Work Text:
Some people talk just to fill silence. It’s a common mannerism among those who tend to overthink, whose brains run at such a constant rate that they feel discomfort when a room is quiet. Ratio didn’t see the appeal in this habit. He couldn’t imagine being someone who had so many thoughts it was difficult to contain them internally. And typically, he preferred not to be around this type of person. Most of the time.
Aventurine was a prime example of a person who seemed to love the sound of their own voice. In the first months of their knowing each other, Ratio quickly caught on to the fact that there was a lot to find out about Aventurine. Not that he had particularly wanted to find anything out, but Aventurine seemed to believe that Ratio absolutely needed to know what his deal was. As they’d gotten closer and friendlier, Ratio was confident that he knew more information about Aventurine than anyone else. His past, his family, scores of random anecdotes that ranged from stupid to heartbreaking– he knew it all, just by quietly listening.
At one point, he had cursed his own ability to remember all of this information. Aventurine had tricked him into appearing on that IPC talk show, which was a gamble in itself. He had (albeit correctly) assumed Ratio retained the miscellaneous Aventurine-facts well enough to be able to recall them. On live television. Which Ratio had done, of course, to the best of his ability. And it had ended up alright– for Aventurine, at least. Ratio hadn’t been able to catch a break from his incessant teasing for at least a week after. But going on the show made Ratio realize something. Aventurine seemed to have him figured out– a product of the work he did for the Corporation, to be sure. But Ratio did not usually talk about himself to Aventurine. They spoke quite frequently, and their conversations were never dull, but the topics never related to Ratio’s personal life. Even though they had been friends a while now, and Ratio was no longer spending time with him out of work obligation. He immensely enjoyed being around Aventurine and was determined to reciprocate his willingness to talk about nothing in particular. Plus, there was this, well, something growing between them. And that something outweighed Ratio’s intraversion.
So the next time one of his lectures ended early, he went and waited for Aventurine to get off of work. It’s not unusual for me to do this, he reminded himself somewhat lamely, sitting on a bench next to the IPC Headquarters’ shuttle stop. He’s told me repeatedly he’s free at the drop of a hat. I need only to ask. Ratio snapped out of his overthinking as a suited figure exited the building and began walking in the opposite direction.
“Gambler,” he called, standing up. Aventurine practically screeched to a halt at the sound of Ratio’s voice. He turned on his heel and bounded over, putting on that bright smile Ratio had come to learn was reserved only for him.
“Hi,” he said sweetly.
“Do you have a moment?” At this, Aventurine looked around facetiously before pointing at himself with mock surprise on his face.
“Me?” Ratio rolled his eyes.
“Yes, you.”
“I have more than a moment for you, doc. What’s up?”
“Are you free right now?” Aventurine looked around again, this time twisting his entire body dramatically. “Oh, stop it.”
“This is just such a rare opportunity.”
“You see me all the time,” Ratio said. Aventurine laughed.
“Sure, but you’ve rarely sought me out before.” Hadn't he? Ratio went silent to consider this.
“I suppose not. But you'll allow me to remedy that?”
“Doc, I– where is this coming from?”
“I simply want to talk to you.” Still staring curiously at Ratio, Aventurine wordlessly waved down a shuttle. One stopped in front of them, automatic doors sliding open slowly for them to enter. A few other people stood inside idly, not looking up to acknowledge the two new passengers. Ratio took hold of one the ceiling handrails. Aventurine leaned against Ratio. Their hands brushed together just slightly.
“How was your day?” Ratio asked softly, tilting his head to glance at Aventurine’s handsome face.
“Exhausting,” Aventurine sighed, moving almost imperceptibly closer. “Diamond’s been extra strict this week. Hey, did you have a destination in mind?”
“Your choice.”
They exited the shuttle a few stops later, in front of a small cafe Ratio vaguely recognized. The interior was warmer than that of Pier Point’s temperate climate, and smelled of bread and coffee. Soft whirs and clinks came from behind the counter as the employees dished out food and drinks. Patrons sat at tables in groups and alone, some typing away at their screens, some chatting in quiet tones as if they thought being loud would break the pleasant spell cast by the atmosphere. Aventurine gestured for Ratio to sit on a small couch in a corner by a window. Soft rays of sunlight beamed through the prismatic glass, forming tiny rainbows on the tiled floor.
“I’ve never been here before,” Ratio commented.
“Ah, you’ve been missing out. You’re too much of a homebody.”
“Whatever you say.”
“It’s nice, though, right? Intimate.” Ratio nodded, ignoring his choice of vocabulary.
Aventurine tapped a drink order into the screen of a little server robot that rolled by. “You want anything? On me.”
“No, thank you. I don't…drink…coffee.”
“Really? I don’t think I knew that.” Had Ratio truly failed so miserably in that Aventurine did not know even the most mundane of facts about him? “So, what's going on? Something you needed to discuss or did you just feel like having company?” Ratio sighed.
“I want you to know more about me.” Aventurine blinked twice in response, clearly caught off guard. “To put it bluntly.”
“Wait.” Aventurine squinted at him for a solid five seconds. “Huh?”
“Your drink,” Ratio said in response, nodding at another robot that had just stopped at their feet, holding Aventurine's coffee up on a tray. He picked it up and took a sip, fixing Ratio with a scrutinizing stare.
“Explain,” was all he said.
“I recently realized that I’m not exactly the most forthcoming with information about myself around you. Even though you often tell me about yourself. And I don’t want our… relationship… to be unbalanced. I would like you to know me better, especially now that we're–” He cut himself off. What? Now that we're what? We aren't anything. Despite the abrupt end to the thought, Aventurine grinned at him.
“I never had anyone want to tell me about themself before. People tend to withhold information from me on purpose.” Ratio raised an eyebrow at him, and Aventurine seemed to rethink the statement. “Oh. But you can trust me, though, doc. Your secrets are safe with me.” He gave a little two finger salute, and Ratio had to admit to himself– he was terribly charmed. Aventurine had the unique ability to make him feel simultaneously comfortable and flustered. This was getting out of hand.
Aventurine reclined further into the plushy couch, his arm laid along the back of it to rest against Ratio’s shoulders. “So, did you just want to, uh, tell me things? Or should I ask you my questions?”
“Your questions? You have questions?”
“Of course, I do,” Aventurine said smugly, as if it should somehow have been obvious. “There’s so much I’ve been dying to know about you, Ratio.”
“You’re kidding.”
“A little. But I can’t say I’ve never been curious– I like you too much not to wonder some things. Besides, since we’re…” he trailed off, waving a hand in the air absentmindedly with a knowing smile. Using Ratio’s own unfinished sentences against him. A cheap trick. He refused to let this idiot gambler get into his head.
“Well, go on, then. I'll answer anything.”
“Okay. What’s your favorite color?” Ratio tossed him a puzzled look.
“Blue. Don’t tell me that’s something you’ve been dying to know about me.”
“Oh, I want to know it all, my friend.” Ratio gave a little scoff, knowing the blush rising on his face was actively betraying him.
“Don’t back out on me now, doc. Tell me,” he paused to put his index finger to his chin in false contemplation. “Why don’t you drink coffee?”
“It affects my heart rate. I used to drink it all the time in college and I’m sure I still know how to make it, but it’d be pointless.”
“Interesting. Well, you could make it for me some time. I’d like to try it as a connoisseur who practically lives off the stuff.”
“Sure,” Ratio said weakly, unable to deny him a single thing. “Perhaps try your hand at moderation, though, dear gambler.”
“Eh, who needs that,” Aventurine replied, and, knowing full well the effect he had on Ratio’s head and heart, leaned in closer. His arm snaked further around Ratio’s shoulders. “Next question. What’s your family like?” Ratio could sense his curiosity surrounding this inquiry. He thought about everything Aventurine had said about his own family, and his heart felt like tiny cracks were forming in it.
“My parents are both very kind. Hard-working. They’ve been in multiple fields of research since I was young and they refuse to retire in favor of their love of work.”
“So that’s where you get it from.”
“And I have a younger sister, in her third year of university.” Aventurine fell silent, staring at a point just past Ratio for a few seconds before speaking again.
“Ahh,” he said, faint melancholy in his voice. “So we’ve both been brothers.” Ratio’s heart immediately simulated the feeling of shattering into a million pieces.
“Gambler,” he said waveringly, resting a hand on Aventurine’s knee– which didn’t seem to be the most comforting gesture, but Aventurine had the casual ability to say such devastingly sad things so easily, and Ratio wasn’t the most tactful person out there.
“What’s she like?” Aventurine asked, taking another large swig of his coffee and moving on as if it was all nothing to him.
“Similar to me in some ways, but much more outgoing. She loves people. She’d love you.”
“Awwww,” Aventurine drew out the word, probably imagining a college-aged-woman version of Ratio that vaguely matched his sister’s appearance. “Okay, okay. Last question. Tell me the biggest dream you’ve ever had.” Ratio paused, letting the ambient noise of the cafe make a metaphysical bubble around their little corner. He considered the question.
“To join the Genius Society.”
“Care to expand on that?”
“It isn’t really relevant anymore.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Aventurine said softly. “If you still want to tell me I still want to listen.” Ratio absolutely wanted to tell him.
He started off with the thought in mind that he would tell a concise, abridged story, but Aventurine’s gentle stare and occasional soft hm’s and I see’s made him feel like the words were unraveling, surfacing from a place within him that no else had ever needed to know about. He talked about his disappointment, his convictions, the Society, Nous, even the Council of Mundanites. He didn’t know how long he went on for, but eventually he just trailed off, ending a sentence about knowledge, or… something or other.
“That’s the gist of it,” he said.
“So… you don’t want to be a Genius anymore?”
“It’s not possible,” Ratio said shortly. Aventurine tilted his head to one side, face unreadable, and Ratio’s brain began to evaluate the tone he’d used just as Aventurine started backpedaling.
“Ah, yeah, I’m sure you don’t need my advice–”
“No, I didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s nothing you said, gambler, believe me.” That smile Ratio adored so much returned to Aventurine’s face, and he stood up.
“Let’s get out of here. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk this much, so I’ll give you a break.”
“I don’t mind,” Ratio said, so quietly he wasn’t certain Aventurine heard it.
The last hours of day were fading as they left the cafe. Aventurine turned to Ratio and stepped closer, which scared him a little. They regarded each other for a moment.
“Hey, doc.”
“Hm.”
“Can I hug you? Or, rather, would you want a hug?” Ratio did not give an answer, although the speed at which his brain said yes was almost alarming.
“What?” Aventurine’s smile did not falter for even a second.
“It’s one of my questions. Maybe the most important.” Ratio still could not deny him a thing.
“I’d like a hug.” Aventurine did not hesitate. He took one more step and wrapped his arms around Ratio’s neck. Ratio leaned down to make up the difference in their heights, putting his own arms gently around Aventurine’s waist and resisting the urge to pull him close. Aventurine smelled like coffee, and Ratio’s heart was racing as if he’d had four cups of it. They slowly let go of each other, but one of Aventurine’s hands still lingered against Ratio’s neck. He could feel warmth emanating from his slender fingers, just barely touching his shirt collar. He stared into Aventurine’s eyes, and could have sworn he saw them dart downwards for just a split second, a glimmer of some untold emotion in them. And then it was gone.
“Anyway! Thanks for telling me all that, doc. Hope to do this again sometime.”
“Thank you for listening. I’ve never told anyone those things before.”
“For the record, doc, I’ve never thought that our relationship was unbalanced. I know you care.” He nodded in farewell and started walking away. Ratio watched him for a few seconds, formulating some kind of goodbye.
“Gambler!” he called. Aventurine turned around with a raised eyebrow. “Come over for coffee. This weekend. We can… talk more.”
“Oh?”
“If that’s something you’d want.”
“It always will be.”