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Aventurine could hardly breathe, the loud sounds and lights of the concert shaking his vision as the disgusting heat and sweat of other people pressed up against him, moving and thriving as they moved to the rhythm of the music with a ridiculous fervor. The vehemently flashing scenes on the large TVs assaulted his mind, and his throat clenched so hard he swore he was suffocating. Somewhere, locked in a distant part of him, there was something telling him to get out of there, but he had a mission to do, a person to find while the hype was still up-
And so he mirrored the people around him and slipped into his persona, laughing with tears in his eyes as the pounding vibrations of the speakers made everyone dance whether they liked it or not.
He tried to make out the sounds of Robin’s smooth, lilting voice in the midst of the music, but he couldn’t, and with a sudden cold twist, he realized that he was getting crushed, shoved down-
There was a large, calloused palm on his shoulder, and he realized it as he was pulled out of the tumult. There was warmth radiating off the good doctor, and Aventurine held on tight to the broad chest as he blindly followed Ratio. There was an absurd amount of appreciation surging through Aventurine, and he didn’t quite know what to do with it.
There was a moment where they both stilled, and Aventurine couldn’t find it in himself to open his eyes and face the flashing lights again, and so he assessed the situation. The scent of alcohol and smoke was something he was used to, but here, it ran thick and heavy, and it clogged and invaded his senses and nose in a way that made him want to scratch out his throat. He wanted to cough, and couldn’t. He wanted to throw up, and couldn’t. He wanted to yell at the world, and couldn’t.
Why had he come here, again? The alcohol was really blurring everything around the edges.
Oh, right. Because no one else could handle it.
Ha, of course. This mission was practically made for him, molded to his exact abilities. He had, after all, gone where no one else had, where no human whatever supposed to go, and bounced back just fine. Surely he could do it again, right? Surely?
All he had, now, was the fuzzy comfort of the muscular, but plush chest that he had pressed his cheek against, and the strong, steady heartbeat that pounded inside. The bicep under his fingers. The arm that laid on his waist. The soft breath that puffed above him.
What…was he doing? This was- t̵h̷i̸s̴-
(He didn’t deserve such warmth.)
It had to be an illusion. It had to be. This was Doctor Veritas Ratio, the man who-
Had given him a moment of reprieve, a moment to compose himself.
Aventurine jerked back, stumbled, pressed himself against the opposite wall in the peaceful corridor that Ratio had somehow found. He couldn’t- His nails scraped the wall.
It had to be an illusion. There was no other option.
His eyes, refocusing, caught on the soft glint of Ratio’s laurel hair pin, and then-
His eyes. In the dimness, they were all that Aventurine saw, because they glowed like pools of molten lava. Aventurine’s heart stuttered in a way it never did even under the most dire situations. Of course it was caused by this man, Aventurine thought, a bit deliriously. After all, who else could it have been?
And then, Aventurine snapped out of it for a second, and truly assessed him. Ratio’s eyes were oddly wide, lips tight, brows furrowed, but there was a distinctly restless aspect about him, something in the way that his shoes tapped and his fingers stimmed with the ghostly white chalk in his hands that dissolved into powdered dust at his touch.
“Doc? Are you- Are you alright?” Aventurine blurted out, his mouth moving on its own. He inhaled, exhaled. He had to get rid of his drunkenness before it made him do something stupid.
Ratio didn’t speak, but he seemed distracted, because his eyes weren’t on Aventurine anymore, and he was- he was moving, now, pacing, hands in his hair, arms shrunken into himself and eyes squeezed shut.
Aventurine couldn’t help it, now, the throb of worry that he felt, and so he detached from the wall and came forward as softly as possible, and waited, in front of Ratio. His gaze rose from the ground to Aventurine’s face, and he wondered what he saw there. His beautiful gemstone eyes? Or the hopelessness that lay within them? Or perhaps he saw the hidden, secretly kept genuineness that was beginning to shimmer on the surface.
Aventurine laid his hand on Ratio’s nape, feeling the hot, delicate skin there, and brought it down towards him. He felt the tumult of confusion in the doctor, before he understood and bowed his head to drop onto Aventurine’s shoulder. He shimmied closer, a little, until they were flush, and it was a quiet, intimate thing, and Aventurine couldn’t help but wonder how this man could be so sweet and harsh at the same time.
Two large palms, Ratio’s hands, found its way onto Aventurine’s waist, and he realized that he didn’t mind it at all. It was the same steadying touch as before, a touch that held to comfort, not to grope. Aventurine combed his fingers, gently, through the short hair at Ratio’s neck, and he heard the steady, slow inhales and exhales of breath, the only thing that he heard against the pounding of the concert that had faded into the background.
A bit helplessly, Aventurine smiled.
They stayed there for a bit, cocooned in the safe warmth they had, and Aventurine found that he was relaxing too, in a way he hadn’t done in a long time. The relaxing that he did at home was hardly sufficient, bouts of restless sleep and dragging through his chores simply because he had to.
This, however, was different. Although Ratio would probably disagree, Aventurine found it somewhat similar to what a good bath would feel like. His mind was smoothing into little ripples of water, and his muscles were loosening in the warmth. Mindlessly, he realized that he had been tracing the contours of Ratio’s clothed back, something that he had never been able to do before. He had only ever done small, teasing touches, as that was decorum, but all rules had been thrown out the window at this point.
He would wake up in the morning, and he would hate himself. He would scold himself for overestimating himself and drinking the alcohol. For being reckless.
(Not with his life, of course.)
(...but with his relationship with Ratio.)
He allowed it, though. This one time, to indulge. Like this, eyes closed, he could imagine that he had a chance of experiencing this for the rest of his life. That it wasn't only a situational thing.
After all, what are the chances he’ll get a second time?
(Zero to none.)
When Aventurine’s hand drifted back up to feel the soft hair, he met the cold stone of Ratio’s bust, instead. A sudden rush of clarity came along with a good pinch of guilt as Aventurine realized that Ratio may not have been enjoying this as much as he had been. He detached himself, carefully, and felt the smoky air come between them.
“Well, doc, how was that for a hug?” And then, when Ratio didn’t respond, “Haha, my bad if I made you a little uncomfortable there. You know what they say about me, and I just found you a littleee too enticing.” Aventurine added a wink on top, just to douse him in more sugar.
Ratio, again, didn’t speak, only turning his marble head with its blank eyes on Aventurine. His arms were crossed, his fingers were still twirling his chalk, but he had stopped pacing. The restlessness had dissipated slightly, had melted into something softer.
Aventurine was the master at adapting. He knew how to tip the scales, how to make everyone think that they were winning, and then pull the carpet out from under their feet. He knew how to flutter his lashes and open wide. How to survive, how to win, how to thrive.
Aventurine didn’t know how to deal with this. He was lost in these waters.
And so, he tried his best.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Aventurine asked, softly.
And then, he noticed the heat radiating off of the doctor. The dark flush that coloured his neck and surely went up his face. The trembling. And he connected the dots.
“Oh shit…” Aventurine rubbed his forehead worriedly. “I think you’re drugged.”
Ratio exhaled, shakily.
“Can you take off your bust for me? It’s handsome, don’t get me wrong, but…”
After a moment of hesitation, Ratio did a small hand gesture, and with an audible pop, it disappeared, leaving small dregs of dust to fall to the floor.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no, he was done for.
Ratio was oh so flushed, and Aventurine would be the greatest liar in all the universe if he were to say that didn’t affect him, that he was having perfect normal thoughts for the doctor, because his cheeks were red, and his eyes were glowing softly in a way that was truly reminiscent of the dawn, the lush purple hair was clinging to his forehead, beads of sweat were dripping down his jaw, and-
He had to-
Oh goddess, he couldn’t even think straight.
( “ I wonder why, you idiot,” the Topaz in his head said.)
Aventurine laid a hand on Ratio’s bicep to indicate that he’d be gone for a bit, and he braced himself as he stepped out of the corridor. It was better now, though, his senses feeling less sensitive. He scouted for an exit, and after peering around some corners, he found one.
Coming back for Ratio, Aventurine found him tucked into the darkest corner, back to the wall in what most people would assume is contemplation, but is actually laced with a tight tension and stress. Aventurine grasped his hand, lightly, and said, “I’m going to take you outside, Ratio. Are you alright with that?”
The doctor nodded, softly, and stepped away from the wall and into Aventurine’s arms.
The gambler had not, in fact, expected to bear so much of Ratio’s weight, and they began stumbling more than walking over to the exit that was just a little ways away. Ratio winced as he was exposed to the loud sounds again, and Aventurine tightened his grip around the doctor’s shoulder, wondering why he didn’t put his bust on.
Aventurine could imagine how odd this must’ve looked to other people. A reckless dirty whore with the sharp-tongued professor. The stoneheart and the scholar. They could’ve been roommates, students, genuine friends, even. The type that Ratio deserved. Aventurine would not forget that they were just-
Coworkers.
And then, they were out.
“Thank the goddess,” Aventurine breathed, feeling the cool breeze against his skin, inhaling it and letting it cleanse his body. It couldn’t quite wash out the smoke that still clung to his throat, or the burning taste of alcohol that dried his mouth, but it was so much, so much better than before.
In his peripheral, he saw Ratio experience the same sort of relief, chest rising and falling serenely and gazing at the sky. Miraculously, some of the stars in the distance were visible, free of the concert’s terrible air pollution and smoke.
Aventurine didn’t want to dissect whatever the hell had caused all his senses to overpower and burn their outlets, maybe only just enough to ensure that it would never happen again.
“Damned gambler,” was the first thing that Ratio said, voice hoarse from misuse, and Aventurine felt the shock of hearing that deep timbre after what felt like so long. “I apologize,” he continued. “And…thank you. For helping me through that.”
For Veritas Ratio, however…
“How often does it happen?”
Ratio fiddled with his chalk again, gaze turned to the side, denying Aventurine of his face. “Less than it used to. I have been able to better regulate the things that cause my overstimulation.”
Aventurine exhaled, ran a hand through his mussed up hair. He tried to pick up the scattered pieces of his mask, of his sanity, and couldn’t. “No, I’m sorry, Doc. I was the one that dragged you on this mission in the first place. You needn’t have gone, nevertheless follow me here. It was a lapse in judgement, as you would call it.”
Ratio fiddled with the chalk, a methodical rhythm that contrasted with the tension of the moment. “I could tell you were overstimulated, too,” he said softly. His voice carried none of its usual sharp edges, only something uncomfortably close to understanding. “I was…being another demand on you. I understand how it feels.”
He extended a hand towards Aventurine, and a bit hesitant, he took it. Ratio didn’t kiss it, but it was still a surprising anchor. Ratio sucked in a steadying breath, as if bracing himself, and said, “I didn’t get drugged.”
Aventurine faltered. “What do you mean? You were sweating, trembling, flushed…I don’t understand.”
“That was because of you, Aventurine.” A long moment. “The whole time…” Ratio blushed, and scowled, tightening his grip on Aventurine’s hand, “I may have enjoyed it more than I should have.”
Aventurine took a moment, and then gaped at the doctor. “You’re telling me- You were just horny?”
“Oh, for the love of Nous.” Ratio groaned, dropping Aventurine’s hand. And then, grumpily, “Don’t act as though you weren’t affected, either.”
There was a small, sweet moment, where Aventurine felt something in his heart throb. And so, he reached forward, and cradled Ratio’s cheek with his hand. The doctor turned his head, a bit shyly, to rub at it, and then pressed a kiss into the inner palm.
Ha, Aventurine thought, so he is a romantic.
He leaned forward the couple crucial inches between them, and pressed their lips together.
Ratio’s lips were warm, a stark contrast to Aventurine’s. They were plush, velvety, and the sheer indulgence of them was almost too much to handle. It was a chaste thing, and Aventurine waited for a push, a shove, a forceful prod, but it never came. He was so…so patient, so welcoming and warm.
“Ratio,” Aventurine breathed, already breathless into the sweet space between them.
“Call me Veritas,” he murmured, and Aventurine was long, long gone.
Veritas’ hands were everywhere, cradling Aventurine as he went on his tippy toes to comb his fingers through Veritas’ soft purple locks and deepen the kiss of his own volition, soaking up the warmth and the heat of it, letting out small pants of praise. It was like a sleepy drug, the way he could feel how Veritas was being undone, the strands of his sanity going loose, and Aventurine couldn’t believe that it was his doing. He couldn’t believe that he had found someone like this beautiful person, someone who didn’t need the act of hard sex or lust or fucking to rouse such emotions, and he found himself letting out small whispers, genuine little things that he had never done before. He heard it mirrored in Veritas, the soft words of encouragement. Aventurine had once believed that it was a delicate, brief thing between them, this alliance, but Aventurine had found a companionship and so much more.
He pressed his tongue onto Veritas’, and felt the lushness of it, heard the irrepressible groan that Aventurine swallowed. And then Aventurine started moving away from Veritas’ lips, tracing kisses down his face, breathing puffs of heat onto Veritas’ flushed cheeks, cold in the breeze. And, as he got to appreciating the gorgeously defined jaw, soaking in the way Veritas’ body was completely flush to his-
Aventurine felt an intense surge of heat as their hard-ons brushed, and he let out a suppressed moan of pleasure, gritted between his teeth because it was far too genuine. A drawn out groan also came from Veritas, which surprised Aventurine.
Doused with the sudden splash of clarity, they detached, both breathing heavily and noses red. This time, it was Aventurine who turned his head away to compose himself, taking slow breaths. He’d never had to do this with previous trysts, he mused. But then again, there was no one that could even compare to Veritas. Aventurine turned back, and Ratio-
His eyes were clear with intent, his lips sweetly pink and bitten, and that pulse of desire throbbed again, unbidden. Aventurine’s gaze was, uncontrollably, dragged down to the poor doctor’s erection, and helplessly, he bit a laugh back. “Qlipoth's tits, doc. You’re huge!”
Veritas scoffed, but the dark flush on his face dampened the effect. “You’re being ridiculous, dear gambler. This is no place for such comments.”
The ridiculous one in question opened his mouth to say something, but Veritas beat him to it. “Dinner at my place, Aventurine?”
There was a soft smile on Aventurine’s face before he could even put it there. He didn’t feel like being Aventurine that night. He felt like being himself, in Veritas’ arms. “Call me Kakavasha.”