Chapter Text
Aventurine isnt someone to trust so blindly, so easily, as much as he may get others to trust him, even temporarily, before it all falls apart, before he ruins it, or before its ruined naturally, by circumstances. Always circumstances that revolve around him, around who he is, who he was, who he might or might not be.
Around the lies he has spread around to conceal himself, his past, which although in full display, he has never dared to confess so personally.
Then, there comes a doctor who takes those lies off like a mask, peeling it away slowly and careful, and gentle, like he's carving out the beauty into — or out of — a piece of rough stone, delicately going over the edges, baring the ugly stone into its beautiful shape.
That is, the same way a sculptor will influence its work with his own problems, although unintentionally.
And Aventurine loved ratio for that, badly. He reproached him for being so comforting, so focused on trying to fix something as shattered as him, and while being so distant still. ‘Love me overwhelmingly, or don't love me at all’ he would think, in hopes that the doctor could be as unbearable as the rest, as aggravating, that he could have an excuse to once again run away from everything. Or for him to not be loved at all, for that was the norm, the one thing he was used to, for not one person to really know him.
Excuses, all to try and get away from the fact that yes, Ratio did care, and yes, he cared enough that he wouldn't dare to step too close. Sometimes that line was faintly crossed, and then Aventurine would stutter in his confidence, find his act flawed, affected by the sheer honesty, almost cruelty of the doctor's.
Even then, he'd wake up to his text messages sometimes. Far too often lately, so much so he'd developed the small habit of actually checking his inbox. A casual "Hey there." or simple questioning, about work, occasionally slipping into deeper conversations, never too far.
And Aventurine had grown to appreciate the doctors presence. He couldn't describe it, of course not, but it felt comforting, kind.
This time, the conversation circled around an event for the IPC, simple get-togethers that although revolting and exciting, usually served the sole purpose of influencing business partners, and dragging more people in.
Of course Aventurine would attend, although obligated to, he'd go more so for the fun part of it, which simply meant he'd take some risks. He just didn't think one of them would have to involve the doctor.
Ratio would be present as well, of course he had to be. Half of the IPCs departments would be, so Ratio found himself caught in the same cage.
You're really going?? I didn't take you for someone interested in parties, doctor~
I had no choice. But I believe its best at least someone gets to be there to stop your....antics. Shame it falls on me again.
Oh come onnn
Who do you take me for? Antics????
You know what I mean.
You know you won't always be there to stop me, right, doc?
Hm.
"Pff." As much as aventurine enjoyed taunting and texting Ratio, he had business to attend to, people to meet. And so he did, taking a quick shower and grabbing something to eat before going on with his day, before the event later this evening.
He didn't message ratio again.
Oh, but did he spend some time thinking of him. Sure he had his own life, and at times he wanted to yell that out to the doctor, who was so concerned, that sometimes his actions would betray him and he'd be too questioning, too focused on him. But Aventurine could not lie about the fact that, lately, he had been in his mind as well. Too often.
He'd think of all the trouble he's brought, and all the trouble he was sure he'd bring into the doctor's life too. He wondered if he was more of a burden to the doctor, unlike what the doctor was to him, more like a painful reminder that there is someone who knows him better than himself.
From the times he'd been in the presence of the doctor, by coincidence or genuine interest, when he'd been all too comfortable within his office, or even his house.
It was odd, the nature of their relationship. Far too casually, Aventurine would stop by Ratio's house, every time with a different excuse, but always the same goal: to see the doctor, to hear his voice, to simply enjoy something with him. And Ratio was too willing, so uncharacteristically.
He was sure he'd dropped some words too honest to even think about them without some sort of regret, or perhaps embarrassment, times at which he'd been too comfortable, too warm in ratio's presence, to even notice he'd said he loved him, or to say he meant so much to him.
Ratio took those words in mindlessly, and Aventurine doesn't remember if the doctor said them back. If he did, he felt he never truly meant them. He couldn't possibly stand that.
-
The day went by quite boring, quickly, in the wait of the event in the evening. He got home a couple hours early, and took such time to idle a bit, spend time with the cat cakes, patiently sat in his bed until it was time.
When it was, Aventurine attended the party cheerfully, chatting around, engaging in some conversation, sweet talking his way into striking a couple good deals, indulging in the taste of the sweet food provided, and especially, putting the open bar to good use.
After some time of tiring small talk and re-encounters with both good and unpleasant acquaintances alike, he went to sit down at the bar, noticing a nicely dressed man of fluffy blue hair.
“Hello, doctor!” He chimed in. “Thought I'd never find you within all the people, you know, you're not very outstanding here~”
Ratio glanced at him, eyeing him up and down, perhaps unconsciously.
“You must know that is not my intention. Unlike someone else's…”
Aventurine laughed, pushing the chair a bit closer to Ratio.
“Aww, come on. What's a party for if not to dress up and have fun!”
“Too much fun, it seems.” He glanced at the gambler, watching as he asked for another drink.
He slumped himself onto Ratio's shoulder. “Awh.”
“You know nothing, doctor.”
“Hm. Maybe I don't, but I'm simply trying not to have to deal with your ‘party self’ later on.”
“Well what does it matter? You know, you can enjoy your time with me and simply leave once you're done, doctor.” He smiled, looking up at Ratio.
“I'd rather not.” He straightened himself as Aventurine moved away from his shoulder, having leaned into the gambler’s touch unconsciously. “I'm not interested in whatever you want to imply, gambler. That we are coworkers does not mean I must run behind you at every one of your mistakes.”
“What an honour.”
He mocked, speaking more out of irritation than rationality. But he was never the rational one out of the two.
“To be an acquaintance of the Doctor's. you'd even call me a friend, wouldn't you?”
That, a friend. One he cared a lot about, no doubt, as much as Aventurine would like to deny it....and he really wishes he didn't care at all.
“You don't want to run behind me? You basically are, doctor.”
He sat up properly, looking directly at him.
“Going out of your way to be so intrusive-” He finished his drink in one go.
Ratio stood silently, uncertain, although his serious composure remained.
"But I don't want your help.
I don't want to tell you anything, as much as you'd like to hear.
You speak of my wellbeing, you speak of what I deserve.
I don't believe any of it. You say I deserve love...doctor." He stuttered, losing his confidence bit by bit.
"And you hold it there...dangling it right in front of my eyes, unreachable."
He sat silently for a moment, never looking towards Ratio. He feared that a single glance at the sunrise in his eyes would have him wishing for belonging again. And he knew he'd indulge in the false comfort—which at times felt too real— that the doctor offered.
So selfish. He thought, and tried to instead think about how the doctor would feel.
Ratio remained silent, a glass of liquor near his hand. Untouched.
Aventurine noticed he might have said too much, bared too much of just how annoying the doctor seemed to him.
“You speak of beauty, Ratio, you speak of everything, words so unlike you, and i cannot believe you. If you do tell the truth then show me, show me that you really mean this.”
…
Aventurine sighed, defeated.
“I can't take this. You really are too much. “
He felt the faint touch of Ratio's hand to his’. By accident or purposefully, his thoughts began to run in circles, thinking of what the doctor intended to say.
You fool, you idiot. Oh, off you'll go into luck, into saying just how much you think i deserve that happiness, no words are needed to know that painful gaze, that says— that screams “Not me.”
Aventurine stopped trying some time ago.
Around the time where he'd bared his heart too openly, when he was sure ratio knew what he meant. Where all the truth was on display and Ratio seemed all too close, too interested in anything he had to say, there, miserably curled into the sofa with the doctor slightly tending to him, still so distant. But, it felt so honest.
Ratio offered that, he made sure to imply it, never say anything directly. Aventurine had learnt to understand what he meant with all of his avoidant words, learnt to identify that maybe the doctor cared too much, and he hated it.
He offered, in his own way, a place of comfort, as much as Aventurine would ever get to see, even if limited. A warm place, something like a home
'A place to be your own self.'
isn't that what the doctor would say? Was he really himself any time? Sure, the doctor had seen through the cracks in his act, surely he knew that it was all a play, but god, Aventurine never knew how to confess to any of the truths without being a complete mess. It was a fear of his, to never really be understood without telling the truth, but for the truth to be so painful to speak.
It's all a lie, doctor. Please dont waste yourself on this.
Your care, your distant and yet unbelievably annoying love. How dare you, hold out your hand knowing its just a bit away from being able to reach me, to try and care for something you won't even dare to touch. Don't waste this on me Doctor.
You tell me not to waste myself on you. Aren't we both troubled? But,
You're the one who set that barrier.
So I'll sit down, I'll understand. And It'll be another layer to that mask, to pretend that i don't love you, incessantly so, and that I don't want everything to do with you.
Aventurine returned from his trance, his daydreaming, whatever it was that time and time again never failed to make him aware of the fact that…really, all this was his own fault.
Ratio hadn't moved. For a while, the gambler found solace in his simple presence. He learnt not to rely on the doctor's words, for they had caused him so much pain, as good as his intentions were.
So they sat quietly for some time, Aventurine idly drinking just about any glass he was handed, worsening his condition.
He couldn't stand feeling the doctor's eyes burning onto him, he didn't even dare to turn around, he could feel them.
Irritated, Aventurine pushed the empty glass away, lifting himself up from the chair to get above Ratio's eye level, hoping to gain some, if any, leverage.
“Do you know how much I've lied to you, Ratio!?” He yelled, slightly stumbling in his words.
“Do you have any idea… well, I've done so all my life and it's practically a part of me, and yet, you make it so hard to.. not want to be honest. But I have been ratio! And what have you done about it? Tell me that…that you simply don't want to love me in such a way.”
He felt dizzy. Moving so much while inebriated proved counterproductive. The chair was tilting with his weight towards Ratio.
“You keep your distance but you never leave. I don't want this! You're just…complicating everything.”
Ratio pulled him down from the chair, sitting him down properly, Aventurine's weight now supported by one of Ratio's arms.
“Gambler.” The doctor stopped him. “Calm down.”