Chapter Text
He wasn't sure when it started. (A lie. It started at a birthday party for some other IPC bigwig when they were both bored and had had a little too much to drink. He'd woken up the next morning the same way he always did when Ratio was involved– a glass of water and neatly folded clothes on his bedside table.)
It had become somewhat of a routine now. He'd call the Doctor, they'd go out for dinner or lunch or, if Aventurine was lucky and Ratio was in a particularly good mood, a drink. (Which, of course, meant Aventurine would drink and Ratio would nurse a glass of juice.)
It was a simple arrangement. No feelings, no strings attached, and when they got bored of each other, they could call it off and it would be just fine.
Just. Fine.