An RP by S3rg3antDucky and Tachigami

His long, elegant finger twisted a section of his hair, a brazen yellow poppy-tone, and let it fall back to the bedsheet, where it stood out in stark contrast against the black silk. He'd been so restless all evening, and come nightfall? Sleep was simply impossible! Perhaps because Donatello was just so unaccustomed to sleeping alone. Yes, that had to be it. The bed was just so big and cold and didn't do well to comfort an incubus that had no human companionship. His hair, lying loosely about his body, acted as more of a cover than the thin, white pair of satin pants that he wore, strung about like spun gold laid around him. He closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. The air smelled of cherry and blueberry, which floated up from a pot on a shelf across the room.

His was a dark bedroom. All the more to set the mood, but perhaps Donatello was just like all his kin, all the succubi and incubi. Perhaps they all liked nice, dark colors in their bedrooms, beautiful oak furnishings, satin and velvet and silk and all those beautifully expensive and deliciously textured cloths in so many colors and forms it was impossible to choose just one, or two. He sighed at the thought, pressing himself down into the silk sheet and breathing in its scent. A nice, natural scent, like grass and earth, and Donatello loved to pull that scent and that smooth, cool cloth over him, huddle down into it, feel it as much as he could, shiver at its scent. His hair twisted around the black cloth, and seemed to become a tangled mess, but as he sat up and ran his hands through it, the strands of bright yellow gold slid away from one another and laid across his back, but still rested on the bed.

Topaz eyes studied the grouping of candles on their glass base. It was the only light and the room, and the flames jumped a little in a very slight breeze from the open window. It was just beginning to lighten up with morning, though, and he could see it through the trees of the park across the street. Such a big, lovely thing, the park. Many cherry trees grew there, and it was just early enough in the spring that they were still wonderfully pink and white with flowers. He could never resist the way they shined like little beacons in a sea of blue, green, and brown, the grass and lake and bark of the trees. He had to draw them, paint them, slide his bow over the strings of a violin to feel the beat of the spring's air. Smiling, Donatello stood, stretching so that his hands were just inches from brushing the ceiling. If one were to count the little black horns on his head, the incubus would be almost six and a half feet tall, and tended to stand a pretty fair ways above the heads of most.

Donatello slipped into a shower so hot that it probably would have blistered the skin of any human. But it warmed him to the core and alleviated some of the pressure built up from loneliness in the evening. He was much more used to the more active form of sleepless night by now. Staring at the tile wall, Donatello imagined it was a calendar and realized today was Friday. So many lovely young men would be out at the park, at clubs or bars, or sitting about the street thinking up something stupid, memorable, or stupid and memorable to do. And Donatello would show them a very memorable time. His incubus blood hooked humans immediately, and his preference was male. So versatile, they. So many new and interesting things to be revealed about them. He was always delightfully surprised, like each rendezvous was a special and rare package to be unwrapped with a renewed sense of shock.

Buzzing with the energy the hot water gave, Donatello went back to his room to collect the day's work clothes. A white and pale gray pinstriped buttondown shirt and light red tie, black slacks and shoes, and his silver wristwatch. Using his hands, he brushed back his hair and contorted it into a loose braid he tied with a red string, and stuffed his thin black tail into his left pant leg. Like all succubi and incubi his tail was exceptionally sensitive, and while therefore an important part of his being, he would rather it not be accidentally caught in a door or stood on. With a light sigh, he blew out the candles in the corner of the room and looked outside again. He would have plenty of time to walk to work, more than an hour. It would clear his head... let him see the... views.

Sergio was awakened by his alarm clock, set to the local radio station, and he sat up without a second thought. Sergio was the type to get up at the crack of dawn and try to enjoy his day at its fullest, and although his job kept him up until around 2 or so in the morning, he still enjoyed being able to hear the sounds of the morning birds. Sergio pulled the curtains back into the elegant little hooks that were screwed into the wall at each side of the window to see the sun beginning to peek out from the side of the world, slowly spreading colors across the sky. It was a beautiful sight, really, and Sergio thought how most people just live their lives without even taking a moment to look at the beauty in nature. He shook his head and sighed as he stretched and let out a long, continuous yawn. He decided that if he had no plans later that weekend that he would try to sleep in for once.

Sergio walked into his kitchen with some sort of pep in his step, happy to be awake so early, and made himself a cup of coffee. He tried not to show it too much, except to his few close usuals at the club, but Sergio had quite a sweet tooth. He loved anything from chocolates to cakes, as long as it didn't have pecans in or on it. Without hesitating, Sergio stirred in a 7th spoonful of sugar and closed the sugar jar that sat close to the coffee maker, and after adding a splash of half and half to the bold mixture, took a sip of the overly sweetened beverage and grinned with pleasure. He didn't bother making breakfast, for he knew that one of his customers would ask to eat with him as usual.

After finishing his morning coffee, Sergio washed the cup and made his way back into his room, where he decided from his collection of clothing what to wear that day. The club always seemed to get a lot more "outgoing" guests on Fridays, so he eventually decided on a charcoal, sleeveless pin striped vest with a matching white dress shirt, also sleeveless, with a pair matching dress pants to match the vest and his favorite pair of black and white oxfords. To finish off his outfit, he wore a pair of white dress gloves and a golden pocket watch, which he attached to one of the buttons on his vest and let the chain loop down and slither back up into his pocket, where the watch sat ticking. He could still hear it as he walked out the door and hopped into his car, turning the key in the ignition. He could already tell that it was going to be a wonderful day.

Donatello smelled of vanilla and rose, a scent that seemed to slide off his being as he walked. The warm breeze shuffled the heavy oaks that artfully dotted the sidewalks in their wrought iron fences that protected their lovely, twisted trunks from damage. Their thick branches were left unmolested as the energy lines ran underground, deep below the streets and far underneath the roots of the old trees. He loved the way the trees mingled their earthy scents with his own, the way their lowest, thinnest branches would sometimes catch at his hair and pull a little, but always let go. On the street to his left cars floated past, and he'd peer into the passenger side window if he had a chance. Sometimes he would see a very handsome young man, or even older man. Really, Donatello wasn't picky regarding age, and enjoyed the varying levels of experience a human would have depending on their age.

His feet were soft on the pavement, hardly making a sound as he patted to work. The incubus didn't move quickly, he wasn't far from the office and he did dread being stuck up in an office that was often overly air-conditioned and stuffy, uncomfortable to sit for hours on end typing or nodding or talking about a certain design templates. The only view of that magnificent park was from behind glass, and he couldn't smell the trees and flowers. He did love nature, it could be changed to one's own desires if they had the talent to catch it on paper or canvas. Perhaps it was why so many high-profile clients wanted some type of nature element in their ad designs, and why so many politicians wanted to let it be known that they'd do everything in their power to save nature.

He passed a small cafe, and slipped inside, smiling brightly at the probably-nineteen-year-old college man behind the counter. A soft-faced young man, with large eyes like sapphire gems and wild hair of black, blue, and red, and a few silver studs through his ears and one through his tongue, which Donatello could see when the young man spoke to him. He leaned on the counter with an ease that seemed less practiced and more natural, placing his order for a small cinnamon roll. It took a moment for the young man to register, and nodded quickly, sidling off to fulfill the order while Donatello watched. He looked like a runner, with strong legs and a powerful chest. It was so unfortunate, Donatello thought, that he had to work now. Both of them, even! Still, he resigned himself to the reality as he handed over his money---and a considerable tip---and accepted the small paper wrap, breathing a light goodbye and thanks, and leaving the cool air of the little cafe and its calming music.

He turned a corner, onto a more busy street. Just a couple more blocks and he would be at work, bottling up his nature until he was let out for the evening, and finally, weekend. Donatello smiled a bit at the thought, pulling the cinnamon roll apart and nibbling it lightly. Today would be a good day, yes, but it would drag on forever, he was sure.

Sergio pulled up to his place of business, a popular club known as The Sugared Pear. He worked as a host, conversing and partaking in mixed beverages and the clubs famous desserts with other men and women who requested to spend time with him. He honestly had no idea why people enjoyed their time with him, but he disregarded it and took it as a complement. He made his way into the club's doors and checked in, taking his usual spot in the right farthest corner of the club. It was the closest to where the desserts and such were made, and the aroma was bliss-- a mix between chocolate and the alcohol at the bar.

After waiting a mere ten minutes, one of his usuals requested him. Her name was Kelsie, and she came very often in the mornings to share a breakfast with Sergio. He enjoyed his time with her, though he wasn't as much interested in women as he was men. Thankfully, though, she viewed him as more of a close friend/brother than anything else. Kelsie walked up to the corner booth and took a seat beside him.

"Good morning Serg!" She looked around curiously, a somewhat confused expression upon her face. "You guys don't seem to be very busy this morning. That's strange, it is Friday you know."

Sergio chuckled slightly. "Yes, it is Friday. I guess everyone is sleeping in for tonight."

Kelsie returned with a giggle. "True, true. That's probably it." She called one of the waitresses of the club over to order a breakfast pastry, and knowing what Sergio liked, ordered the same as him. "So, have you done it yet?"

Sergio looked at her, confused. "What in good name are you talking about?"

Kelsie smiled. "You know what I mean Sergie, you've only been requested to do so maybe a thousand times!"

Sergio blushed, looking away from her to the black leather cushion he sat on. "Kelsie, you know how I feel of the matter. I plan to stay that way until I find someone I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Kelsie sighed. "Whatever. I just think you're wasting your life trying to find someone and not actually living in the moment." Soon, the waitress arrived with their pastries, and after eating hers, Kelsie checked the time. "I'm sorry I have to go so early love, but I have an early shift today, and if I'm late I'm sure to be fired. I'll see you tomorrow!" Kelsie rushed out the door, throwing away her trash as she left, leaving Sergio to himself again.

He sighed in a rather distant manner, feeling the air-conditioned interior of the company rush over him and a breath of warm air shift inside, quickly dissipating in the lobby. People were wandering about, going to and from offices, workspaces, meetings. For a design company, the lobby was so very bare, marble floors and plain beige walls, hanging lights. A information desk sat to the right and a small waiting areas for lower-profile clients, entrepreneurs just starting out and small-time businesses that could wait a little while longer than the high-profile individuals. The ones that were seen countrywide, companies that dealt in cars, homes, land sales, human interest in general.

Donatello stepped out of the way of the door, staring around the lobby that hadn’t changed for the past eight years. It was just so bland! So bland to an artist. Really, an advertising company should have color, and body, and something to draw the eye! Donatello sighed, then felt a hand on his shoulder. He automatically bit down, feeling an internal struggle begin between his incubus nature and common law of the land, and shuddered as Kevin Todd, his boss, made a turn. “Don, you’re not supposed to work today!” The man tilted his head, sending his combed back hair moving a little with gravity.

Donatello raised a brow. “Of course I am, Kevin. I have a meeting today, at the very least, and several reports to finish.”

Kevin looked a little incredulous, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his phone, scrolling for a moment. “Huh... I guess you do. Well, here’s what I think: Go to the meeting, then get out. It’s Friday, and you’re overdue for a vacation anyway.”

Donatello was quiet. True, he hadn’t had a vacation in a while. “How long has it been, Kevin? Since my last vacation, anyway.”

The human thought for a moment. “I’d say well over a year. If I were you---”

“---I’d schedule a vacation week soon.” The incubus nodded, rolling his eyes a little. “I’ve heard it before, love.”

Kevin scoffed. “Well, law says you ha---”

“---Have to take at least seven consecutive vacation days or you’ll force me to.”

His boss rolled his eyes. He’d heard all this before, and didn’t get annoyed with Donatello. He’d actually spent more than a few nights with the incubus, and it was a bit of a regular thing now. They did retain a strict employee-employer code of conduct and Donatello received no overly special treatment, but anyone could tell they were on at least overly friendly terms. Donatello stepped around the man, going to an elevator. Meetings regarding current stocks and design portfolios that were especially high-profile could be so very boring... But he could easily lock eyes with someone across the table and fiddle with them without even making physical contact, and that was quite a good amount of fun.

Business was fairly normal at The Sugared Pear that Friday. Sergio got quite a few requests, but none were new to the club itself, and they talked and partook in several drinks and edibles. None were alcoholic for Sergio, though his guests were very light on the subject, and a few drank themselves numb. Sergio wasn't much of an alcoholic himself, mostly because he was allergic to aspirin and didn't like to have to deal with hangovers without some kind of deadening.

After a long day of chatting, it soon started to creep into the darker hours of the day, and the more aggressive crowd began showing up at the club. Several men and women, obviously a bit too drunk and in the moment, tried to persuade Sergio into taking them on a bit of a naughty date, which he easily declined. Dates for hosts weren't unusual. Actually, if you didn't go on so many dates a week, you were fired. The minimum of dates for Sergio a week was 2, thankfully, though most had to go on at least 5. His boss knew of his strict views on what some people may call abstinence and tried to make it a bit less of a problem for him.

The meeting went as expected for Donatello: Desperately and unapologetically boring. But Donatello kept himself entertained with a pencil and the undivided attention of a scruffy young man sitting across from him. The droning of the template's background color shading faded out as he pointedly locked eyes with the younger man, who hadn't been watching the presentation for a while now. It was all on a projector, and the room was dark, leaving Donatello able to manipulate the pencil as he liked, rolling its eraser on his tongue and biting it lightly. He smiled a little more each time the man fidgeted across the table, tapping his fingers on the wooden top to keep them from wandering dangerously. When the light came on and the meeting was dismissed curtly, Donatello saw the younger man hurry off with his binder held quite low.

Finally able to leave, Donatello stopped first by Kevin's office and let him know of his departure, promising to schedule next week as his vacation so the man wouldn't badger him anymore. Finally stepping out of the building, Donatello gratefully took his hair out of its braid and let it swim in the breeze. The rather flamboyant movement caught the eye of many, but he only returned the glances of the men, smiling lightly at them but doing little more. Some were... well, cute. Others were ridiculously handsome, but had a hardened face he didn't particularly find that nice. Though last night he was alone, so he would have to find someone tonight or risk feeling desperately hungry. A type of hungry that couldn't be sated with simple human food.

Soon enough he was passing a new series of clubs and bars, those he'd not really been to. One stuck out well, perhaps for its fascinating name: The Sugared Pear. He smiled, studying the well-rounded pear lying atop a pile of sheer white sugar cubes, and approached it. It sounded like a place that would specialize in sweet things, and Donatello's most notable weakness was for sweet things. He pushed the door open, reflexively sniffing the air. It smelled wonderful, like... humans, and energy, and many sweets.

Sergio looked up at the door as it moved open, waiting to see a usual customer, but as the man stepped in he realized it was someone completely new to the club, and he grew slightly excited. He was quite tall, taller than most of the people in the club in fact, and had a gorgeous head of hair. Those were two things he likes the most, also considering the fact that he was only 5'6". He took a sip of his drink, watching the man closely, secretly hoping he had seen him in one of the clubs ads as a host and had come to see him personally. Sergio chuckled to himself. There was no way that someone so gifted would be interested in him.

His observations and the instances he overheard conversation told Donatello as much as he needed to know---so this was one of those 'host clubs', was it? He'd never really found necessity in visiting a place that paid people to spend a little time with someone---the incubus had no issues with finding someone to waste away a day, and usually, a night, with him, but he was always looking for a new little adventure. He slid through the people gathering about easily, and would have worried about the state of his tail had he not had the foresight to conceal it. Passing a table or two, he flashed a toothy grin at someone that caught his eye, and another here and there. If they decided to follow him he would usually duck away, and came out of the relatively large throng at a more quiet corner. Breathing in quickly, he sighed and looked around, loosening his tie since he was away from work.

There was someone new. He looked like one of the hosts, but was alone. Dark hair and emerald eyes. A delightful mystery, this one had to be. Perhaps lots of secrecy under that dark, ebony-toned head of hair. Donatello leaned easily on the edge of the table and smiled a little lighter than he had before. "Hello. I take it you work here?" He looked around the area, waving his hair back as it fell around his face. "My name is Donatello Compagno, a pleasure to meet you." He offered a hand, a sign of respect. Just how often was respect placed upon the table nowadays? Not as often as Donatello liked.

Sergio watched the man weave in and out of the crowd of people, and after a while he made his way to the corner Sergio sat in. He gulped as the man looked at him, and even though he was used to talking to people, he was already a bit nervous. There was just something so special about this man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it...

The man spoke, and it somehow surprised him, and it made Sergio's spine shiver. His voice was beyond luxurious. He took his hand, trying not to seem too nervous. After all, this was just another customer. Sergio thought for a second, trying to get back into his usual state of mind. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, now confident in hismself.

"Yes, I do work here." Sergio smiled sweetly as he offered a spot next to him to his new customer. "I'm Sergio Markutske, but feel free to call me by whatever you like." He crossed his leg towards him and sat his gloved hands in an almost elegant fashion onto his knee. "What brings you to Sugared Pear this lovely Friday evening?"

He saw that. Saw the minute change, the surprise that clouded his expression for only a moment then faded away. This young man had to be more than accustomed to talking to people and dealing with their antics, which somehow delighted Donatello. He didn't know why, specifically---was it the very slight extra challenge of getting very close to them? Getting them to open up more to him than they were used to? Perhaps, perhaps. Still, his smiled widened a little when his offered hand was accepted, and gladly took the offered seat.

Sergio... Such an exotic type of name, one didn't come across too many men named Sergio. Oh, there was such an overabundance of Charlie, Mark, Andrew, John... So terribly plain, and Donatello always hoped they could show their differences in other ways. He shifted his hand a little, running it absently through his hair. Since it always seemed to get in his eyes, Donatello had contracted a habit of playing with his hair more than he might have if he were aware of it. "Oh, I was allowed out of my prison of an office job a little early today." Donatello said after a moment, sighing a little. "I found myself on the road just across from this strange new place, and had to take a closer look." He smiled a little wider, showing his rather sharp teeth. "I can tell you now that I'm very glad I followed my curiosity."

Oh, to touch his hair, his midnight-sky hair, shining so palely in the dimmer area lighting of the corner, so soft and deliciously thick. To feel his skin, just a little, to run his hand down Sergio's arm... But Donatello had a little more self control than that. He easily swallowed those urges, though they still clawed at him.

Sergio fought a blush resulting from Donatello's obvious flirt, and he lost. His face turned red, but he soon shook it off and looked back at him, smiling. "Oh, well, I'm very glad you came!" By now, after seeing that the customer had an interest in him, Sergio usually would have his arm around them, showering them with complements and offering them his favorite desserts, but... he just couldn't seem to even make solid contact with the man's hypnotizing eyes.

He looked as Donatello played with his mane here and there, wishing he could bury his face in what looked like golden silk. That's something he loved about men with long hair, how it covered him like a blanket and always had a smell to it that almost seemed to put him in a trace. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. Sergio came back to reality, looking back up to his handsome customer's gaze. "Would you like anything to drink or eat, perhaps?"

Sergio seemed to be rather quiet from one time to another, but Donatello was used to it, the way someone would either stare at him or stumble over words when they spoke to him. Especially if he was interested in them. He was, after all, the essence of human sexuality, the embodiment of desire, like the rest of his kind. Very few succubi and incubi lived around him, though, and the last one living nearby had just left the city of he recalled that sleepy conversation correctly. He wasn't entirely territorial, though, not like some wild animal---he respected his kind, as they respected him, and really, there was no shortage of humans in such a large city. Especially since Donatello had such a specific preference.

Sergio's offer did have Donatello thinking. He didn't have to eat as much as a human, since his energy and health came from humans. But he did love certain human foods, and sweet things were among them. Perhaps it was why the name of the club really stuck out for Donatello. A sugared pear was delicious, like candy. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know... these places are just full of choices. I would be hard-pressed not to try whatever's your first choice." The young man did look like he knew his way around the menu presented at the club, and would have his favorites. And Donatello wouldn't be able to decide, really.

Sergio thought for a moment. He loved nearly everything on the menu, except the pecan pie and the strawberry shortcake. He didn't much like nuts, other than peanuts and almonds, and he was very much allergic to strawberries. Out of all the things on the menu, one was unbeatable among the rest. The triple chocolate mousse latte cake. It was beyond heavenly, and with that in mind he called a waitress over to not only order Donatello one, but himself-- with extra whipped cream.

After ordering, Sergio looked down, and after sighing quietly to try to relieve his slight nervousness, opened his mouth to finally speak to the man again. Before he even spoke, his face turned a bright shade cherry red, and he kept his head down slightly, hoping his medium length hair hid it from his customer. "So, uhm, Donatello... why do you keep teasing me?" He was referring to the man's constant flirtatious actions. The way he spoke, and how he twisted his hair and held himself in general... it confused Sergio. Why would this man truly like him? There was no way. He probably was just leading him on, trying to get him to do what he was so against.

Donatello lifted his brow. "Teasing?" He repeated. 'I never. I hate to come across as teasing, but... Well, I really can't help it." He leaned on the table lightly, his elbow on the surface and his hand sliding through his hair, a little less obviously this time. "I'm so curious as to why others aren't just flocking to you from one time to another, or just crowding about you. You just seem to be so... so fascinating. You stick out so well among a crowd." Why was that? He didn't really know. Sergio... What an especial name. What a unique name... But that smell... It was sweet, in a very different way. A type of sweetness only certain humans gave off.

Virgin humans.

Was Sergio...? That was rare to find, like a ruby in a pile of ugly stones. Donatello wouldn't dare touch this pristine creature, no, not now, and not under any form of incubi hypnosis. Donatello closed his eyes, turning his face away from Sergio and staring at the art on the walls. "Beautiful." He complimented in a purr, and was only half-talking about the paintings.

Sergio listened as his customer spoke. "Well, it's okay. I guess I'm a bit used to it." He was used to it-- he was a host after all, and most showered him with complements, but it usually meant that they wanted something out of him that was not going to give. He noted that, remembering that this man could easily try to con him into that gimmick, and trying to set it in his mind that that was obviously this man's purpose-- and not to fall in love with Donatello as quickly as he was.

Segio blushed at the man's next comment. "Well, uhm, thank you, but-- I truly don't see why you would say something like that." He hated to sound like a desperate teenage girl, but he honestly didn't understand why someone would say such things. He didn't really see himself as even alluring-- more of someone painful to look upon. He sighed and perked up slightly. The waitress finally arrived back with the bliss of chocolate cake sitting delightfully on a silver platter, and Sergio could smell it coming even before it even left the kitchen doors. She sat the platter in front of the two, and as soon as she took her first step away from the table, Sergio lifted the delicacy up in excitement. He cut the tip off from the rest of the cake and brought it to his mouth, eating it with pleasure. Due to his order of extra whipped cream, there was a bit of a mess around Sergio's mouth, but he was too caught up in the flavor of the cake to notice and continued to eat.

Donatello tilted his head, and the natural crease to his hair had half of it over one eye. The poor thing---was he so uncertain about himself? Couldn't he see at least a little of the absolute beauty he held? And not just in body, no---there was something in his personality, though Donatello knew little of it yet, that made his ridiculously green eyes just shine. Some kind of inner light that was oh-so rare to see. But he didn't say anything about it---perhaps Sergio was quiet about it because he felt he was a bother to others. If Donatello could just show him it was otherwise... at least to him. He always took everything so personal, Donatello did. Every human was a serious experience, but it never did last long. After that one day---or night---Donatello let the person decide what they wanted to do. With the exception of Kevin, his boss, they always parted ways for good. Unless the person was a coworker.

He glanced around when the sweet smell of chocolate approached, and accepted the second plate with a word of thanks. Aside from the clover honey-sweetness of a human like Sergio, chocolate had to be his favorite. Chocolate cake, though, could be so plain and predictable, though he had high hopes for a place named the Sugared Pear. It had to specialize in unique sweetness, and Donatello was hardly disappointed. "I can tell why it's your favorite." He said to Sergio, laughing a bit at the almost kiddish mess he'd made himself.

Sergio didn't catch the humor in his tone, and certainly didn't realize the whipped mess on his face. He continued eating happily, until he was done. Setting the porcelain plate back onto the platter, he looked up to Donatello. "Yeah, it's quite good. I'm not much for cakes, unless they're moist or moussed, like this one." He sat there, watching his customer eat, until he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was unusual for his phone to ever go off, so he pulled it out and checked the caller I.D.-- it was his apartment's landlord.

"Uhm, please excuse me, this looks really important." Sergio stood and and quickly made his way out of the club. Why was Jake calling him, especially at work? Then he though for a moment... his bills. Sergio accepted the call and put the phone to his face. "Hello?"

"Sergio! God dammit, I've been banging on your door all day! Where are you?!"

"Jake, you should know that I'm at work." Sergio sighed. "I gave you my work schedule when I moved in, and you know I call you when changes are ma-"

"I don't care if you're at work or not! You've been late on your bills for three weeks... three! I'm not playing this stupid game anymore. Serg, your stuff is on the porch. I want you gone by midnight."

Sergio blanked out, staring at the concrete below him. He was being kicked out of his home, one of his worst nightmares. It was his own fault for never being able to pay the bills. It wasn't that he didn't make enough money-- it was that he spent it all on dessert at the club. He was an idiot, a failure, and a prisoner of his own addiction. Sergio wasn't one to cry, but as he said his goodbyes and hung up the phone, he could feel the tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

Sergio made his way back into the club, rubbing his eyes before uniting with his customer again and sitting down without a word.

Donatello watched the young man go, twisting his hair again. The way the young man had changed so immediately had various negative things playing out in the incubus' mind. What could have happened? No one deserved to have their current happiness stripped so suddenly and harshly away by the ringing of a phone---it was just wrong, for anyone to have to go through. He avoided eye-contact with others, looking down so they wouldn't become intrigued and try to approach. It worked well enough, though he only realized Sergio's return when a human presence was suddenly very close to him. Across from him. Looking up, Donatello knitted his brow. He looked so... broken.

"Sergio, what's happened?" Donatello asked slowly. "You... look so sad." It would have been odd to say he smelled sad. But it was true. His scent had changed drastically. Donatello reached across the table, grasping Sergio's hand in his.

Sergio was shocked by Donatello's action, but he didn't pull away. It helped comfort him, and actually made him a bit happier to finally feel his touch. He kept looking to his lap though, peeking out at his customer from behind his hair. "I... I got kicked out of my apartment." Saying it aloud brought more realization than he thought it would, and as much as he tried to hold it back, he began to sob. "I have no place to go, no family to run to-- and I have to get my stuff by midnight." Sergio looked up at Donatello, tears streaming down his red face. "I don't even get off work until two! Jake will probably throw away all of my belongings... and then I'll have nothing!" He continued to sob. Embarrassed of his appearance, he took his hand from the stranger and buried his face in his gloves, not caring if they somehow got ruined by his tears.

Kicked out? Donatello shook his head. Landlords could be true devils. He'd been so glad when he was able to stop barely scraping by and actually buy a townhouse like the one he had. A beautiful thing, and the main trophy of his status in life as it was now. "That sounds terrible." He muttered, stepping around the booth's table and crouching beside Sergio. "It doesn't sound fair." He put a reassuring hand on the young man's knee. "Sergio... Perhaps this will sound... well, ridiculous, but would you like to stay with me?"

They had only just met, of course, but surely Donatello was trustworthy? Surely he didn't have a serial killer look about him, or a rapist's eyes, or a thief's hands? Even so, Sergio had every right to decline him even if he'd be left with nowhere else. "I promise I'll not take offense to your declining, of course. But if you do need help, I'd be glad to be there for you. Everyone should have someone to rely on, right?" He smiled lightly, reassuringly, in a way he hoped could somehow put Sergio on more solid ground.

Sergio sat there, for a moment, still sobbing and trying to process what Donatello had just said-- was a complete stranger, someone he had just met, really just offered him a place to stay. That was beyond generous. To leap at something like that and sacrifice your own privacy and home to someone who needed it most was almost godly. Sergio wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at his customer... and new landlord.

"I... I guess that would be alright, if you really don't mind." Sergio smiled slightly. "That is really nice of you. I don't know if I could let a total stranger into my own house to live there." He thought to himself for a moment how bizarre it all was-- and how now, there really was a chance of him getting close to Donatello, and hopefully someday become more than friends...

Donatello chuckled lightly. "Of course I don't mind! I'm sure I could take care of myself if you're hiding some dangerous secret, anyway." He made it a joke, really---he couldn't even see a hint of natural evil in Sergio's eyes. "And to be honest, I live in such a large place... It's a bit... lonely when I wake up to no one there..." He paused. Some mornings he awoke cold, a bit sluggish. these were the mornings he'd not had the ability to quickly find someone. But if he did let Sergio stay with him, he'd have to be especially discreet about his night life. Perhaps his true bloodline, too.

Still, Donatello stood and shook away the forlorn sound in his voice. "If you want some of your things, I'm sure I could go get it. Just tell me where you, er, used to live and let me know your favored things. I'm sure I could get a friend to help me if need be, while you finish up here." Sergio had probably spent enough time with Donatello anyway---he was a host here, after all, and no doubt had some kind of quota to meet. Donatello's being there was just interfering with that.

Sergio was now smiling, thinking about how fun it will be to experience new things. Sure, he didn't really know Donatello, but it would be an opportunity to learn more about him, for he was very curious. He thought about Donatello's offer for a moment. "Well, the apartment I lived in was furnished by Jake, my landlord, and he said he had put my belongings on the porch in trash bags." He sighed. "It should only be one or two. I didn't have much, just some clothes and such, some cookbooks, etc." He smiled. "You don't have to do that, but if you really want to, you're welcome to take my car. It's the least I can do, and I'd hate for you to walk or have to take a bus." Sergio held his keys out to Donatello. "I mean, if we're going to be living together, we might as well start building out trust somewhere, right?"

He knew of a Jake. Yes, he knew a Jake quite well. A landlord Jake, not at all very friendly to any tenants. Well, he knew the man on more personal terms, at least, a bit of a mistake Donatello had made one day. His nature had gotten the better of him that day and had pushed him to act. Still, he ignored that rather... disturbing thought and took the keys. "I suppose so." He agreed, smiling in assurance. "I'll get your things and take them to my home. Perhaps I'll stick around here until you're off." It might be a few extra hours, but Donatello could handle it. He'd make entertaining conversation with anyone that happened by, allow his incubi charms to create a temporary obsession with him, and time would fly by.

He exited the club, finding the sky rather darkened with evening, and stepped toward Sergio's vehicle. Inside it smelled so much like the human, of a variety of lingering emotions from different times. He breathed in deeply, starting the car and pulling away from the curb, into the road. He had a car of his own, but did love to walk if he could.

Finally arriving at the small complex, Donatello spied a few small black bags on the porch outside one of the doors. No one else was in sight as he pulled up and parked, taking the keys with him out of habit while he collected the bags. They were light, and felt like they were filled mostly with clothes. He set these in the back seat and looked around. No Jake in sight, thank God. Donatello didn't want to bother seeing that huge mistake. More of a mistake of a human than anything, an intolerable creature he simply hated, and hated his nature for pushing him onto Jake. Still, Donatello shook his head, pulling away from the complex with a feeling of relief washing over him. Home, to get out of his work clothes and feel a bit more free, and then back to the club to wait for Sergio.