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Ratio doesn’t know how he finds himself in this situation with a certain Stoneheart over and over again. He is certain that if he were to sit down and pore over the hundreds of texts, meetings, emails, and dinners, he could find a suitable narrative that details the whys, the hows, and all the small intricacies of their relationship.
But that is the fortune of hindsight.
He didn’t see the cracks forming in the walls he put up, nor did he notice the acceleration of his heart at the sight of blond hair, or realize the calm quiet of his mind while listening to the smaller voice next to him.
He can at least admit that juggling various planet-altering projects, teaching classes, and drafting papers can distract someone from noticing an interpersonal change. Besides, Ratio has never been one to deeply contemplate his relationships with other people. He has one mission in life and will do everything in his power to achieve it; everything outside of that has been secondary—until recently.
“How about a bet, Doctor? ”
It’s always been about a bet. Their relationship started with a gamble when the newly appointed Stoneheart pointed a gun at his own chest and forced Ratio’s finger to push the trigger three times. Ratio remembers the trembling in his hand as he was forced to shoot the gun, the relief each empty click brought to his hammering heart.
"Life is a grand gamble, and I'll always be the final victor." His cold, lifeless smile never wavered, and Ratio couldn't comprehend how someone could view their own life with such insignificance.
And it was also a gamble that brought them to this point: Ratio staring at the back of Aventurine’s blond hair, caught in the sweat clinging to his neck and shoulders. The scent of sweet honey and petrichor dances in his nose, and delight courses through him.
Aventurine’s hands struggle to find purchase on the planks of wood, his forehead leaning on the wall of the shower room. He’s long stopped trying to be quiet, yet his moans and whimpers are drowned out by the live band close by. It’s unbecoming of both Ratio and Aventurine, a renowned scholar and a Stoneheart, to be participating in such debauchery in public. If someone were to peek over the top of the wooden wall, they would see the Stoneheart bent over, palms on the wooden wall in front of him as Veritas Ratio takes him from behind.
Just minutes earlier, the two were standing by one of the bars, each trying in their own way to make this retreat on an island far from Pier Point more bearable.
“I bet…” A wager was spoken in hushed tones to an attentive ear. The die was cast.
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Once a year, the IPC likes to put on the facade that they care about their employees beyond their utility in generating profit. The annual employee ‘retreat,’ as they call it, takes various extravagant forms—grand balls, galas, and opulent dinners. No matter the type of retreat, the IPC spares no expense; no venue is too exclusive, no entertainment is too unattainable.
This year’s retreat was advertised as a pool party, yet Ratio couldn’t help but gawk at the sheer audacity of calling it that. Pool parties are for families, with parents grilling meat and children running around. The IPC ‘pool party’ was closer to a festival, hosted on a small, private island in Thalassa that the corporation had rented for the day. The mansion in the middle of the island took up most of the area, boasting an Olympic-sized swimming pool behind it, a live band playing energetic tunes, and two open bars where people were already getting drunk.
It’s ostentatious and Ratio dislikes every part of it, from the heat of the Sun bearing down on him to the loud music and the chatter of the sweaty crowd that surrounded him. It was suffocating, and he itched to have his alabaster bust with him to drown out the noise.
He wouldn’t have come at all, but the IPC graciously invited select members of the Intelligentsia Guild with the promise of sponsoring their proposed projects with a few hundred million credits. Yabuli had sent the invitation to Ratio’s inbox without even bothering to ask if he wanted to or was able to attend, just the invitation attachment along with the funding details.
The heat was stifling enough that even the cooling mint of his mojito provided no relief to him.
The mingling scents of the surrounding crowd were becoming oppressive.
People who previously would never dare speak to him out of fear or admiration now approached him openly, offering drinks, and touching his shoulders or brushing their hands against his.
His skin was becoming too hot and tight, his senses getting overwhelmed by the second.
Something was wrong.
The cacophony of sensations became too much, and he excused himself from the small group that had formed around him. He sat down on a chair under an umbrella, hoping to clear his mind in the shade.
As he sat there, the world around him seemed to blur and distort. The sounds of laughter and conversation faded into a dull roar, and the vibrant colors of the party dulled to muted shades. He rubbed his temples, trying to ward off the growing sense of unease.
Someone greeted him and handed Ratio a glass of water—a secretary from the IPC he had seen around before. Their fingertips grazed one another while taking the cup, and the secretary let out an undignified squeak at the contact, apologizing immediately. He thanked them before taking a sip, the cold water quenching his thirst. The secretary watched him for a moment, their face bright with a blush, before quickly leaving. Perhaps the heat was getting to them too?
He remembers the gambler approaching him then, clad in a breezy button-up shirt and shorts, with his signature pink sunglasses perched on his face. He had a conniving smile, looking down at Ratio curiously. Although he was smiling, Ratio couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Aventurine. His smile was too tight, his hands too tense. It was apparent that he was upset about something.
Ratio recalled the gambler complaining of boredom and asking if he wanted to place a wager, though the exact words uttered then were hazy.
"You look bored too," Aventurine mused as he looked at him.
Ratio was absolutely not bored. Boredom is a result of under stimulation, and at that time, Ratio’s mind was on fire from all the lingering touches of strangers and the loud music. However, even if he could not vouch for the safety of Aventurine’s wagers, they were always interesting and required his full attention. Perhaps a distraction was exactly what he needed right now, to shut his mind from the rest of the world and focus on Aventurine. Normally, they would banter until Ratio eventually gave in (he always did), but he decided to indulge his dear gambler from the beginning just this once.
At Ratio’s agreement, Aventurine beamed and leaned down to Ratio's ear to ensure he could hear him over the noise of the crowd and the band.
“Wanna bet if I can drink a shot without using my hands?”
Huh. Ratio found the sudden bet strange; Aventurine's gambles usually involved one or more parties, and it was extremely rare for the other man to showcase a skill of sorts. He had worked with Aventurine long enough to recognize his quirks, and a strange feeling in his gut told him that there was more to this wager than what was immediately apparent. Before he could even respond, Aventurine walked back to the bar without waiting to hear his answer. Ratio felt a sense of anticipation, as he watched Aventurine's figure weave through the crowd.
Aventurine eventually returned with a shot glass filled with brown liquid and fluffy whipped cream on top.
“I’ll need your help for this next part, Doc,” Aventurine said as he placed the shot glass between Ratio’s spread thighs and then brusquely brought them together to cradle the glass.
The cold glass was a shock against the heated skin of his thighs. “What are you doing.”
“Doing my part of our wager! Just watch me,” Aventurine replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Aventurine stood with his hands clasped behind his back and knelt towards the top of the shot glass, maintaining eye contact with Ratio all the while. The intensity of his gaze made Ratio’s heart race. Aventurine’s breath was warm against his skin as his tongue darted out to lick some of the whipped cream.
Even this close, Ratio couldn’t smell him. Aventurine’s scent was always faint, borderline undetectable. Only in moments of heightened states did Aventurine’s scent come out.
Aventurine's tongue continued to dance around the shot glass, circling the rim and teasing the edge of the whipped cream. Ratio’s heart raced as he watched, his attention captured by Aventurine's every movement. Ratio's breathing hitched in anticipation as Aventurine's tongue navigated the glass, the sight sending a wave of heat rushing through his veins. Magenta-cyan eyes locked with his one more time before Aventurine dove down to take the shot glass in his mouth. In one smooth motion, Aventurine expertly tipped his head back, downing the liquid without spilling a drop.
Aventurine stood up and licked a trace of whipped cream from his lips with a triumphant grin. Ratio’s breath was stuck in his throat, and he found himself fully aware of his arousal.
Ratio then realized why he had been experiencing all these symptoms lately– increased sensitivity to scents, an inability to cool off, and all the undue attention from strangers and coworkers alike. He stiffened as the realization dawned on him: his rut was approaching early, and he was stranded on a company-sponsored trip with no suppressants.
Ratio stood up quickly, his face flushed with embarrassment, as he tried to make a discreet exit to a private place. However, Aventurine, ever observant, quickly caught on and grabbed Ratio's wrist.
"I bet you're heading into a rut, dear doctor," Aventurine's voice was filled with mischief as his hand held Ratio firmly in place.
He froze at the words that had reached his ears. Of course, this was the real wager. He should have seen this coming; he’s been on enough missions with the gambler to know his strategy. Aventurine loved to rile up his targets, and then pounce once they were cornered and he was their only way out.
Ratio clenched his teeth, his wrist firmly held in Aventurine's grasp. The warmth of the gambler's touch sent a shiver down Ratio's spine, making him acutely aware of their close proximity. He inwardly cursed himself for underestimating Aventurine's cunning mind; he had unknowingly walked right into the other man's trap. His voice was tight as he finally spoke.
"I need somewhere to wait it out. Alone," he managed to say, knowing that spending his pre-rut secluded in a corner of the large mansion would be miserable. He had only gone through his rut once before, but it was an unbelievably grueling experience, and ever since then, he has routinely taken suppressants for more than a decade. Though it was the only thing he could do at that moment. He would leave first thing in the morning and take his suppressants as soon as he can.
Aventurine's smirk widened as he heard Ratio's words, knowing he had him right where he wanted. "And why would you want to spend your pre-rut alone, dear doctor?" he asked, his voice dripping with false innocence.
Aventurine closed the gap between them even further to the point he could feel Aventurine's breath fanning over his skin when he spoke."Why spend your pre-rut alone when you have a willing Omega right here?" he repeated, now teasing. "One that's not only familiar with you but has shared your bed before."
When Aventurine spoke, a light, sweet scent began to emanate from him, the notes of honey subtly mixing with the air. Ratio unwittingly breathed in the scent, and it immediately triggered memories of their past intimate moments together. He could feel himself becoming more and more aroused as the sweet fragrance lingered in the air.
“Let me take care of you Ratio,” Aventurine whispered in his ear and Ratio came undone with those sickly sweet words.
He would think about the details later, about how he could have come up with hundreds of reasons to refuse Aventurine—reputation, dignity, societal expectations. And yet, he let the gambler tug him away and lead the charge through the crowd.
Incomprehensible. He would reason with himself later as to why he let Aventurine lead him to an outdoor shower room. Why he let Aventurine’s skillful, nimble hands undress him. Why he kissed Aventurine back instead of pushing him away.
Why he let Aventurine guide him like a dog on a leash and why, like a fool, he followed without resistance.
But those things weren’t important right now. Not when Aventurine is enveloping him so well at this moment. The slick makes the glide so easy, so exquisite. Ratio’s hands tighten on Aventurine’s waist and he pushes his hips harder, the sound of skin smacking harsher in the changing room. The live band just a couple of hundred feet away drowns out the sounds they’re making. The music pulses through the air along with the chatter of people, a constant backdrop to the sounds of skin on skin, and punctured moans and grunts.
Dawn-colored eyes become enamored by the sight of his cock pushing in and out of Aventurine. Entranced by the way the lithe body in front of him accepts all of him like it was made for him with how perfectly they connect. He pays rapt attention to the way Aventurine stretches around his cock, from the head all the way down to the base where his hips meet Aventurine’s skin. In watching himself, he inadvertently slows his hips down which Aventurine notices. In response, Aventurine clenches harder and pushes his hips back, making his displeasure known.
Aventurine turns his head back towards Ratio and teases, “Am I boring you, Doc?”
Ratio prides himself on his intelligence and rationality, keeping an objective lens through which he views the world. He should be embarrassed, mortified even, at the act of doing this outdoors where anyone could come upon them and ruin their reputations. The music he can hear so clearly, along with the Sun shining down on his bare back, serves as a constant reminder of the risk they are running—of how exposed they are. But by now, he’s become so undone by the desire he holds for the man in front of him.
In the presence of Aventurine, Ratio has become someone he hardly recognizes. He no longer cares if someone were to come upon them. Let them see how well they fit together. How well they complete each other.
His thoughts are full of Aventurine, of only diving deeper into the abyss that he is.
In a moment of need and pure desire, he rises to the gambler’s taunt and thrusts forward harshly, pushing Aventurine further toward the wall. A gasp rips from the gambler’s mouth as he tries to keep himself upright.
“Quite the opposite,” he murmurs against Aventurine’s ear. “You have my full attention.”
“Ah– haha I’m honored, truly, to have the – Hah!”, Aventurine's words are cut off by a moan as Ratio grabs his erection, giving it shallow pumps. Aventurine says nothing more, only whimpers and moans coming from his lips.
At the lack of words coming from his partner, he smugly spits Aventurine's words back at him, "Am I boring you, gambler?"
“Of course not, you’re doing amazing,” The honeyed words make his heart leap, and his cock twitches. He begins to move once more, this time with a more determined rhythm. He wraps his arms around Aventurine’s torso to keep him steady as he fucks into him faster, his chest pressed to Aventurine’s clothed back stained with sweat.
The closer proximity to Aventurine's scent glands elicits an immediate, intense reaction in him. The sweet, honey-like fragrance, tinged with the earthy petrichor, ignites a fierce craving within him and his mouth starts to water. His teeth clench tightly, the desire to bite down on the unclaimed Omega running rampant. He had felt this craving before during their previous intimate encounters, but never this strongly; it had always been more akin to a minor itch he could easily ignore.
With his few vestiges of clarity, he realizes that he and Aventurine hadn't adequately discussed the risks of the situation. They have never been intimate while Aventurine was in heat or while Ratio was either nearing or amid his rut. This oversight dawns on him now, as he grapples with the powerful primal instincts that threaten to overcome his rationality.
His body jerks, his instincts screaming at him to claim what's in front of him. Yet, his rational mind attempts to ground him, desperately trying to regain control and prevent a rash decision that would haunt him for eternity. Though the idea of being mated to Aventurine is strangely appealing to him for reasons unknown, they aren’t lovers. They shouldn’t be mated, not here, not like this.
With another rough thrust, Aventurine throws his head back and the movement causes Ratio to have a clear view of the brand on his neck. The sight of it jolts him, like being doused in freezing cold water, silencing the possessive instincts that had been growing within him.
Instead a different urge overtakes him and it's not one of possession or ownership. Before he can even register the change, Ratio's mouth instinctively latches onto Aventurine's neck. His tongue drags across the gland and he swears he can taste honey on his palate. Aventurine trembles at the action and for a moment, Ratio fears he has gone too far. But then Aventurine relaxes, tilting his head and allowing Ratio better access to the skin there.
Not for the first time and definitely not the last, he is astounded by how easily Aventurine seems to disregard his own well-being and safety. How readily he allows Ratio access to not only his schemes but also his body. Does he truly trust him that much, or is this just another one of his schemes? The belief Aventurine places in him is both humbling and terrifying, leaving Ratio questioning the motivation behind it.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, much too honestly for whatever their relationship is: more than colleagues, but less than lovers. Ratio does not specify in what regard he is questioning Aventurine.
Aventurine tenses up for a brief moment, before angling his head to look at Ratio head-on.
“That depends on you, Doctor.”
A foolish question answered vaguely, but he expected as such from Aventurine. They would not have gotten this far in their relationship without trust. Trust earned in the small snippets of information exchanged over dinners, in vulnerabilities shown in quiet rooms, and in emerging victorious in every mission despite the obstacles. Trust in each other that no matter what, they could rely on one another.
He huffs, amused, before going back to Aventurine’s neck. He kisses and bites along the sensitive area, never allowing his teeth to break the skin. The Alpha in him wants to so badly; his teeth downright ache with the need to bite. However, the brand on Aventurine’s neck serves as a tether, keeping him grounded and preventing him from succumbing to his instincts. The slave brand was burned right over a scent gland, likely the reason Aventurine’s scent is so faint. It’s a stark reminder of how much the man has lost, of the dirty hands that claimed him before, and of how much he has fought to get to where he is today.
He refuses to be added to the list of people who have hurt Aventurine.
The sounds of their bodies coming together again grow sharper and faster, as Ratio moves his hips with renewed intensity. His hand grabs Aventurine’s chin, trying to open up more space for his mouth to latch onto. Ratio’s mouth sucks, and teeth close over the skin, pulling it, leaving small, red marks all over the gambler’s neck. His mouth moves with fervor as he tries to overwrite the scarring with his own marks. He recognizes that the marks he leaves on Aventurine, while beautiful in their bloom—a myriad of purple and red—will ultimately fade away. But just for now, if he’s allowed to, he wants to let Aventurine know that he will give him all of himself.
The feeling is akin to a confession, one that will stay in the back of his mind until he can dissect it properly.
He is filled with the compulsion to witness Aventurine, to see his beautiful face as he unravels. Ratio pulls out abruptly, and Aventurine has no time to protest as Ratio turns him around, their bodies now facing each other. Ratio's hands now grip tightly around his waist and thigh, pulling his leg up to the side. Folded like this, Ratio pushes back into him, Aventurine’s warm walls enveloping him once more, drawing a pleased moan from Aventurine’s lips.
A sound that Ratio wants to tuck away and keep for himself.
The new angle against the wall grants Ratio even deeper access to Aventurine, each thrust drawing forth a symphony of delightful sounds from him: moans, whimpers, gasps, and whines. It is music to Ratio’s ears. The music and chatter from nearby become muffled. The only thing that matters is the man in front of him, the feel of his body, the sounds he makes, and the way he responds to Ratio’s every touch.
His senses tunnel in on Aventurine. On the marks he made on his neck, on the beautiful noises coming out of his mouth, on the scent of honey and petrichor that encompasses him, on his mesmerizing eyes that are glazed over in pleasure, on Aventurine’s cock grinding on his abdomen.
There’s a heat at the bottom of his stomach that he can’t ignore. A sensation that drives him to thrust harder into Aventurine, so much so that his foot can’t quite reach the floor. Ratio's grip tightens on Aventurine's waist and thigh, certain that his hold will leave behind bruises come the end of the day. Aventurine clutches at Ratio's shoulders and back, his nails leaving behind scratches and marks as he desperately grips onto Ratio for support.
Frantic hands grab the back of Ratio’s head, bringing their mouths together in a bruising, passionate kiss. Ratio, as always, lets Aventurine have his way, his lips parting easily as the other man’s tongue slides into his mouth. Feeling a tight clench in his heart at the intimacy, Ratio’s only thought is a desperate desire to be closer to Aventurine, to bury himself even deeper into him. So much so that no one could be sure of where one begins and the other ends.
Ratio responds to the building desire by lifting Aventurine's other leg, bending Aventurine almost in half. His hands grip tightly onto Aventurine's supple thighs, supporting the full weight of the Aventurine’s body. At the new position, Aventurine yelps in surprise.
"I've got you," Ratio reassures him.
Aventurine just gives a small laugh, “You’re so dependable, Ratio.”
The words of praise go straight to his cock and his blood sings. Ratio begins moving with fervor, letting gravity do some of the work. He thrusts up and allows Aventurine to fall onto his cock, pulling him down roughly, their hips meeting halfway. The pleasure of Aventurine grinding down on him so deeply is dizzying and he can feel his knot beginning to form. Each thrust slowly stretches out Aventurine’s rim more and more, his knot threatening to pop in at any second. He can feel the string of pleasure inside of him growing taut, ready to snap. He’s close, so close.
Aventurine is too, going by the way he’s moaning and clutching Ratio’s shoulders with a mounting desperation. The pleasure of his cock grinding on Ratio’s abdomen combined with Ratio filling him up so well has him nearing his end quickly. His gasps grow louder and more desperate as Ratio’s knot gets closer and closer to entering him.
“Mmh…R-Ratio, I’m–”
Ratio cuts him off with a kiss, slipping his tongue into Aventurine’s pliant mouth. With one final push, the knot finally pops in, making them moan in each other’s mouths. Aventurine’s body tightens when the knot enters him, clenching down on Ratio as he comes. It’s with the grip of the wet, solid heat of Aventurine that has him climaxing as well.
He pushes in as far as he can, shallowing thrusting to draw out his orgasm. As they both come down and Ratio catches his breath, his body suddenly feels extremely tired. He can feel his arms and legs cramping from the effort of holding up an adult man for several minutes.
Ratio wants to do nothing more than collapse right now but manages to ease them both down to the floor carefully, ensuring Aventurine is settled comfortably in his lap. They are still joined by the knot and will be for a few minutes, keeping them intimately connected. He rests his head on the gambler’s shoulder, noticing that his scent has started to dissipate already. He takes stock of the messy aftermath, seeing the bites and kisses on Aventurine's neck. Their chests are smeared with Aventurine’s cum, and slick covers both of their thighs, making him wish for an immediate shower.
Distantly, he feels Aventurine running a hand through his hair as the world outside the shower room comes back into focus. The sound of the crowd and the music from the band reaches him, bringing the reality of the outside world crashing back in. With it comes the haunting realization of what they just did.
They had intercourse. Practically in public. Where all of their coworkers could have seen them.
“Fuck,” Ratio mutters, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him.
Aventurine chuckles softly, his hand still gently stroking Ratio’s hair. “Don’t worry, Doc. I had a view of the door. Nobody saw or heard us... I think.”
Ratio lets out an exasperated sigh. Not very reassuring.
“Do you regret it?”
He lifts his head as Aventurine's question catches him off guard. Aventurine’s eyes give nothing away, but the clipped smile is back on his face.
He considers his response carefully before answering. Ratio regrets doing such a thing in public, but he does not regret having intercourse with Aventurine; he never has. The dizziness and restless energy that plagued him before are gone, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation. He grabs Aventurine’s hand and interlaces their fingers together before speaking. His hand is soft and warm like the rest of him.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” he starts, taking a deep breath. Aventurine stops brushing his hair, his hand freezing in mid-motion as he looks at Ratio intently. “Not in the open like this, where anyone could have seen us.”
“I didn’t know you were so possessive, Doc,” he says, his voice flippant. A teasing grin tugs at his lips, deflecting with playful words, but his eyes refuse to look at Ratio.
“It was irresponsible to let our desires override our judgment in such a way,” Ratio continues as Aventurine fixes him with an unreadable expression. Ratio doesn't bother to answer the underlying question: Why did he follow Aventurine despite his better judgment? He truly doesn’t know. But as time goes on, he finds it harder to say 'no' to the gambler, pulled in by his magnetizing charm.
“However–” he attempts to continue, but Aventurine interrupts him.
“I get it, Ratio. Don’t waste your breath on me any longer.” Aventurine attempts to disentangle his hand from Ratio’s, but he holds on.
Ratio takes a deep breath, and his gaze meets Aventurine's firmly despite the racing of his heart.
“-However, my symptoms are alleviated for now. Your… assistance in the matter is greatly appreciated,” he says, his voice betraying a hint of embarrassment at expressing his honest feelings.
Aventurine's face shows a brief moment of surprise before his gaze softens, the tension in his face now gone.
“Aw, you should’ve just said thank you like a normal person.”
Aventurine bridges the short distance between them and kisses him—a quick peck, merely a brush of their lips. It doesn't mean anything, but his face heats up all the same.
Ratio clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “We should clean up. We’re filthy.” His knot has gone down, and he can finally pull out of the warm heat of Aventurine.
Aventurine chuckles and nods. “Yeah, good idea.”
Aventurine goes to stand up first, using Ratio’s shoulders as support. Except when he places his hands on Ratio’s shoulders, Ratio yelps in pain, startling both of them. When Aventurine looks over Ratio’s shoulders and back, he sees the wide expanse of red that covers the skin.
“I think you got sunburned, Doc.”
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After a (painful) quick shower and putting their clothes back on, Aventurine got a bottle of aftersun lotion from Topaz who was now questioning how the always meticulous Doctor got sunburned.
“Dr. Ratio, this is pretty bad,” Topaz grimaces while viewing the angry redness of Ratio’s back. "You must have been in the sunlight for a long time."
“Yeah, Doc, why didn’t you notice?” Aventurine teases him while pouring a generous amount of the lotion straight onto his back. He tenses at the cold sensation and slight pain, glaring daggers at Aventurine from his prone position on a lounge chair.
“Were you too preoccupied with something else?” At the word ‘preoccupied’ Aventurine presses his fingers onto his back, causing him to hiss in pain.
He hears Topaz sigh, “Is this another one of your games, Aventurine?”
Aventurine brings his hands to his chest, an expression of exaggerated hurt on his face as he gasps. “Topaz! Why, I would never hurt the good Doctor.”
Topaz looks completely unamused as she witnesses Aventurine’s performance. “Well, whatever.”
She bends a bit to look at Ratio and gives a smile. “Hope you feel better soon, Doctor Ratio!”
Ratio manages a grateful smile. “Thank you, Topaz.” As she walks away toward the mansion entrance, Ratio watches the Sun begin to set, casting a warm glow over the retreat grounds. The atmosphere is shifting; people are starting to prepare for the night’s festivities.
Aventurine positions himself to straddle Ratio’s glutes and massages the lotion on his shoulders. It’s painful at first, but the cooling sensation feels heavenly on his burned skin. Aventurine’s fingers are nimble and attentive, carefully massaging the lotion around the more sensitive areas near his scent glands.
It feels pleasant and despite the circumstances, he’s more relaxed than he has been in weeks. He loses himself in the sensation, basking in the quiet moment. Aventurine then moves onto his upper back, where the burn is most severe. At Aventurine’s administration in that area, Ratio can’t help but squirm and groan in pain.
“Relax, want me to kiss it better?” Aventurine says not at all gentle, a smirk clearly plastered on his face.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Just a little, I got so lucky after all,” Aventurine admits, his voice dreamy. “Getting to rub lotion on the Veritas Ratio’s muscles, right after getting ravished by him outside…”
Ratio's face flushes crimson at Aventurine's words, the memories of their earlier encounter fresh in his mind. Aventurine puts more lotion, rubbing it further down his back. “Not many people can say that right?”
No one can say that. No one but Aventurine.
“You always speak such nonsense,” Ratio sputters, hiding his face from Aventurine’s gaze.
Aventurine laughs, his fingers continuing their careful work. “Alright, I’ll speed it up. But I’m still taking this occasion to relish in my good fortune.”
As Aventurine's fingers glide over his back, Ratio winces at the small, sharp stings of pain. Each gentle press sends jolts of discomfort through him. However, as Aventurine's touch continues, an unexpected warmth begins to spread through his chest. It's a bittersweet contrast - the pain of the burn blending with the tenderness of Aventurine's touch. The sensation leaves Ratio feeling oddly content.
The realization hits him that this is the first time someone has taken care of him since he was a child. From a young age, Ratio had learned to take care of himself, as the adults in his life had placed high expectations on him and assumed he was independent and able to handle everything on his own.
Everyone expects Doctor Ratio to be self-sufficient, and he is. But being cared for like this is a forgotten comfort, one he hadn’t realized he missed until now. He fully melts into the warm feeling, allowing himself to indulge in this fleeting moment before he has to be Doctor Ratio again. He closes his eyes, letting the sensation of Aventurine’s fingers wash over him, the pain dissipating as the lotion soothes his sunburned skin.
“Alright, Ratio,” Aventurine announces a few minutes later, giving Ratio’s shoulder a light pat and getting off of him. “All done.”
Ratio opens his eyes, feeling a slight pang of disappointment that the moment is over. He already misses Aventurine’s soft hands on his skin. He sits up slowly, lightly stretching his back, and finds the pain has been significantly reduced. The sun has almost fully set by now, leaving them as the only two people outside. The banquet has begun inside the mansion, and soft notes of jazz drift through the air.
Aventurine sits down next to him. “Feeling better?”
His hypnotic eyes look into Ratio’s own and he finds his breath taken away by how beautiful Aventurine is. The fading light of the setting sun casts a warm glow on Aventurine's blond hair, making it appear like a halo around his head. The warm rays lend a tender touch to his usual sharp gaze and bring out the light freckles on his nose. He has a million words to which he can describe Aventurine’s beauty, but none can properly encapsulate it. They all feel lacking, making his voice catch in his throat.
Most people find his delivery of words too harsh, too blunt. They have caused tears, anger, and violence. If his words don’t get through to others, if they are to be misconstrued, then he will communicate with his actions.
Before he ‘overthinks it’ as Aventurine likes to say, he cups Aventurine’s face and brings their lips together. The kiss is calm and gentle, the opposite of how they were kissing earlier, but no less sweet. There is no burning desire, no need to claim. A simple, tender connection. For this instant, they aren't Doctor Ratio and Aventurine, just two ordinary men.
When they pull apart, Ratio has a soft smile on his lips. “Yes, thank you, Aventurine,” his voice carrying a depth of emotion he rarely shows.
A small smile graces Aventurine’s features, but it's more genuine than anything else. “Anytime, Ratio.”