit. A long-winded 'nothing beats a failure but a try', but Donatello still wasn't sure. 

"There are just so many variables to think about." Donatello finally groaned out. He pressed his palm against his forehead as he continued, "So what? I flirt with April a little bit, I confess. The likeliest thing that will happen is April doesn't feel the same and she's gonna turn me down. She'll feel awkward, I'll be awkward and heartbroken, and then we'll stop being friends altogether.

"So, the best thing to do would be to stay quiet, right? Just stay friends. That is… safe. We've been best friends for so long, always been best friends, and we can keep being best friends forever if I keep my mouth shut. I mean, who's to say we even last as a couple anyway? We could break up at any time and I'd just have to accept it and be crushed, because I can't think of any possibility or reason that I would break up with April, so obviously, April would do the breaking up and–" 

“Donatello.” 

The young man stopped his ranting and looked at his father with wide eyes. Despite now only being slightly taller than Donatello himself, whenever his father called him by his full name, Donatello felt like he was looking up at him like he did when he was a child. 

“Yeah, dad?” 

Splinter chuckled a little at Donatello's shocked face, patting his hand to show he was neither annoyed nor upset at his son's emotional tirade. "As always, you certainly have a lot to think about. But what I want to know is: are you sure this thing with April isn't something you want to go after? You might end up regretting it if you don't. I would've." 

"But what if I do and I regret it?"

"Well," Splinter signed, leaning back against his headboard, "consider it like this: say you don't do anything, and in the near future, April finds herself a suitor that will love her out loud and won't hesitate to jump at the chance to date her. Would you be happy for her?" 

Donatello opened his mouth to say, yes, he would. Because April was his best friend, and more than anything else, he wanted her to be happy. He would be happy as long as she was.

But if Donatello was being honest with himself, he knew that his metaphorical happiness would come long after April received hers. Donatello wouldn't be immediately 100% happy for her, not in the ways someone like her friend Sunita, or his brothers would be. Because there would always be a part of him that worried her potential partner wouldn't be as compatible for her as Donatello would be. 

He knew April was easy to like, even easier to love, but would her partner accept her unabashedly as he had? Would they know the limit of when to stop poking fun at her love of weirdness? Would they enjoy the late-night calls about whatever cryptid she'd watched an hour-long video about? Would they enjoy seeing her go into a passionate fury about stuff only a small few cared about? And if they did, would they be able to do it at the same levels as him? 

He didn't think so. 

If Donatello didn't try anything with April, and someone else did, would he grow to regret it more than doing something and failing?

Splinter took Donatello's silence as his answer and hummed. "I see. What do you want to do then?" 

Donatello racked his brain, trying to find a concise answer to the question. He wanted to be with April in any way he could, be that platonic or romantic, but he couldn't stop the desire to pursue a romantic route as well. But, that came with so much risk – having to flirt with her, making his intention known, and asking her if she wanted to be with him in that way as well. All of that could end badly.

Would the risk be worth it for him?

"I… I don't think I want things to change too much." 

He still wasn't sure. The words sounded fickle on his tongue, and weak once they hit the air. They felt untrue and transparent. He felt like such a fraud. 

He tried not to feel too hurt that Sheldon took that opportunity to escape his lap.

To Donatello, it looked as if Splinter deflated, and he worried briefly about whether or not he'd disappointed his father. He looked down, his hands fisting in his lap before his father cupped his face in one of his hands. 

"And if that's your choice, I'll stand by you on it." 

And just like that, Splinter moved back to his comfortable position, slouching against the bed and grabbing the remote to turn back up his show. But then, he paused. 

"Though…" he hummed, looking over at his son as the boy adjusted to a more comfortable position as well, "I do have to ask if you want things to go back to normal, why not tell April that I lied?" 

Donatello didn't like not having an answer for that. He worried he never would. 

.o.O.o.

"You were… kind of reserved most of the night." 

Donatello was startled out of his thoughts, looking at April as she kicked her feet against the edge of the couch. They were currently sitting in the now-emptied living room after spending an afternoon watching, critiquing, and enjoying Christmas movies with the family. They slowly started to trickle down once April and Donatello insisted on watching what was either the well-loved or absolutely hated Jupiter Jim's fourth Christmas special. Soon enough, it was well after midnight and only the two of them remained. 

Even though Donatello did have fun, even he could notice how trapped in his head he was the entire evening. 

He'd gone to his father to whine and complain in hopes that it would lessen how much he had to think about this thing with April, but it had the opposite effect. 

Because every time April found her hand in his during the movies, Donatello couldn't stop thinking about whether or not he wanted to risk it. Whenever she turned to laugh with him about some overused trope in the movie, he wondered if kissing her was a risk he should take. When she made herself comfortable against his side, he couldn’t stop himself from considering if asking her to be his girlfriend for real was a worthy risk. 

He’d worked himself into a bit of a tizzy. 

“There’s just… a lot to adjust to,” he finally said. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

April shrugged, “Nothing more we aren’t used to though, right? This is kind of more low maintenance than when we were at school.” 

“Scoff, maybe for you. You’re not the one who has to deal with the dumb looks on your brother’s faces because they want to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ about you finally having a significant other.” 

She smirked, tucking her head on his shoulder, her bonnet scrunched up against the side of his face. “Aww, is someone suddenly jealous of the only child now? You poor thing.”

“Hardy haha, you sure are a sore winner, O’Neil.”  

Donatello’s statement didn’t have any bite to it, and he relaxed against her immediately after saying it. As a result, he ended up leaning against her shoulder instead of the other way around. 

April raised an eyebrow at him, gently rubbing his shoulder in comfort, “You sleepy?”

He wasn’t, but he did acknowledge how late it was. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Let’s go to sleep then. I’ll turn off the lights and stuff while you head to bed.” She patted him, waiting for him to move before standing from the couch.

Donatello chuckled, standing after her and folding the blanket that was on the floor. “That’s the job of the host, April. If you’re not careful, dad will put you to work.”

“Pfft, I’m already helping Mikey with Christmas dinner, how much more work can he put me through.”

Donatello’s jaw hit the metaphorical floor, “Mikey’s letting you cook with him? What an honor.” 

April hummed, humor in her voice as she grabbed the remote off the floor and turned the television off. “Maybe it’s just that I don’t critique his setup when we’re in the kitchen together?”

“Uh, scoff, I don’t critique. I make suggestions.” 

“Critical suggestions. Judgments, if you will.” 

He rolled his eyes, “What’s it with you and sticking up for Mikey today? Are you picking favorites again?”

She winked at him as she turned the lights off, the lights of the Christmas tree illuminating the room and painting her in a rainbow of tiny lights, “Oh stop that, you know you’re my one and only, Dee.” 

Without waiting for a response, April giggled as she turned, assuming Donatello was also in on the joke, heading toward the stairs with a small skip in her step. She called to him when she touched the base of the stairs. 

Donatello covered his face with his hands, huffing against his palms as a replacement for screaming. 

She was so unfair. 

When Donatello made it to the stairs, April was waiting for him. She was reading on her phone and looked up when she sensed him next to her. 

“I’m going to walk you to your room,” Donatello announced. 

She raised an eyebrow, "You don't have to walk me to my room? It's like, down the hallway from yours. And it’s right at the top of the stairs. What's this about?" 

He shrugged, "You know, memories from college." 

April started going up, slowly so Donatello could closely follow. “You’re supposed to wait until you graduate to say that kind of stuff.” 

“I’m not one to wait to be a little nostalgic.”

“So much for your emotionally unavailable bad-boy image.” 

Donatello, feeling beside himself, gently grabbed April’s hand. “Just between the two of us, we both know that image isn’t super close to the actual thing.” 

“... Yeah, between the two of us, you’re a bit of a softie.” She remarked softly, gently guiding Donatello towards the guest room once she touched the top stair. She leaned a little closer as her voice lowered. “But, between the two of us, I like you better when you’re like this.” 

Donatello closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

She was so unfair. 

“I think we should kiss.” His eyes were still closed, so the only thing he knew of April’s response was a shocked exhale of air, just short of a scoff. When he opened his eyes, he looked down at the ground, feeling embarrassed and shy. He leaned down, his forehead pressed against hers as his other hand came forward to grab her empty one. 

“Because, you know, they think we're dating so it'd be weird if you didn't give me a good night kiss."

Save for the fact that he wasn’t even sure if his brothers were still awake or not. 

“They’re… not even here to see it…” 

She sounded shy but not necessarily opposed. 

“... Is it… is it wrong that I just want to kiss you again then?”

He was being a bit selfish with the request, he knew that. But he wasn’t sure if he would ever get the chance to kiss her again, and April had no problem with indulging him in his selfishness before, so he didn’t think she would mind indulging him this time either. 

When Donatello finally got the courage to lean back and look at her, he saw her biting her lip. He suspected she was mentally going over her options as well, and out of fear of making her uncomfortable, he slowly loosened his fingers from around her hands, considering leaving her bubble altogether. 

She tightened her grip. Taking a deep breath, she looked at him with finality. 

“Think of it as a good night kiss, then.”

Donatello entangled their fingers together, leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers, and they kissed. 

And kissed. 

And kissed, until they really couldn’t call it a goodnight kiss anymore. Donatello's hands felt hot against the skin of the back of her neck and her cheek. He bent his knees so April didn't have to arch her feet so much just to reach him, but he still felt like he was towering over her. Almost as if he'd cocooned her against him so he could feel her in his arms without having to wrap her in them. Even though he yearned to be closer to her, wanting to embrace her as he familiarized himself with her lips yet again.

April wasn't fairing any better. Her hands gripping Donatello's collar like she was anticipating having to pull him back to her. Like he was worried he would pull away before she's gotten her fill of him. She moved her lips against his, stealing the breath from his lungs like she was using it to survive. April felt like a delirious fool as they kissed; she could almost pretend that Donatello was kissing her out of the need for her too. She could pretend like he'd been missing her like she missed him and didn't have any other way to prove it than to kiss the feelings on her lips. She imagined the words wouldn't come out of his mouth, so better to leave them on hers. 

April tried to remember when was the last time someone kissed her like this and came up with nothing. Even her previous most passionate kisses didn't feel like this; the level of yearning she could taste in the kiss, the domineering need to mold their lips together, no kiss she's had before had this level of intensity.

It was definitely more than just a goodnight kiss. It almost felt like a kiss of confession. 

With a gasp, April finally pulled back from the kiss, not going far because of Donatello's hold on her, which hadn't slackened despite them no longer kissing. 

She felt herself begin to burn. She couldn't believe she let herself get carried away like that. It was supposed to be just a peak.

April slowly pulled her hand away from Donatello's collar, becoming more embarrassed when she saw how wrinkled it was now. 

Donatello's hands moved to her shoulders, but he didn't move an inch more, too entranced in the way April tried to cover her awkward smile with her hand, letting out a harsh breath when her fingertips touched her lips, shocked at the sensitivity. 

She wondered just how long they’d been kissing each other. 

They stared at each other, softly panting in the other's air. 

Donatello had to admit, for as beautiful as he thought April was on a daily basis, nothing quite beat the sight of her reddening face after being kissed. The way her pretty brown eyes took in his face as her long eyelashes fluttered as she blinked the disbelief from her vision. 

He took a deep breath, licking his bottom lip and tasting the slight hint of the coconut milk lip balm she puts on before the last movie. Donatello's eyes strayed to April's lips before snapping back to her eyes, and he thought about dipping down for a second taste.

She finds herself breathlessly giggling at the act, alarm bells going off in her head because she couldn't believe how flustered and exposed she feels at that moment. She couldn’t decide whether she was excited about Donatello’s enthusiasm for kissing her or not, but she was too willing to get carried away with him about it. And getting carried away with Donatello wasn’t something she could afford herself to do. 

"Wow, that was some goodnight kiss," Her hand blindly reached back to grab at the door, her eyes darting everywhere except his dazed ones. "It was surely something, I can't wait to see you tomorrow, good night! Bye!" 

She wiggled herself out of his grasp, quickly escaping into the safety of the guest room and closing the door behind her with an audible slam. April leaned against the door, hands pressed against her warming face, mentally screaming when she realized she ran away like a scared rabbit in the face of a predator. But it wasn’t like that wasn’t what she felt like if she were being completely honest. Donatello’s eyes were scarily focused to be so dazed. 

Donatello wasn't doing any better outside the room, crouched in front of the closed door with his face in his hands as well.

His heartbeat was loud in his ears and made his focus zero in on the memory of her lips against his, of how dazed she looked at him afterward. He longed to have her look at him like that again. 

He wasn't sure he could though, because she'd cut the kiss short. Well, not necessarily. They’d finished the kiss, but he didn’t want it to stop so soon. Even while still feeling light-headed from the kiss, Donatello felt he could have continued to kiss her. He probably wouldn't have stopped until he passed out even. He would have passed out in her arms, his lips still connected with her, and woken up just to kiss her again.

But Donatello could take a hint. April didn't want him to kiss her like that. Otherwise, why pull away and leave him so quickly? 

He wondered for a second if maybe she thought he was a bad kisser. 

Would that mean he’d have to practice? But what better way to practice than by doing? But Donatello didn’t want to kiss anyone else that wasn’t April O’Neil. He wanted to become a better kisser for her, maybe that would persuade her to want to kiss him more. 

He groaned. Just friends shouldn’t want to be better kissers so their friends would kiss them more. 

But Donatello really wanted to keep kissing April like that. He wanted to kiss her and hold her hand, and sweet talk her when no one else was around. He wanted to be by her side in every capacity, and it was only now that he realized his desires had outgrown the box of what ‘just friends’ should be doing. They’d snapped that box in multiple pieces when he accepted the role of her fake boyfriend, and unfortunately for his plan of keeping the status quo, there was no way to go back to it. 

In standard Hamato Donatello fashion, he’d shot himself in the foot before he even realized how badly he’d fucked up. 

"Uhh, hey, whatcha doing there?" 

Donatello's head snapped up, taking in an eyeful of Leonardo wearing his pajamas, wrapped snugly in his Lou Jitsu blanket with his Ebenezer Scrooge hat. Donatello glared at Leonardo's smug face as he stood, taking a deep breath. He grabbed Leonardo by the shoulders, moving him back until they were standing in front of Raphael’s door instead of the guest room. 

Donatello looked sternly at him, but all Leonardo did was smirk at him, knowing what desperation looked like on his smarty-pants brother. 

Leonardo expected Donatello to interrogate him on what he saw, how long he was standing there, or – heaven forbid – how much he would be telling the rest of the family as soon as they woke the next morning. 

He did none of those things. 

"Alright, Leo," he whispered, not wanting his voice to travel through his brother’s door, "if you're going to help me, I need you to be serious about it." 

Leonardo looked at him, eyes wide with shock before they crinkled in joy as a smirk slowly sailed on his face. 

Donatello silently prayed that he wouldn’t regret this. But at least he finally made a decision that this would be worth the risk.

Chapter Text

.o.O.o.

It was only her second day back with the guys, but they had already forgone treating her like a guest. Save for making Donatello help her with her bags, the Hamatos treated April as if she’d lived with them her whole life, and it wasn’t as if she wanted to be treated any differently. 

When she woke up the next morning, she unpacked her suitcase, and she’d claimed the first shower of the day. During the afternoon, she argued with her hosts about ownership of the remote, having to force her way to the best seat in the living room because her dear best friend claimed she “didn’t have the right”. She wrestled her presents under the tree, and snuck a look at a few tags to see if anything had her name on it. 

She saw at least three. She counted that as a small victory. 

Now, April spent her evening humming in the kitchen as she listened to the sounds of the boiling water covering her sweet potatoes in the pot. April opened and closed the cabinets, grabbing the specific seasonings she needed to prepare the sweet potato pie Michelangelo and Splinter practically begged her to make since she admitted knowing her mother’s recipe. Even with Christmas around the corner, she wasn't sure the pies she made would make it to the day, but she was in a cooking mood, and Michelangelo was gracious enough to lend ownership of the kitchen completely as she did.

“I can’t believe you got roped into kitchen duty.” 

Even though the voice suddenly appeared, April wasn’t shocked or spooked. Instead, she turned to the entrance of the kitchen with a smirk on her face as Donatello walked in. 

She chuckled as his feet softly padded against the kitchen floor. “Are you upset something else is stealing my attention away from you again?” She teased, turning around and leaning against the counter. 

“Scoff,” Donatello exclaimed, tossing his nose into the air before his gaze quickly returned to her, “I was simply asking, considering you complained to high heavens when your ex-friend from high school had you helping with her chores every time you visited. I just assumed this would be reminiscent of that.” 

April hummed, looking up at him when he stopped on the side of her. She tapped her chin, “Hmm, I guess it’s because I feel at home here? Probably has something to do with you being my boyfriend and all.” 

Her tone was teasing and light, mischief and endearment rolling in her chest. April forced herself to play the part of best friend who’d caught the other in a lie. She’d been trying to make herself nonchalant about the whole thing since the kiss, but she was admittedly having a hard time with it. She figured if she played up how much the entire situation was a ruse, she could trick her mind into believing her feelings were as contrived. 

Donatello opened his mouth, eyebrows furrowed like they do when he’s trying to scold someone before his mouth closed in a pout. 

“Must you treat me like this? You’re just as bad as Mikey is with this.” 

She wasn’t aware that Michelangelo would make fun of Donatello in this sense; she honestly hadn’t witnessed a peek of it. 

April looked around his shoulder to the doorway, scanning just in case either of the boys or Splinter walked by. 

"Do you not find this as funny as I do?” 

Donatello leaned into her, squinting his eyes as an intimidation tactic that made April giggle more, “Do you find amusement in my fumbling words and looking like a fool in love?” 

She tilted her head, her hand coming up to flick one of the locs that fell in his eye, “Considering it’s the first time I’m seeing it? Yes, it’s kinda endearing.”

April wasn’t ashamed to admit that to him under the prefaces of a joke. It was nice to see him shy about the notion of dating her, even if it wasn’t because of the reason she’d hoped for. It would be a nice memory to think back to if she ever stopped to think about the 'what ifs.'

He pursed his lips slightly, taking a moment of consideration before he sighed. He leaned back and rubbed the side of his neck, looking over at the boiled sweet potatoes instead of her. “Yeah, well, I hope you don’t get too used to it.” 

Ouch. If April hadn’t gotten good at schooling her emotions, she might have actually flinched.

"Don't worry about it, I hadn't planned on it."

She turned back to the stove, picking up a fork and stabbing into the vegetable to see if it was the proper softness for its next stage. If she happened to imagine it was her insensitive best friend she was stabbing into, he wouldn’t have to know. 

Out of the corner of her eye, April saw Donatello press his elbows against the counter right as buried his face in his hands. She raised an eyebrow as his shoulders sagged and disappointment seemed to leak out of his pores, but her potatoes were done, so that was a conversation for another day. Probably. 

Carefully grabbing the pot, April poured the water into the sink, setting the pot down gently on the counter before placing her bowl, small knife and wooden spoon next to it. She looked over her set up before nodding and pulling out her phone. 

“Huh,” Donatello said, voice inquisitive and confused, “I thought you would have started working on them immediately.” 

She clicked her tongue, “They just came out the water? I am not my mama, my fingers are not trained to do this.” 

He snorted, “What finer way than to train by doing?”

“Since it matters so much to you, why don’t you do it?”

“It’s not my mother’s recipe.” 

April chuckled at how quickly Donatello answered, relieved at how quickly they were able to bounce back after Donatello’s comment. They’d even managed to make comfortable small talk as she waited for her potatoes to cool off more. 

When April deemed the studs cool enough to gut, she noticed how intensely Donatello seemed to be about the process and invited him to a closer look as a tease. She was surprised when he took the invite without a second thought. 

“I didn’t know you were that into my mother’s recipe.” She joked. 

Donatello didn’t reply for a quick moment, instead stepping closer to her so his shoulder brushed against hers. His head tilted slightly to the side, some of his locs falling into April’s peripheral vision.  

“I’m not – no offense to your mom though. I sort of just want to be here.” 

She acknowledged his answer with a hum that was too much like a squeak in her ears. She tried not to think too much about how close Donatello was, but it was difficult considering how impractical him leaning against her was. To her, Donatello was all about practicality; it was strange to see him throw it to the wind.

For a while, they stood there in a thick silence as Donatello watched April, who was timing her deep breaths so she didn’t come across as nervous. 

“Ah,” April called absentmindedly as she looked at her table set up. 

“Hm?” Donatello raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t look up from the mixture she’d made in the bowl. 

“I don’t have any vanilla abstract.” She could have sworn she grabbed some out of the cabinet, but maybe it was pushed back a little too much for her to grab it when she grabbed everything else.

She reached up and opened the cabinet, looking over the content before seeing the small bottle, only to let out a small exclamation when Donatello reached up and grabbed it instead. 

His chest pressed against the back of her shoulder, his other hand pressed against the table, inadvertently pressing April against the table as well. He leaned over her shoulder slightly as he put the bottle in front of her, his arm coming around her shoulder as he playfully scolded her for being too short to get it.

Donatello almost questioned April’s lack of retaliation just was she turned in his arms to look at him. 

He froze the same time April did. 

If April leaned in just a little bit, she could press her lips against his chin in a kiss. She was sure Donatello had the same idea because his eyes scrolled down to her lips before jumping back up. April wasn’t sure if it was her mind playing tricks on her, but she was sure he did the same thing two to three more times. 

“D-Dee,” April softly breathed, taking in a breath when Donatello’s eyes caught her lips and didn’t avert from them. 

The easy fix to the situation would be for Donatello to remove his arm and step away, but he remained frozen, simply admiring April’s face. His eyes started to blink shut as he very slowly, very hesitantly leaned into her. The fact that April’s eyes started to shut as well almost emboldened him. 

“April.. I–”

Whatever small spell that had come over Donatello suddenly was broken when the frame of his glasses clinked lightly against hers, and he pulled away from her as if she said she was sick with a high fever. He surveyed the kitchen, disdain growing on his features as he took in the normalcy of their surroundings. 

“Uhh,” April let out confusedly. 

Donatello stared at April as if she’d grown extra appendages all of a sudden, like she was the one who tried to initiate a kiss randomly and he was offended by it. Then, his face dropped into a mix of disappointment and apologetic. His mouth opened and closed, only small groans and cheeps managing to sound out of his chest, occasionally he’d say her name, each time with a tone completely different from the last. 

Soon, he yelled at the ceiling, “Holy ruffles and hot cheese!” and turned around sharply. 

April could only stare open mouthed as Donatello stiffly walked out of the kitchen, his head tucked so intensely that April almost feared his chin would concave his chest. She was shocked into immobility before she ducked under the table to check if there were any cameras or mics set up, just in case she was being punked. She found none. 

She sat against the counter before she let out a befuddled chuckle.

He was about to kiss her, right? Just out of nowhere like that? 

That was weird, right? That wasn’t totally normal for Donatello at all. 

She covered her face, groaning while she tried to unravel her dear best friend’s motive in what he was trying to do. 

.o.O.o.

Donatello liked to think of himself as a natural charmer; sure he could flirt, he didn't have to try that hard. He was lucky enough to have inherited his fathers natural charisma and smooth talking traits. He knew he could come across as suave and alluring if he actually set his sights on being perceived that way. 

And yet he was foolish enough to let Leonardo convince him that it wasn't enough. As the stars would align, Leonardo just seemed to inherit much more of their father's natural charisma than he did. Even with his propensity to fumble the bag at the worst moments, Donatello knew that Leonardo’s charm could outmatch his own, so he let his genius take a back seat to his brother’s teachings. 

And because of that, Donatello spent the entirety of the past 60 hours fumbling through a balance of being obvious enough for April to take a hint but not pushy. He would be perfectly fine basking in April’s attention, and then his mind would rapidly fire possible times to confess, and his words would flood out of his ears leaving him to stutter. Or there were moments where he and April were spending time together, telling jokes and enjoying each other’s presence in the living room before one of his brothers walked in and gave them a particular look. It made him a little self-conscious and clammy, and before he knew it, he’d managed to put his foot in his mouth ten times over.

And then, he’d even tried to kiss her – completely at random – in his family’s kitchen with no flair nor pizzazz. 

The two days before Christmas eve were the worst times of Donatello's life and it was entirely his fault. He was no closer to being April's boyfriend than he was the night he realized he wanted to be. 

Donatello groaned, looking down at his notes as Leonardo looked over his shoulder at them. 

Leonardo hummed, pointing to a growing collection of points that Donatello wrote out, “You’re not gonna be able to confess like that, she’ll take it as a fight invitation.” 

They were in Donatello’s room, finally going over more plans Donatello could execute before finally taking the plug in hopes of April’s returned affection. It was well past midnight – basically Christmas eve – and Donatello had to admire his twin’s persistent help despite no doubt messing up his “newly reformed” sleep schedule.  

Donatello pulled the notebook closer to his face, squinting at it and rereading his words before sighing. “You’re right. There’s no way April would respond positively to me throwing a mistletoe at her.” 

Leonardo chuckled, “That’s more Mikey’s speed, isn’t it?”

“I could have Mikey throw it. She might have a more positive reaction if that’s the case.”

“Okay, fair. But there’s no plan after that, is there?” 

Donatello scratches his head with the end of his pen, “If she catches it at a certain angle, I could sneak under it and–” 

Leonardo sighed, leaning back against Donatello’s bed as if he was the only one tired, causing the young genius to smack his lips. It wasn’t Donatello’s fault that the borderline insomniac happened upon him when he was brainstorming, and it also wasn’t his fault that he could only brainstorm in the middle of the night once April went off to bed. It wasn’t as if Donatello forced him to help at this moment either.

Donatello lightly groaned as he let the small notebook and pen fall back on his desk, “Listen, if you don’t want to be here–”

“Again, why can’t you just tell April how you feel?” 

“A confession without proper courtship is bound to end in heartbreak, Leo. I’ve said all this before.” 

Even without looking at him, Donatello knew Leonardo was rolling his eyes. 

“Haven’t you and April passed that point a while ago.” 

Donatello actually looked at his brother, eyebrow raised in confusion, “And when have we ever done that?” 

“Haven’t you two already been going out on dates and grossly flirting in front of people? I’d say your courtship days are over, fair knight.” 

He rolled his eyes while Leonardo chuckled to himself, obviously pleased with the reference he’d made, but Donatello wasn’t so easy to entertain. He waved it off, turning back to his desk to cross out the ideas he’d spend about an hour coming up with with a red pen. “We only did all of those things because we were fake dating. They hardly count in the long run.” 

Leonardo squinted at the ceiling; he wasn’t talking about those times, but years of dressing up with each other just to try out new restaurants, or even the few times his tactical brother forbad the usual entourage from whatever event he and April had planned for themselves. It read as a date to them even as they decided to sneak along anyways under the radar.

Well, whatever. He knew better than to try to argue with Donnie while he was tired, especially when he could be as stubborn as a mule when he was ten toes deep in whatever delusion he was in. 

“Why’d you bring this up again?” Donatello asked, leaning back against his chair as he waited for his next plan to formulate. “Are you already tired of helping on this hopelessly romantic endeavor of mine?”

Leonardo snorted at his brother’s phrasing as the young man snorted at himself, and shrugged, cuddling up with one of Donatello’s pillows, turning away from his brother as he yawned, “I just think it’d be better to try to woo someone who’s clearly already been wooed, you know?”

“While I would normally agree with that statement, I don’t see anyone who’s ‘clearly already been wooed’ enough to ask out.” 

“We should definitely get your eyes checked then.” 

“Disgustingly loud scoff, I’m once again noting how optimistic you are in this impossible situation.”

Leonardo snorted, “Impossible situation, he says, as he asks me for help in said situation. Something he would never ask me to do if he thought this situation was impossible.” 

Donatello adjusted his glasses, finally scooting up to the table to write down his new plan. “There is a small percentage that I’ll be able to properly romance April, and I decided I would take it. Sue me.” 

“Did you do that tidbit of math all on your own? Hm? Find that percentage on your little abacus?” 

He was being mocked, how typical of Leonardo. “Yes, I did. Are you happy about that?” 

Leonardo laughed, feeling humored. “Yep, very much like you to have thought out everything to an exact science.”

He was really giving him too much credit; Donatello wished he was more like that. Maybe then he wouldn’t be falling over himself trying to make kissing his best friend a permanent ordeal. 

“I have to have all my bases covered at the very least.”

Leonardo sleepily chuckled, “Ah, perfectionist Don-ton, back on that case. Even with something like a love confession, there has to be as many fail safes as he has toes.” 

Donatello could tell Leonardo was trying to make light of the situation, and he would hate to be the one to bring the mood down. However, maybe it had something to do with the lateness of the night, or maybe Donatello was starting to get more comfortable with his stupidly big and dumb heart on his sleeve, but he twirled his pointer finger around his thumb. 

“I just… have to be sure I can handle it if she tells me no. No regrets and what have yous, but I,” he took a really deep breath, weakly laughing when he let it out, "I kind of don't want my heart broken." 

Leonardo paused. There in Donatello’s voice was a softness that was reserved for nights like this. Where Donatello whispered confessions to Leonardo as if he hoped the stillness of night would steal them away before they reached his ears. Where Donatello shared insecurities that Leonardo had wished were untrue the second Donatello said them to him. 

It appeared that this night was one of those nights where Leonardo felt a protectiveness over his brother that seemed almost undeserved to the current situation at hand, once all the variables were considered. 

“Donnie,” Leonardo called.

Donatello glanced at him again, watching as Leonardo turned on his back and his arms raised up and open, waiting for his brother to fall into his comfort. Donatello clicked his tongue as Leonardo curled his fingers to bait him in his embrace, doing it again as he put his pen down and scooted out of his chair. 

As a last wave of resistance, Donatello laid next to Leonardo, although the top of his head pressed against the elder's shoulder. They didn’t speak as Leonardo’s hand fell awkwardly against Donatello’s forehead. He felt a sudden wave of sleepiness hit him, and his eyes felt heavier with each gentle tap of Leonardo’s finger tips. 

“I think you’re going to be alright, Donnie,” Leonardo sighed, “even if you can’t see it, I’m still rooting for you to win, buddy.” 

The sentiment was nice, to say the least, and Donatello hoped with Leonardo’s somewhat blessing, that everything could go by as smoothly as possible. 

.o.O.o.

April was – confused, to say the least. Or she thought she was confused. There were a lot of difficult unidentifiable emotions swirling in her head at the moment, but confusion was the easiest to pick out. 

She took a deep breath, trying to force herself to relax once more. 

Her and Donatello's fake dating ploy had gone on too long, following them to the holiday, to Donatello's home. It wasn't supposed to be like that, and although April was happy she wouldn't be hearing those gut-wrenching words of Donatello ending it, she was made aware of just how far she'd been pushing her best friend recently. 

Donatello had been acting, well, not weird. She'd known him long enough to know what weird qualified for him, and this wasn't it. But he was certainly acting differently. Strange in a sense that April couldn’t put her finger on no matter how she tried to spin it. 

He was more aware of her, in a sense. Not that Donatello was oblivious to the people around him, but he seemed to be more cautious with her than usual. It was like he craved her attention, but didn't know what to do with it once she gave it to him. He would be slightly irritable whenever his brothers or his dad or even Sheldon interrupted them, yet still looked for their company when it was just the two of them. Any skin-ship he attempted ended just as soon as it started, and even when it lasted longer than three seconds, he was jumpy in her embrace. Like he was and wasn’t getting what he wanted. He was like an anxious cat. 

It left April feeling confused and stuck, too many emotions to pry apart herself. 

And whenever April had a stew of emotions she couldn't handle, she always took it to Raphael, who welcomed her with open arms.

One thing April loved about staying at the Hamato household was Raphael's balcony. 

It directed to the east, giving it the perfect view of the sunrise. Raphael had a little heating system set on it and a rain cover, so even with the cold winter breeze and the flurries of snow, it was still warm enough to sit on and meditate. 

And that was exactly what April and Raphael elected to do together on the start of Christmas eve. 

The barely there sunlight reflected off the snow, painting them in a somber blue hue even as the sun rose, but the hum of the heater, the cup of hot steaming tea set off to the side, and the presence of her warm, teddy bear of a friend made the morning pleasurable. 

Though, it wasn't without its faults, considering her mind continued to be her worst enemy. 

April closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath again and she’s too aware of when Raphael does the same.

She spent the next twenty minutes taking deep breaths, trying to clear her mind and find her center. She tried to reground herself, and find her peace as she let her breath flow as deeply as she could take it in. 

It was no use.

No matter how many times she's tried to clear her mind, it just keeps returning to Donatello's awakened awkwardness. She couldn't even attempt to unstress herself because she couldn't come to peace with why he's acting this way.

At first, she'd thought it was because his family assumed they were dating. She thought he was feeling a little awkward, and needed time to get used to his family's side eyes and his brothers' joking jabs. And she understood that. She figured out at the party he didn't want them to consider them dating in the first place, so now that it was "recent news" to the family, he needed time to adjust.

But those dating barbs never came; not while she was in the room and it didn’t seem like there were any outside of her presence either. What she thought would have Donatello most on edge didn't even exist in actuality. So, paint her confused as to why Donatello was acting more awkward than he was back at school? 

She isn't sure she can go on her own conclusions anymore.

"Hey, big guy?" She questioned, peeking over at her larger companion. 

Raphael opened one eye, the small tug at his lips showing the humor he found in her interrupting their meditation. "Yeah, Apes?" 

Even his silly mood wasn't enough to quell the sour taste in her mouth. "Has… do you think Donnie's been alright the last couple of days?" 

He looked fully at her, hands now folded in his lap, "What do you mean?" 

She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant but it was failing and lacking her usual charm. "You know, just jumpy. A little on edge and stuff." 

"Ah, er. Maybe it's ‘cause it's the holidays? Y'know how he gets."

April squinted at him, and it wasn't helping his case that he looked away from her.

"Raph." 

His hands shot up as a defense. "Raph doesn't know nothing, April." 

She crossed her arms, eyebrow raised, "I never implied you did." 

“Ah. Yeah, you didn’t.” 

Seconds passed before she sighed, reaching out and gently persuading his hands down, cradling them in her hands. "I'm not trying to intimidate you, Big Red, I'm just a little worried is all." 

His larger hands closed around hers, maneuvering her hands so now he cradled them. "And what do you have to worry about?" 

She looked down at his hands, "What if… Do you think I make him uncomfortable?" 

"What? You?" 

"This whole situation's new. Maybe Donnie didn't wanna be as open about it, and wanted to keep quiet." 

At least, it was easy to tell herself that. Because just like she didn't have a reason to lie to Sunita about the fake relationship, she realized Donatello was probably against bringing his brothers into it for the same reason. And it was less likely that Donatello could save face if they’d thought the two of them were actually together only to find out it wasn’t real in the first place. 

All things considered, it probably ruined his plans to end their fake relationship because his family somehow found out their pretend status. He was probably counting down the days to the perfect moment for them to call it quits, or maybe he'd just assumed it would all fizzle eventually. Now he'd have to revise that. This definitely threw a huge wrench in his plans. 

"Maybe… well maybe Donnie has something to tell you that he doesn't know how?" 

April shook her head. 

What does he have to tell her that has him acting like that? He was overly conscious of his words; about who was in the room with him and what he could read on their faces. Donatello wasn't the suave, bad boy that he thought he was, but he wouldn't be so awkward with his girlfriend around his family either.

Her eyes widened a little, and she took her hands out of Raphael's to fold them on her lap. "Do you know?" 

Raphael felt a bullet of panic burst through his chest as he folded his own hands, swallowing a little. "Does Raph know what?" 

April's lips pinched together, almost as if she was biting her tongue. Definitiveness shone in her eyes like tears and her eyebrows furrowed softly, like she was trying to keep her expression soft, uncaring. 

Raphael hated the expression on her face. While he wasn't as close to April as Donatello, and likely he would never feel the same as his brother did for the young woman, he was so incredibly endeared by her, and he knew what hurt looked like on her. 

He sighed, "Yeah, Raph knows." 

"Ah… And so does everyone else?" 

"Yeah, we all kinda figured it out at some point… Raph has known since the party. Mikey and Leo also figured it out around that time. And I’m pretty sure dad’s figured it out by now too.” 

April slowly nodded her head, trying to keep the shock and embarrassment from bubbling to the surface. 

They knew. They knew it was fake. They knew it was fake for so long and didn’t think to tell her at all.

A small part of April felt a little touched that they'd humored them for so long, but that just meant the inevitable was just along the horizon. 

"Does Donnie know that you all know?" 

Raphael bit his lip, but eventually looked down and nodded. 

Right. Of course. That explains the awkwardness then. 

April noticed Raphael clenching and unclenching his hand in rapid succession. She tried her best to school her emotions before sneaking her hands into his larger ones. 

“Hey, it’s alright.” She squeezed his hands, but she wasn’t sure if she was saying that to Raphael or herself. Sure, she’d hoped she would be able to forgo the embarrassment of having to resort to having a fake boyfriend, but it wasn’t like it was Raphael’s or the family’s fault for being able to figure it out. She could be upset at the fact they all drew it out longer than necessary, but, in all honesty, she was hoping for the same, so she couldn’t really blame them. 

Why hadn’t Donatello just been truthful with her though? 

“April,” Raphael cupped her hands again, patting him lightly as he glanced at her, “Raph isn’t sure that it is.” 

April didn’t respond, just hung her head lowly and let Raphael pull her into a hug, because, no, she supposed it wasn’t as alright as she wanted it to seem. But she didn't want anyone else to know that. 

.o.O.o.

April seemed to monopolize Raphael’s attention the entire day. 

She followed him to his room during breakfast, she sat closest to him during the holiday movie – Olive the Other Reindeer, per her request – she ran errands with him, and even prepared evening snacks together. Wherever he was, she wasn’t too far behind.

It wasn’t too big of a deal. Sometimes, April would spend extended bonding time with one of the brothers. It happened like clockwork, like a seasonal change that was bound to happen sooner or later. Sometimes the family would even place bets to see which Hamato would be in April’s limelight next. It wasn’t worrying to Donatello that Raphael seemed to be her momentary favorite. 

It was worrying to Donatello that he somehow became her least favorite Hamato. 

She barely spared him a second of her time. She hardly even looked at him. Whenever she was left in a room alone with him, no words would pass her lips, and the second he attempted to break the silence at all, she’d found something else to do or somewhere else to be. Just like she did at the party, she would avoid any of his touches, so much so that Donatello could explain it like they were escape attempts.

She didn’t even let him help her in the kitchen when she, he, and Michelangelo were in charge of grabbing popcorn for the late evening movie they all were watching. Normally, she would let him stay around to grab something, joking and laughing about their height difference while cursing his tall gene. But she shooed him away instead with the air of politeness that Donatello could tell was phony.

She’d made it seem like she was only doing so because they were almost done getting all the snacks together, but Donatello could tell something was up. Even Michelangelo saw through her overly polite act, sending Donatello a worried look on his way back to the living room. 

When Donatello plopped down on the couch with a half-filled bowl of popcorn, Raphael and Leonardo both raised an eyebrow at him. He didn’t bother with an answer, he just scooped a handful of popcorn in his mouth as he pouted. He didn’t even look up when April and Michelangelo walked into the room with their arms filled with snacks. 

April paused, scanning the room to see the only space for her happened to be the spot on the couch next to Donatello. She realized Raphael had taken the loveseat and didn’t even have the decency to look at her when her eyes settled on him. After heaving a sigh, she sat next to Donatello, placing a bag of gummies and a large bowl of popcorn between them. They didn’t say a word to each other 

Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael exchanged looks, all of them conveying various layers of worry. Raphael was the most stressed because he knew why the sudden lack of affection had come to be, and refused to give anything away to his younger brothers. Michelangelo and Leonardo, on the other hand, silently talked about how they could help fix the situation, knowing the stubborn couple wouldn’t make the first move. 

They’d all spent the next two movies in this impasse with each other. 

And then, Michelangelo was on the move. 

Neither Donatello nor April thought much of it, being too absorbed in their phone and the movie respectfully. However, if they’d looked up, they would have seen Leonardo giving the young artist a double thumbs up and Raphael continuously shaking his head in disagreement. 

“Ahem!” Michelangelo loudly cleared his throat and called the attention of everyone in the room. 

When Donatello and April looked up, they came face to face with the only accurate mistletoe in the house– wrapped in a purple ribbon for Donatello’s seal of approval – one that Donatello had painstakingly hidden to avoid this exact situation. 

Donatello loured at his brother, mortification and irritation swimming in his eyes as his younger brother looked at him smugly. 

His tone was uppity, warped with pretend class as he boasted, “A mistletoe for the lovely couple?” 

Donatello squinted at him, “Did you go through my stuff–”

April quickly stood up, hands held out as if she were afraid to have offended someone. In her mind, she’d reacted too slowly; she didn’t want to run the risk of embarrassing Donatello or herself by being too eager to kiss him or by kissing him too passionately. She hadn’t registered what Donatello meant when he’d mentioned Michelangelo would tease him as well, but she could put two and two together to get four. 

She wished she’d done something else, however, because there was an uncomfortable silence that lingered in the air, and all four brothers stared at her with wide eyes. 

"A-ah, haha, sorry,” she forced, rubbing the side of her neck, “I'm not really in a kissing mood right now."

Noticing none of his brothers were going to say anything, Michelangelo let out a chuckle that didn’t sound comfortable at all. “Did Donnie do something to put him in the dog house or something?” 

Donatello leaned forward, one of his hands balling on his thigh, “Yes, April, pray tell, did I perhaps do something to upset you?”

April hands drifted to her sides, balling just the same. He was talking so formally all of a sudden, so she knew he was upset. 

“Oh, heh, no, Donnie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your avoidance says otherwise.” 

His tone and curtness knocked the forced smile off her face and quickly replaced it with a nasty scowl. 

“I said you didn’t do anything, Dee.”

"But it's my fault you're upset, isn't it?" 

Her eyes narrowed at him because the anger coating his tone set her on edge. Sure, she was being a little avoidant at that point, but he had no reason to be upset with her. "No. It's not. Because I'm not upset." 

Michelangelo looked at Raphael and Leonardo with wide eyes, worry enveloping his body as he watched April cross her arms and Donatello stand and copy her. Raphael pressed a finger against his forehead, hoping to keep his eyebrows from creasing too much, and Leonardo simply groaned as he slouched into his beanbag. 

"Well, you're certainly acting like it is." 

"But I said it wasn't, so just drop it." 

Is that what she expected of him? To drop an issue that clearly upset her and him? Unthinkable; once again she was acting as if she didn't know him. 

“If you want me to drop it, maybe you should just tell me why you seem to have an attitude all of a sudden.” 

“Well, I didn't have one until you insisted I did so, now, I guess I have an attitude! So there’s your answer you wanted so badly.” 

Donatello rolled his eyes, “Cool, cool, now we know why you have one attitude, mind telling me why you had the first one?”

April threw her hands in front of herself as if she would reach forward and strangle Donatello if she could, “Oh! My god, you have got to be one of the most frustrating son of a–”

Donatello glared at her, “Don’t you bring my dad into this.” 

She threw one right back at him, “It’s a turn of phrase, Donatello.” 

Leonardo loudly clapped, “Wow! Look at that, it’s midnight! Everyone, grab one present to open as per tradition!” He got up from his seat, nearly being knocked down by Michelangelo rushing to the tree. He wasn’t sure if it was the young man’s usual excitement for opening presents, or his need to escape the tense situation he’d unknowingly created. "Guahh boy."

Donatello scowled once more at April before heading to the tree. April didn’t move, keeping her heated gaze on her best friend as he walked away from her. 

Leonardo passed out the gifts, avoiding their father’s gifts since he’d tuckered off to bed earlier. 

Raphael opened a gift from Michelangelo; it was a hand-painted poster of an old family picture that he’d lost to the wind a couple years ago. 

Leonardo opened a gift from Donatello; it was a jersey from one of his favorite basketball teams, signed by the ex-basketball, ex-movie star he seemed to love so much.

Michelangelo opened a gift from Leonardo; it was a box set of expensive jelly paint that he’d been lamenting about wanting for the past year. 

And Donatello opened a gift from April. He hesitated to open it, not knowing what to expect after the showcase she was putting on, and her expression gave nothing away. 

When Donatello opened the box, he wasn’t expecting a soft cotton, varsity-style gray sweater. He tested the material between his fingers, noting how soft it was, but the real kicker was the delicate designs sewn in the cuffs of the sleeve; a small patch of an atom, some music notes scattered along its hem, and a yellow A. Writing across the left side of the front – because April new how much Donatello despised sweaters that had words written across the chest area – was a small embroidered ‘Dorky Pals’ in purple and yellow thread, just under it sat a purple heart made with satin.

“My mom helped me make it, I know how much you like your sweaters that have a certain feel, and they’re usually harder to come by for you.” She huffed; while she was still mad at him, April would never pass up an opportunity to talk up her mother. “I sewed the heart and designs on, though. And it took forever. Especially since they’re two of them.”

Donatello turned to her so fast, she almost worried he’d snap something loose. “They’re–”

“A matching set? Of course.” She was going to say it was because they were dating, but the words tasted like ash on her tongue, and did nothing but fuel the anger and irritation she already felt, so she kept it to herself.  

April smirked pettily, about to bait him into putting it on, but she didn’t have to. She watched with bated breaths as Donatello quickly discarded his favorite purple sweater, tossing it on the couch, and putting the sweater on. 

Donatello placed a hand on the satin heart that sat on his left pec, smiling softly as his fingers danced on the smooth fabric. “I love it,” he whispered. 

“A-ah… I’m glad.” Suddenly, April felt embarrassed about the gift. Donatello never framed himself as the type to like couple sweaters to that extent; seeing him give her such a genuine reaction like that made her think it was overkill. 

As tradition would have it, April should have opened her gift from Raphael, but the taller man safe-guarded the rest of the gifts from her. He looked at Donatello expectedly before signaling to April with his chin. 

Donatello took a deep breath, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his present for her. He held it out to her like a child would trying to give their first valentine to the person they liked. 

April examined the little box, taking it in and considering what it could be before she slowly took it out of Donatello’s hand and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful necklace she'd ever seen. 

April slowly felt the lingering irritation and anger slowly drain from her body, and it was immediately replaced with adoration as she took in the little details of the necklace. The delicate gold chain is not too thick and not too thin, the pendant was formed into a heart with an arrow going through it and had two small gems on it. One purple and one green. The gems in the middle were a dead give away that it was representative of them.

April covered her lips when she felt herself smile as she considers asking Donnie to put it on her, but she's pulled out of it by the cooing of Leonardo and Michelangelo. She glanced over to the trio of brothers, seeing the two pranksters acting overly fond at the two of them, and she would have waved it off as the two brother’s usual shtick if not for Raphael. 

He just looked on while worrying the Christmas sweater he’d been bullied to put on as his eyes shot from her to Donnie. When he saw her gaze on him, he looked away from her

And she paused.

She slowly looked down at the box, at the most beautiful necklace she’d ever been gifted by someone not related to her, and shame, anger and embarrassment all mixed up into one. 

This was all just for show.

The necklace was most likely something he’d gotten when he realized Splinter had told her they were dating, and he wanted to cover his tracks. It wouldn’t be good if he didn’t get her a beautiful gift during their first Christmas together as a couple. 

April wanted so badly to not think about it, and to just go along with the motions, but Donatello didn’t know he didn’t have to pretend anymore. 

Slowly, she cupped one of Donnie's hands, turning it over so his palm was facing the ceiling, and gently placed the box in his head. 

Her head was hanging too low to see the downtrodden expression of Donatello's face. 

"I can't take this." She breathed.

Her eyes widened when her voice cracked. Then her eyes started stinging as mortification burns like lava under her skin, and she knew Raphael would know she isn't as unaffected as she tried to come across. She knew that Michelangelo and Leonardo would read into the emotions that the crack in her voice would convey. She knew Donatello would be able to tell from the look on her face that something was wrong, and be able to connect the dots of why she’d rejected his gift.

They’d all be able to piece together that she knows they all know it’s fake. They’d realize just how hurt she is by it all and why. 

April wasn’t even sure Donatello grabbed the box all the way before she turned tail and walked out of the living room.

She didn't know how to feel about the hurried footsteps she heard behind her. 

.o.O.o.

April tried to push the door close, but Donatello was expecting that, managing to slip in before it could close effectively. She glared at him, eyes still a bit misty from the episode the two of them just broadcasted to his brothers, but the scowl he's throwing her way had about the same heat to it, so he isn't cowering under her wrath like she hoped he would. 

Figures, it makes sense that he'd be just as upset with her as she was with him since they’d just argued. However, that gave him no right to interrupt her choice in dramatics. 

She opened her mouth to complain, but he beat her to it. 

"Why have you been avoiding me all day?" 

April floundered for an answer. That wasn't a starting point she was expecting. There were so many other things for him to throw a fit about. 

She shook her head, "I wasn't–" 

"You were." 

Her frown deepened. "Don't interrupt me." 

"Then don't lie." 

She sighed, trying to calm herself down. "Look, Dee. It's late; it's been a really weird day for us both, I'm sure. Let's just sleep on this and talk in the morning." 

She's avoiding it. She knew she was. She knew he knew she was. But she'd honestly hoped she had more time to prepare for this. After the holidays, maybe. 

"Scoff. I'm not going to go 'sleep on it', April. I'm not going to sleep when I know you're upset and ignoring me for something or another, and I don't know what it is! I don’t get why you’re mad at me!" 

April stopped glaring, and finally took a good look at her best friend. 

The scowl on his face had significantly softened, the anger she was reading in his voice tuckered down and made way for the hurt that was motivating his actions. The determination was clear in the pinch of eyebrows, his wine-colored eyes almost begging as he watched her. 

"Donnie, you didn't do… let's talk about this in the morning, okay–?" 

"But we're both right here, why should this wait until tomorrow?" 

She closed her eyes, trying to keep the sigh she let out from sounding too exasperated. "Dee–"

"No, April, I'm all for giving space when it's needed, but this is something we clearly need to talk about now, isn't it? So why can't we?" He waited for an answer and bit his tongue when she didn't give him one. "It’s about us, isn’t it?" 

Looking off to the side, April nodded. "... In so few words, yes." 

Donatello nodded. This was a start. This was good. "Then it's exactly what we need to talk about–" 

"Why didn't you tell me the guys knew it wasn't real." 

His voice caught in his throat. She wasn’t supposed to know that, and he cursed silently to himself when he figured that might be the reason she’s so upset with him. 

"Because–" he took a moment to think about it, "—well, because I didn't think whether it was real or not would matter after a while." 

"I see." 

From her tone, Donatello didn't think she did. Regardless, the slight lull after her answer told him it was time to come clean. 

"April, when I suggested that we start pretending to date, I wasn't thinking completely straight. I wasn't really considering everything in totality, and once I did, I realized–"

April quickly held up her hands. "Stop." 

"April–"

"No, Dee, stop talking."

He rolled his eyes, "And just why should I do that?"

"Because I'm not ready to hear this." 

Donatello's eyes widened; he tensed as he felt his heart stop even though he could still hear the loud beating in his ears. He blamed his body's contradictory reactions on how heavily April's words settled on his shoulders. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling dehydrated and dry. 

"You aren't even going to hear me out?" 

She slowly shook her head, "Because I already know what you're gonna say, Donnie." She tucked her neck, looking down at the floor with her ears almost to her shoulders, closing herself off. 

"And you… you don't want to hear it?" 

April wiped her face with both her hands, pushing her glasses into her fringe, briefly worrying that the hinges would get caught in her curls. 

"I know I'll have to at some point, okay? Because it's kinda necessary going forward. And I'll listen to you when I'm ready to, but now isn't that time. We can… we can pretend this whole thing never happened, but I don’t wanna hear how final it all is.” 

Donatello grabbed at the front of his sweater. The same styled sweater April was supposed to match with him somewhere down the line. His hand balled up in the same spot where the heart April had painstakingly sewed on for him. 

Ah, this was the rejection he feared. It was just as bad as he assumed it would be. 

No, actually this was worse. Because every time Donatello considered what April looked like as she rejected him, he never considered she would look just as heartbroken as he felt. 

“... April–”

“I’m sorry,” she rushed out. “I shouldn’t act like this, cause it’s not like I didn’t know this would happen from the beginning.” 

Donatello paused at that, because how would she have expected something like this to happen?

“I… what? How?” 

She blew out some air, “Donnie, we can’t keep fake dating forever. We didn’t talk about it, but I know you of all people would know that.” 

Donatello was confused about what seemed like a sudden change in topic, but he still tilted his head and answered, “But… April, I didn’t… even consider this ending. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.”

“You don’t have to be nice about it, Dee.” 

“I’m not, I’m confused.” He rubbed his temple with two of his fingers, “What are we even talking about right now, April?”

April sighed, exhausted from what she thought was Donatello being obtuse. “I’m talking about us ‘breaking up’ so we don’t have to fake date each other anymore.”

“And why are you talking about that when I never mentioned it?”

Donatello didn’t mean for his tone to harden in such a way, but April didn’t know that and responded in kind.

“We’re talking about it because, Donnie, that’s what we’ve been getting to this whole time! I mean, the Dale situation is taken care of! I’m taken care of! You weren’t trying to make Kendra jealous, and your family already knows this whole thing is fake! It only makes sense that your next course of action is to – fake break up with me. Or at least tell me we don’t have to pretend to date anymore. And I don't wanna think about that right now. Just wait for me on this, okay? I don’t want you to break up with me.” 

Donatello felt the short life of his words die on his tongue as he struggled to find a proper sentence to tell the girl. After the last few days of shoving his entire leg into his mouth trying to flirt with her, the extra time he took to stay near her, and the devastation he so clearly felt after realizing she was avoiding him for just little under 24 hours, she still thought he was going to break up with her. He would never (super openly) bad mouth his best friend's interests, but at that moment, he was sure journalism was a dead passion, because there was no way the young woman knew him so well and still decided he would make the decision to break up to end their fake relationship. 

His hands ran through his hair in frustration as he groaned at the ceiling, pushing his locs out of his face as he screamed at her:

"April O'Neil, you absolute fool, I am in love with you. I've been spending this whole time trying to find out how to ask you to be my girlfriend." 

And that… wasn't the way he was hoping to tell her. 

But it was out, so he might as well tell it all before he feels the need to take it back. 

"I just– dammit, April, I love you. In a different way than just a best friend. And I'm not sure how long exactly I've felt like this about you, but I can't fathom a moment where your–" his hands waved around her general presence, "– youness isn't on my mind." 

Donatello watched April's mouth try to shape words, but he sighed, placing his forehead in his palm, losing the nerve to look at her. "I didn't realize it. I didn't think anything of it because, well, I always knew I loved you. You're my best friend for neuron's sake, how could I not after all this time? But I didn't know I was in love with you until I had to act like your boyfriend, and I realized how natural it felt to me.

"Wanting to be with you, wanting to hold hands and kiss, wanting to tell everyone who knows me that we're together? I wanted to do all of that and more, and it never clicked to me that I just… wanted to be yours. Exclusively." 

He was rambling now. He felt his face warm against his hand and he mentally told himself to shut up, but four seconds of silence translated to rejection in the human mind, and it looked like April wasn't ready to form words yet. He didn't think he could handle April's rejection more than once, no matter how misdirected the first one was. 

"D-Donnie!" 

Donatello jolted, mouth finally clicking shut and he pulled his face out of his hands to look at April. 

She was pulling at the ends of her sweater, hands pulling so hard the collar was showing hints of her clavicle. Her eyes were wide, blinking rapidly, and glancing around when she accidentally made eye contact with Donatello and her face was darkening. A deep maroon painted across her face as her lips fell open before pinching closed once again. 

Donatello felt like the biggest dork for wondering if it was a sign she wanted him to kiss her. 

“We…” April finally forced herself to speak, “Okay, we need – let’s sit down and talk about this.”

.o.O.o.

When April said that, she wasn’t anticipating sitting back to back with Donatello on the floor like children in a fight. However, when she thought about it, that was the energy their whole argument projected. Misunderstandings piled on top of each other because the two of them assumed the other’s meaning, one of the most juvenile argument starters in the book. 

Hell, they even had Splinter burst in not too long after, yelling at them about yelling at each other and essentially getting scolded for arguing. He'd dropped their remaining presents off at the door, telling them, "I expect this whole situation to be fixed by sunrise, Merry Christmas!", and shutting the door into their faces. 

It seemed like Splinter had no hope of them reconciling for hours.

April was curled up with her knees against her chest and her face buried in her knees. Neither of them had said anything for a while, and April was ready to take the blame for that one. Even with the confession laid at her feet, the only thing that April could do was replay the entirety of her stay with the Hamatos and cringe at all the signs she’d missed. 

She feared looking back on their entire fake relationship and noting any missed signs there. 

Donatello, on the other hand, was embarrassed at his explosion of feeling, but nothing much else. Of course, he would probably always look back at this moment and wish he’d been a little cooler about the confession, but now that he wasn’t working on hurt and adrenaline, his mind finally wrapped around the most important part of the situation. 

April started avoiding him because she’d assumed he was going to break off their fake relationship. That meant she didn't want their relationship to end, which in turn meant she felt the same as he did, correct? Why else wouldn't she want to hear her freedom from such engagement unless she felt the same as he did?

“So–”

“I–” 

The silence returned. 

April wanted to scream.

“... How long have you liked me?” 

April felt her heart jump at the frank question, feeling her face warm against the fabric of her leggings, but she supposed since Donatello had already done a lot of the talking, it was her turn finally. 

“I don’t know exactly when, but I figured it out when I was in your dorm that one time.” 

“Hmm,” Donatello tilted his head, “A little more specific please?” 

“That time I cried?” 

“Ah.” When he wanted to raise hellfire on Dale. “Was that why?” 

She chuckled. “It was one of the reasons, yes.” April uncurled a little bit, and entangled her fingers. “It was a little dramatic of me to cry about a realization like that, all things considered, but I was super stressed. I was kinda worried I would ruin our friendship with the whole fake dating thing at that point.” 

“Heh, you too then?”

April chewed her bottom lip, “And you’ve liked me a while?”

Donatello sighed. He was happy that April’s tone no longer bordered the heartbroken edge it had earlier, but he was close to feeling teased with the chipper one she had now.

“Like I said, I’m not really sure when it started.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, but when did you realize?”

Donatello pursed his lips, “When you texted me. Right before you got back in town.” 

She snorted, “Ah, the charm of Donatello Two must have brought you around.” 

“I resent that statement so badly, it almost physically hurts me.” 

April chuckled, “So, you’ve been into me since I came back and never said anything?” 

“I liked being your best friend, you know?” Donatello sighed out, feeling his tongue become free as April finally leaned her back against his, finding security in her comfort. “Even if we decide to go back to how things were, it’d be weird for a while, but I want to be with you. But I still want to be with you romantically too.”

April was silent, working over his words in her head before she sighed, “I want that too.”

Donatello’s eyes locked on to his thumbs pressing against each other in his lap. He felt the edges of his lips pull up in a small smile, already knowing the answer to the question he was about to ask. “Will you have me then?” 

“... I don’t think it’s fair that you get to confess twice and I don’t get to even once.” 

Donatello only noticed the warmth against his back disappear when April pressed a hand against his knee, bringing his attention to her as she slowly crawled to sit in front of him. 

April breathed in deeply, her chest expanding as she held her breath and forced the courage she let slip out of her grasp the second she realized she liked Donatello more romantically than she initially thought. She was almost ashamed at how cowardly she’d be acting about the whole thing. Even with the added layer of heartbreak, of the worry that she would be the one to break their friendship, of not knowing what the outcome would be, it wasn’t in her nature to turn tail and hide the way she’d been doing. She’d almost felt the need to apologize to Donatello for dragging this out far longer than needed. 

She hoped her next statement would make up for it. 

“Donnie, I also want to be yours. Exclusively. Will you have me?” 

And even though Donatello had figured it out, had already found the answers to his own question, when it was thrown back at him, he was hit with a sense of anticipation so large he wondered if April had planted a bomb in his chest somehow.

He nodded, and April smiled at him so sweetly that Donatello felt that he might openly swoon for the first time in his life. 

“April, can I kiss you? Please?” 

She smiled, “I’d like nothing more.” 

Donatello cupped both of her cheeks, holding her still as he leaned forward and kissed her. The apples of her cheek pressed against the palm of his hands, making her notice the difference in warmth between her flushed cheeks and his cold hands. 

It was soft, almost as soft as their first kiss but not as hesitant. Even when he had permission to kiss her the first and second time, this was the first kiss he’d given April where he felt he had the right to. It felt like a privilege that he was recently granted the actual permission to. 

It always felt good kissing April, but now, it felt like a birthright to press his lips against hers. 

When April wrapped her arms around his waist, scooting closer to properly hold him in her arms, Donatello pulled back from the kiss a little because he worried the smile on his face would disturb it. 

He chuckled against her lips when she let out a hum of discontent at their first official kiss being disrupted before she got her fill. He wondered if she’d be so unhappy to know why he smiled so hard.

“You know,” Donatello hummed, unserious as he let April continue to press kisses against his face, “ I usually don’t like when couples get together on holidays. It kind of takes away from the anniversary dates.”

April pulled away, raising an eyebrow. “Are you saying we should get together after the holidays? Because I no longer wanna kiss anyone other than my boyfriend, so you’ll have to wait until then for those. You know, if that’s what you’re saying.” 

Donatello didn’t think he cared much for semantics like that, but he could have swooned a little from April referring to him as her boyfriend and meaning it.

“I… might be able to overlook it this one time then.” 

She scoffed, “Yeah, I thought you might.” 

He leaned down to kiss the smirk off her lips, but when he pulled back, it remained. So he tried again, and then again. He would try as many times as it took, because now he had the right title to do so.