Work Text:
“Hello?”
You knocked gently against the oak doors. The Catholic church next to your apartment always loomed over you. The intricate stained-glass windows and crosses became fairly familiar to you over the years. The church was just a part of the tapestry of your life, but you never went inside. Not that you had any good reason to, but you still felt a little bad that the thought never crossed your mind.
The unintentional guilt just happened to come to a head tonight, as you stood before the main entrance. It was a bit of an impulse decision, but you texted Donnie to meet you here instead of your usual hangout spot. You two had been spending a lot more time together, outside the lair. You really didn’t know why he didn’t want to just stick to his lab or the living room, there was plenty to do there.
Maybe he just needed to get out of the sewers? Eh, whatever.
You knock again, listening to the hollow sound echo inside. It was haunting.
“Uh…sanctuary?” You inquire to no one in particular.
Shouldn’t churches be open all the time? Reaching down to the handle, you were surprised to find it unlocked. What luck.
“Woah,” you gasp, creeping into the main area. The nave, if you could recall your bible study lessons, was what it was called. It had been years since you’ve even stepped foot in a church.
Looking around the pews, there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. No late night sinners praying for forgiveness or old ladies reading the bible. Just a huge, empty chapel. There were a couple candles flickering dimly in lanterns, at the ceiling and around the pulpit, so there must have been someone around. It made you feel a little better about barging in, at least there was an employee still here. An employee of God.
You chortle to yourself as you get settled. The front row seemed the only appropriate seating option, and you ease onto the worn wood of the bench. The pew was a tad uncomfortable, or maybe it was just the awkward feeling of being inside a church. The holy beauty of the tapestries, the windows, the image of the Virgin Mary and Jesus statues staring wistfully into the audience: all of it sent a chill up your spine.
“Jesus– I mean…Jeez.”
Phew, that was a close one.
You needed to relax. Maybe while you were here, waiting for Donnie, you could try and shake out the ‘ol praying hands. You were probably due for a talk with the Big Guy anyway. This was a judgment-free zone, just imagine Him sitting backwards in a folding chair and air your grievances.
The kneeler groaned with your added weight as you shifted to get into prime prayer position. At least they had some velvet upholstery. The only comfortable way to sit in a church was apparently if you were on your knees in penitence. You fiddle with your hands, trying to find the best praying gesture. Folding your fingers, or the classic hands clasped together, palms flush? You kind of looked like you were trying to do some hand ninjitsu or something.
“Just–” You take in a steadying breath, calming your nerves. “There.”
Once you have your hands positioned, you shut your eyes. For some reason, you felt a lot more relaxed now. Having to look at all the religious symbols was making you jumpy.
And now, the moment of truth.
“...”
Huh, that was weird. You didn’t even think anything, let alone say anything out loud. Let’s try that again.
“...Ahem.” You cough.
Perfect.
“Augh, this is so stupid. I don’t know what to say.”
You sigh to yourself, reveling in your own self-pity. This was depressing. Sitting like this with your eyes closed was making you almost too relaxed, and you couldn’t think of a simple prayer. The only thing that came to mind was the bedtime one you used to do when you were a kid. Oh no, that was making it worse.
How did it go again? ‘Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep,’ or something like that. Your eyelids grew heavier with every word.
Maybe you could just sit here for a second, just to calm down. You fell asleep in church all the time listening to the pastor’s sermons. How was this any different?
—
Donnie punched the coordinates you sent him back into his T-Phone. For some reason, the results kept popping up as a church! Surely you didn’t mean to send him to a place like that. It just didn’t seem like the kind of establishment you’d want to hang out in. Especially in a…romantic context.
Plus, he wasn’t too sure how welcomed he would be going in as a mutant turtle. Sure, churches were accepting of all kinds of people, human or otherwise. Wasn’t everyone made in His image? Even Donnie? His brothers, dad, and all the other mutants he knew probably didn’t look anything like what God was supposed to look like. But who was to say? He was a man of science, not theology.
“Somehow, I feel like everyday we stray further from God’s light.” He sighs, landing on the sidewalk from the perch atop your roof. He felt kind of corny saying that out loud, considering he was now standing face-to-face with the titular building.
The church…in all its divinity. Donnie gulped, all of the sudden feeling quite small.
Looking at the GPS, this was the right place. And the tracking pin from your phone pointed in this direction. Even though your apartment was right there, just a couple of feet away. He could see your window from here too. Maybe he could just convince you to move your little congregation to your room instead? It looked so cozy from here, so familiar.
No, that was ridiculous. Wherever you wanted to meet was fine, it was more than fine! The topic of your hangouts was sort of a sore subject with Donatello. Not because he didn’t want to do what you wanted to do, it was just…
Complicated. That was the best way to put it.
“Oh well, here goes nothing.” Donnie cracks his neck, putting on a tough face.
Gathering up all the confidence he could, he bursts through the large double-doors.
“EEP–!”
That wasn’t exactly the entrance he intended on making. The doors were thankfully pretty heavy, so all they did was slowly creak open. At least they didn’t slam against the wall. The ancient hinges screech through the empty hall, announcing his presence.
Donnie’s newfound bravery was replaced with sheepishness. Chuckling, he takes a quick look around.
“No big deal, I’m sure nobody heard that.” He whispers, tip-toeing forward.
Behind him, the large doors seem to swing back closed by themselves. The loud CLICK of them shutting makes Donnie spin around.
“No…that didn’t just happen? Was that a ghost? A Holy Ghost?”
The church was empty, save for one person at the first row of pews. They must be a regular here, the way they were bent over in prayer. He walked on, furiously texting you. This place was giving Donnie the creeps.
“Where are you? Being here feels…kind of sacrilegious.” He winces, glancing around.
Mindlessly, Donnie made his way to the very end of the pews to stand at the pulpit. The podium cast a long, intimidating shadow over him. Tearing his nervous gaze away, he landed on the person sitting at the front row. They must be pretty deep in prayer, their head was completely slumped over onto their hands.
Donnie’s heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the patron. He almost forgot someone else was there. He was usually a bit high-strung all the time, but the eerie silence was making his skin crawl.
Giving them a polite, if not slightly awkward smile, Donnie backs away. “Sorry, thought you were someone else…”
The only response he gets is a muffled snore.
“Wait—“
Reaching out, Donnie pulls them up by the shoulder. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes slowly blinking up at him.
This was no patron, it was you!
“Hey! What are you doing?” He whisper-shouts, shaking you about. “I’ve been texting you!”
In your tired state, it takes you a second to realize who just woke you up. And to realize that you were fast asleep.
“ACK–!” You shriek, practically jumping up. “I– Wait, how long have I been here?”
Donnie shimmies past you and places his hands on your shoulders again, sitting you both down.
“Quiet down! What is up with your sleep schedule anyway?” He jokes, giving you a small squeeze.
You had been having trouble sleeping lately, but how did Donnie know that? You smirk up at him, rubbing at your eyes.
“It’s kind of the middle of the night. Not all of us are night-stalking vigilantes. Some of us have real jobs…during the day.”
You let out a yawn, shamelessly stretching out into Donnie’s personal space. He rolls his eyes, letting you fall into his lap a bit. He couldn’t argue with that logic. Nor could he protest to you hugging him.
“Are you into church now, is that it?”
Huffing, you kneel back down to resume your prayer. Donnie follows suit, albeit a bit hesitantly.
“Only when they’re open 24/7,” you frown. “I just wanted to…y’know.”
You really didn’t know why. But, you were curious to see if Donnie could tell.
He hums to himself while mimicking your pose, kneeling over and folding his hands. Watching his oblong number of fingers interlaced with each other is far more interesting for some reason.
After considering it, he shuts his eyes as well. “Like Mcdonald's.”
You choke on a giggle, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle yourself.
“…God? Are you there? Can I get a #5 with sweet and sour sauce?”
Donnie sounds like he has to hold himself back too. Eventually the two of you just crack and give in to laughter. Being together seemed to make you both forget how alone you were in the church.
You snort, covering up your mouth in shame.
“Alright, enough! This is a sacred place. Have some respect.”
But, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh at you even more.
“Aww, that was adorable!” He gushes, poking at your cheek. And he thought he had a dorky laugh!
Damn, you couldn’t resist when he teased you so playfully. But you wouldn’t break. He continues prodding at you, waiting for your stone-cold scowl to disappear. Any minute now.
“How can the sacredness of this place compete with how silly and cute you are? Honestly? What if Mcdonald’s is my church?”
You have to bury your face in your hands. With a quivering lip and shaky shoulders, you can only shake your head.
“S-Stop.” You sputter, warning Donnie. He sure knew how to wield humor like a blunt instrument. Not quite as well as his bo staff, but still.
When he finally stops his jabbering and poking, you flit one eye open. You look to your right, finding him staring at your face, and with such a smug smirk too.
There it was.
“Okay, I give. Uncle,” you grin, hands falling to your lap in defeat. “You’re so annoying sometimes.”
“You have no idea.”
You turn to give him a more earnest look. It had almost slipped your mind that perhaps your dates with Donnie shouldn’t consist only of witty digs and banter.
Tonight was date number four, and it was honestly sort of a surprise to you. A week ago, you probably would have sworn up and down you wouldn’t make it to two. Maybe you could chalk the record up to your boundless charm and dashing good looks?
Unbeknownst to you, Donnie was feeling the same way. Call it rejection anxiety or imposter syndrome, but he just didn’t think he’d be so lucky. Not only did you agree to a date, you agreed to multiple dates. As in plural!
You two sit in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. There weren’t any rules against just sitting quietly in a church at night, right?
“Thanks for coming here. My room’s kind of a mess right now, and the lair—“
You stumble over your words. That last part sort of just…came out. You cut Donnie off before he can comment on it though.
“Well, you know what I mean. It can get pretty crowded there anyway.” You wave your hand at him, dispelling any doubt.
A tiny bit of sweat begins to form on Donnie’s brow. As if you actually think he didn’t notice your sudden change in tone, the way your voice hitched? He knew all your tells.
Still, he didn’t want to really talk about it either. He returns your small smile with his own.
“Yeah, crowded. Haha…” He chuckles.
“Why must our rendezvous be hidden under the cover of night? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”
The mood was getting a little too dour for a second there. Time to try to lighten things up.
“Ha-ha.” Donnie utters sarcastically under his breath.
“That’s it, you’re embarrassed of me. The public shame, the ridicule!” You throw yourself over his lap again, lying fully on your back.
Your pathetic attempts to make Donnie flustered were admirable, but useless. Not even if you were making him sweatier. Calmly, he slides an inch or two down the bench. “No, I just prefer the light of the harvest moon.”
As your head falls against the seat, you give him the stink eye. “We’ve got ourselves a real romantic here.”
You knew you guys couldn’t really go out on daytime dates. New York was still unfortunately not too keen on mutants. You suddenly felt sobered up thinking about it.
“Okay,” you sigh, sitting up. “Let’s just skip all that. How are you, what’s happening in the criminal underworld?”
“Oh, you know. Foot Clan, petty thieves, same old, same old.”
You nod lazily along as he goes on.
“Actually, there was this fascinating article on genetic engineering I found! I was working on my retromutagen compound, trying to streamline the production process and whatnot. Just when you think you’ve used every kind of molecular centrifuge.”
Suddenly, he stops. He did have a tendency to rant about science stuff when allowed. His brothers usually shut him up after only a couple of seconds though. But you were silent. You were being so nice, it was actually making him blush.
You cock your head to the side. “Lose your train of thought?”
“Uh, I don’t know?” He scratches the back of his head, looking over to you. “Just surprised you haven’t interrupted me yet. I know I can get kind of boring sometimes.”
Self-deprecation was sadly a part of Donnie’s core personality. You were used to it by now, but it was still a bad habit. Quickly, you slide closer to him and pinch at his bicep, snapping him out of it.
“I’m sorry— Boo, boo.” You shove a thumbs-down in his face, mockingly wagging it around.
He rolls his eyes, batting you away. “Please, don’t even joke about that.”
His tone was tired but not too stern. You pull away, throwing your arm over the back of the pew.
“Seriously, I don’t mind. I don’t know all that much about science, but I do enjoy your infodumping. It’s like being back in Scholar’s Bowl.”
Donnie leans back, following your gaze with eagerness.
“Do you really mean it?” He looks at you with awe.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
You stick your tongue out at him playfully and you’re rewarded with one of Donnie’s rare smiles. The one that’s wide enough to show off his tooth gap.
Damn, that was cute.
“But, uh…what’s Scholar’s Bowl?” He searches around the room, trying to look for the answer in his head. “I’ve never heard of it.”
You shake your head a bit to rid yourself of the incoming wave of fluffy feelings. It was hard to focus on what he was talking about with his silly, adorable smile plastered on his face.
“Just an after-school thing I did. It’s a bunch of quizzes, like a trivia competition?”
You watch as Donnie’s eyes fall back on you, and light up. You had a sneaking suspicion that he’d be interested.
“So it’s like…a battle of intellect?”
“Yup, all the schools compete against each other. It’s fun and educational.” You muse, twirling a piece of hair between your fingers.
Weird, you didn’t usually do that. You drop the lock with an embarrassed smirk.
Donnie, despite his reputation for being observant, overlooks your shy expression. The stars sparkling in his eyes must be obscuring his vision.
“Educational and fun? That’s the best kind of fun!”
You chuckle at his enthusiasm, standing up to work out your restless legs.
“I could have really used you on my team too. I was always shit at the science and math categories, my forte was pop culture.”
You feel a warmth spread through your fingers and toes, thinking about you and him like that. You two could absolutely demolish a trivia night, or Pictionary. With his book smarts and your…(arguably useless) pieces of random facts, your combined powers would be unstoppable.
Donnie stands up too, walking behind you over to the side of the pews. There were plenty of hallways and rooms you two could explore, but the church didn’t have much else to offer. It was pretty, but that was it.
“Dang, I didn’t realize this place was so…” He trails off as he follows along. “What’s the word I’m looking for?”
You saunter over to the confessional booth nearby, peeking in to steal a look or two. You’ve never been in one of these things before either.
“Ornate? Gaudy? Pretentious?” You slip past the corner to open up the curtain, beckoning Donnie to step inside.
“I was gonna go with sanctimonious.”
He takes your invitation and takes a seat. The booth was only about as big as a cabinet, so it was awkward for him to sit in it. You whistle quietly before moving to the other side.
“Nice word.” You admit.
“Thank you.”
You shift around, finding yourselves in another old piece of wooden furniture. “You’d think they’d spend some of the tithes on more comfortable seats.”
Donnie kicks his foot against the built-in bench, shrugging. “You’re not wrong. Splinter used to have this saying: Riches are like the wind, you only feel it when it’s moving.”
You purse your lips together. “That’s profound. But you’re not the one who’s supposed to dispense wisdom right now.”
“Are you asking me to confess my sins?” Donnie sits up, trying to look at you through the privacy screen that separated you two.
Shifting into therapist mode, you clear your throat and get into a more authoritative position. “I assume it’s been some time since your last confession?”
Ah, you weren’t joking. Donnie tosses you a perplexed look, his eye ridge lowering. Was this some kind of impromptu venting session? He decided to play along for now. There was surprisingly a lot he wanted to get off of his shell.
“Oh boy, where do I start? I’m still grappling with the fact that I’m a young adult, with hangups and petty problems. I’m a recovering know-it-all, I’m overly-critical, I overthink and oversay basically everything–”
“Alright, let’s just slow down.” You shush, chuckling a bit. “I don’t think I’m qualified to handle…all that.”
Donnie sighs with relief, in spite of himself. He was thankful for you cutting him off, he was this close to oversharing too. He clutches at his chest, absentmindedly feeling his heart rate increase.
“Sorry, I’m also a hypocrite.”
You raise your hands, trying in vain to pacify him from across the booth. This setup was a little too detached for your liking now, you wish you could go over and hold his hand or something. Anything to help him through his belittling talk.
“No, you’re not. You can say whatever you want in here, that’s kind of the point.” You smile, peering through the screen.
It’s hard to make out, but you think he shrugs again. You guess that was better than nothing. Donnie goes quiet on the other side, making you feel like you need to fill the silence.
“Uh…my turn?” You venture.
“Sure. Go for it.” His voice sounded only slightly less despondent.
You take that as your cue. There was plenty for you to vent about too, but you might as well take this opportunity to voice some of your concerns. Nothing that pressing, just things that were lingering in the back of your mind.
Maybe it would be best to phrase it in the form of juicy gossip. A spoonful of sugar.
“Wanna know a secret?” You lean up to the thin material of the screen, whispering directly to Donnie.
“What’s that?” He takes the bait.
You take in a small breath through your nose. Hopefully he wouldn’t take this the wrong way.
“I used to hate you.”
A beat of silence follows, Donnie going stock still. His brain seems to lag, like the internet connection cutting out for a second. He knew you were mostly kidding, but based on your shared rocky history, it wasn’t all that surprising.
But, it was true. You two used to be more like frenemies, locked in a tense relationship of one-upmanship and bickering. It was cute, but rather exhausting for other people to endure.
“Sounds about right.” That’s all he offers, causing you to take a pause.
“I mean, only a little bit. I’m sure it was mostly the hormones, or the weird way I like to flirt. It’s more like bullying than flirting.” You scratch an invisible pattern into the side of the booth, sulking into your seat.
“I know, I would have hated me too. If you think I’m a dork now, you wouldn’t believe how insufferable I was before.”
“I think everyone hates their past self, it’s not that weird.” You frown.
The two of you look toward each other for a second before chuckling. To the uninformed observer, your laughs sound stilted, even a little forced. Donnie forgot that you two had that in common, the pessimistic tendencies. It wasn’t depressing though. If anything, it was comforting. You got one another, but you were never too enabling.
“Guess we both have some sins to repent for.” He sets his head onto his hands, feeling slightly less agitated.
You lick at your teeth, squeaking in response. “Yup.”
For a moment, you consider keeping the next confession to yourself. There was one more ugly thought that sat at the tip of your tongue, but it was embarrassing.
“I, uh…I also kind of hated April.”
Once you start, you don’t wait for Donnie to respond.
“We talked about it before, don’t worry. It’s all water under the bridge. But I knew I had a crush on you, even if it seemed like I didn’t.”
It pained you to admit, but it was true. You were actually pretty jealous of April back then, despite your active denial. Dealing with feelings was complicated for anyone, but being an audience to the love triangle of April, Donnie, and Casey was even more confusing. It was hard to be around them sometimes. You still don’t know how Casey worked into it, he didn’t seem like the type to get caught up in that kind of stuff.
“It was a mess of unrequited feelings. That’s what it was. It’s actually kind of funny when I think about it now, hindsight and everything.”
You remember how diluted you were, so quick to reject your obvious feelings for Donnie in favor of resentment. You were convinced that you just didn’t like him, for whatever nebulous reason. Not because you secretly liked him and watching him rub his big, fat crush on April in your face made your blood boil. Those feelings were fleeting memories now, but they still weighed on you.
Jealousy was just about one of the ugliest things to experience, and you feel the old guilt twist at your guts. Ugh, it was sickening.
“Teenagers, am I right?” You quip, waiting for Donnie to chime in.
Donnie takes in all your words, mulling them around in his mind before speaking. There was suddenly a lot more that he had to say to you.
“I’m sorry for keeping this…whatever this is a secret.” He continues to hang his head in his hands, talking into his palm. “I know I’ve been avoiding talking about it–”
Even without the privacy screen, it didn’t take much for you to avoid looking at Donnie too.
“You’re worried your brothers will tease you, I don’t blame you.”
“No, I’m a coward. It’s like– Why should I worry about what they think? I know they don’t mean to make fun, it’s just how we are. It’s not their fault though, I just don’t…” He leans back, vaguely waving his hands about.
“Don’t want to–” You add.
Finally, you both speak in unison.
“Get my heart broken.”
The way your voices fold over one another, you swore it was like something out of a video game. You can see the little achievement banner now: ‘Embarrassing Backstory Unlocked.’
Your throat grows tight, and Donnie gulps. You both didn’t expect to be so on the same page. It was like you read his mind.
“Spooky,” he concedes. “You’re really good at this confession thing.”
Slowly, your foot inches out of the side of the booth. You needed to get up again, the wooden seat was starting to make you really uncomfortable.
“You know me, always full of surprises.”
Donnie doesn’t hear the tiny shift of the wood or the sound of you sneaking over to his side of the booth. You stand at the other curtain, timidly rocking on your heels.
“Same, only my surprises aren’t quite as charming. Some Mr. Right I turned out to be.”
He also doesn’t notice your presence just beyond the curtain. You were so close, maybe a little too close. You think you should stop yourself from overstepping a boundary, but you can’t help but reach a hand out to part the fabric.
With a dry chuckle, Donnie shakes his head. This was supposed to be better, he was supposed to be different. Deep down, he knew he couldn’t stop the inevitable comparison to April. Why was he messing this up? The second-hand embarrassment made him cringe.
Then, you grab his attention with the swift movement of your hand. You tear through the curtain and move to sit next to him. The small bench was barely big enough to hold Donnie, but you try to sit next to him regardless.
“Uh!” He stammers, a redness coloring his cheeks. “I-I don’t think…”
This was definitely too close.
But you don’t care. You needed to look him in the eye, no barriers or awkward feelings would get in the way.
“Why are you so concerned with being Mr. Right? Why not Mr. We’ll See, Mr. It’s Complicated.” You grab at Donnie’s face, urging him to keep his eyes on you.
“Wha–?” He furrows his brow, his gaze trained on your lips. Eh, close enough.
“What I mean is, why are you putting so much pressure on yourself?”
Saying it outloud, the answer was fairly obvious. But your question still stood.
Donnie’s towering height didn’t deter you from leaning closer, craning your head up to maintain eye contact. Your steadfast and straightforward nature made him a little flustered sometimes, it was hard to keep up with you.
But, he kind of liked it. You made him feel exhilarated, his heart hammering in his chest from both nerves and affection. His pulse echoes in his ears as he finds the right words.
“Because I like you. I really like you and I don’t know what to do.”
His eyes go glassy for a moment, but this wasn’t the time to be sad. He couldn’t put all this pressure on you either. But it was the honest truth. He was smart when it came to science and inventions, but love? Real love was a mystery to Donnie.
When you hear his honest, vulnerable confession, it rings true for you too.
Slowly, you move your hands away from his face. Then you lean your head against his plastron.
Donnie moves only slightly to look down at you, an expectant expression on your face. Once again, you surprise him.
“I don’t know what to do either, if that helps?” Your lips draw up into a goofy smile.
Seeing you look up at him so sweetly, Donnie’s heart thrummed even more. It was honestly making him a little dizzy. But there was no roadmap to a real relationship, and you were a completely different person from April. Certainly different from him, but that was good. He liked how different you were, even if you two had similar qualities.
“It does…” He sighs, his hand creeping up to palm at your cheek. “So, now what?”
Shifting the conversation back to the confessional, he smiles timidly and waits for you to answer. He could wait for however long you needed, the tiny room felt a lot less claustrophobic and a lot more relaxing all of the sudden.
“Oh, right. Just do ten Hail Marys and five Our Fathers and you’ll be fine.”
You flick your hand up to sign the cross at him, signaling the completion of your confessions. There had been enough atonement and self-punishment for one night.
Donnie’s chest rumbles, his laughter making your head move.
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” he grins, lifting your head up to meet his own.
The lilt of his voice makes your throat tighten up again. You didn’t really know why, but his body language was so much more confident than before. And who knew his voice had such an effect on you? You didn’t, that’s for sure.
“What do you mean then?” You ask, genuinely curious.
Before you know it, you watch as Donnie lets his eyelids drop and leans in for a kiss. For once, he forgoes talking and allows his actions to speak for themselves.
For the first time in a long time, you feel your face begin to heat up. You didn’t get flustered that easily, but Donnie was being so…
Brazen.
You don’t know if you should slap him or smooch him. Maybe you could lean into it, crash your lips into his even harder. There was that old competitiveness again, it was like how you felt around Donnie when you were younger. If anyone was going to pull the first move in this relationship, it was you!
But, you were afraid of what would happen next. You really didn’t know what would transpire here if you let yourself get caught up in his advances. This was God’s house, after all. You could just feel the disapproving look from up above.
“Hey, Don.”
Donnie stills, his lips ghosting over yours. His breath is warm, and oddly tantalizing.
Fuck, you were turning into a simp with every passing moment. How uncouth.
His words and movements are slow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Yes?”
“Wrong kind of booth.” You smirk.
You move your hand to his plastron to push him away, only from Donnie to catch you by the wrist. The bold gesture ignites a fire in your belly.
“Eh, I’ll just do another Hail Mary or two.” He shoots an indignant, cocky smirk right back at you.
“Wait, wha–”
Donnie flips the script and shuts you up for once, pressing his lips softly against yours. You feel a series of hot flashes overtake your body. As you start to feel motionless, your limbs go slack and your eyes flutter closed. It just seemed inappropriate to look at someone while you were…kissing.
Kissing. Donnie was kissing you. You have a moment of clarity before you feel his tongue slide hesitantly along your bottom lip. Then, your mind goes blank again.
You’re somehow frozen in place. The only movement you can muster is your lips parting slightly, your neck angling in such a way that lets you lean into him. A gasp of surprise from Donnie hums against your mouth as you deepen the kiss.
For what seems like hours, the two of you commit a rather sinful act in the privacy of the confession booth. You feel your eyebrows knit together, reeling from the shameful display.
Another sound from Donnie, a low chur, makes your eyes open again. That wasn’t a sound you’ve ever heard from him before. You separate when you see his eyes are open as well, staring unabashedly at you.
He blushes harder, knowing that he’d been caught. “I’m sorry, you just looked so–!”
“You’re so weird,” you cackle. “If I didn’t find you so cute, I’d slug ya!”
Donnie groans to himself as he watches you step out of the booth, leaving him a bashful puddle of a turtle. He bursts out of the curtain, making you shriek in surprise and run away. Bobbing and weaving through the pews, Donnie gives chase as you put up your dukes, playfully inviting him to spar with you.
“Hey, no running in the church!” He shouts, tackling you to the ground.
“No! No, don’t tickle me! This is torture!”
Your manic roughhousing is promptly ended when Donnie’s eyes travel over to a pair of shoes standing before you two. He travels up, finding a rather perturbed-looking priest holding a douter. He must have been in the process of putting out the candles when he caught two strangers coming out of the confessional to candoodle on the floor.
His face was etched in horror as he pointed to Donnie’s face. “Is that a frog?”
Suddenly, your head whips around to look up. “Oh, shit.”
With all the color drained from his face, Donnie gingerly stands up, pulling you along with him. He is at an utter loss for words, and all he can do is stand there and sweat bullets.
Thinking on your feet, you grab Donnie’s hand and hightail it out of there before the priest can react again. You would hate to have to deal with the wrath of God right now.
Donnie, thankful for your decision to make a speedy exit, gladly lets you drag him behind you. Laughing a bit too loudly, he picks up the pace.
“Peace be with you!” He shouts behind him as you make your way to the main doors.
Right before Donnie can shut them closed, the priest responds out of habit. Perhaps he was just too shocked to do anything else.
“And with your spirit!”
With an ominous thud, the doors shut on their own again. They slam in your bewildered faces.
You wheeze, catching your breath. “I…I thought it was ‘and also with you!’”
Donnie shakes his head, a distant look in the eye. “It’s ‘and with your spirit’ now.”
All at once, your body tenses up and relaxes as you let out shaky laughter. Donnie’s shell knocks against the door as he laughs too, sliding slowly down.
“Jesus Christ,” he sighs.
“How dare you use the Lord’s name in vain!” You gasp, reaching out to take his shoulder. “Have you learned nothing?”
Donnie’s laughter dies down a bit as he picks himself back up, leaning closer to you. “Yes, I learned that I like kissing you.”
His suggestive (and frankly cheesy) attempt at schmoozing you makes your laughter stop as well. You bring your fist up to lightly punch his face away.
“Dork,” you sigh.
“Jerk,” he smiles.