Chapter Text
It was nearly midnight when Aventurine finally unlocked the front gate of his apartment complex, suitcase wheels clacking against the stone tiles with every sluggish step.
The last leg of the trip always felt the longest. After eleven months offshore doing planetary audits, navigating orbital disputes, and enduring board meetings so dull he nearly filed for early retirement, all he wanted was a hot bath, a strong drink, and to pass out on his obscenely expensive couch like a man with no thoughts and no regrets.
He unbuttoned his collar with one hand and fished out his keys with the other, muttering to himself.
“A quick bath, then straight to bed…”
His place was his fortress. A sleek corner unit with a view of the city skyline, custom interior design (thank you, gambling luck), and a bathtub deep enough to drown in stress and bubble foam. The one constant that made the chaos of intergalactic work worth it.
But the second he stepped inside, he stopped cold.
There were… shoes by the entryway. Not his. Slippers—dark, practical, and positioned far too neatly.
A faint scent of unfamiliar soap hung in the air. A robe—not his robe—fluttered gently on the coat rack like it belonged.
He blinked. His suitcase thunked to the floor.
He wasn’t alone.
Aventurine had faced debtors with murder in their eyes and board executives who smiled like wolves—but nothing prepared him for the sight awaiting him in his own bathroom.
Still groggy from the long-haul return flight, he staggered toward the familiar sanctuary of his tub.
He opened the door.
There, reclining like a sculpture hand-carved by an overindulgent deity, was a man—gorgeous, naked, glaring—surrounded by bubble foam and an army of rubber duckies.
In. His. Tub.
Aventurine stared.
The man raised a brow and closed the book he’d been reading. Slowly. Like he was the one being interrupted.
“Who are you?!” Aventurine yelped. “This is my house!”
The man didn’t even blink. “Highly unlikely,” he replied, voice low and clipped. “You’re trespassing my house.”
“Tres—trespassing?!” Aventurine sputtered. “Dear mother goddess Gaiathra—are you a homeless burglar? Is this your first bath in weeks? Do you want my extra toothbrush too?!”
The stranger tilted his head lazily. Then flicked his wrist.
Something sharp zipped past Aventurine’s face and embedded in the doorframe behind him with a neat, professional thunk.
Aventurine froze. “Did you just shoot me with a gun?!”
“Zero points for mistaking chalk for a firearm,” the man said evenly. “And for assuming a man enjoying a high-end bubble bath is destitute.”
Then he stood.
Aventurine immediately regretted everything.
The man was unapologetically naked and glistening with steam—like a divine statue sculpted purely from audacity.
Aventurine slapped a hand over his eyes. “Put on a towel, you pervert!”
“I’m in my own home. You’re the intruder.”
“I am five seconds from throwing my shoe at your smug face!”
Before he could do exactly that—or pass out from rage and fatigue—the door burst open.
“Boys!” barked their elderly landlady, framed in the hallway like a thundercloud. “What in Aeon’s name is going on?!”
What followed was a rapid-fire exchange of paperwork and indignation. Aventurine waved his lease like a weapon; the stranger—Ratio, apparently—calmly countered with his rental receipts.
The landlady frowned, pinched the bridge of her nose, and muttered something about divine punishment.
Eventually, clarity dawned.
Apparently, after nearly a year with no contact and assuming Aventurine had moved out, the landlord re-rented the “vacant” apartment to a highly punctual, highly well-paying new tenant. Ratio. Who had also paid a cleaning deposit.
Aventurine’s jaw dropped. “You gave extra money?!”
Ratio didn’t dignify that with a response.
“I’m not dealing with this tonight,” the landlady groaned. “Here’s the deal: one-month trial. You two live together and sort it out. No fighting, no murder. If no one’s set the place on fire by the end of the month, I’ll revisit the situation.”
And just like that, she was gone.
==========
They stood in the living room like two rival kings surveying a betrayed kingdom.
Aventurine gasped. “My cat!”
A gray puffball blinked at him from the couch—noticeably rounder than when he left.
“She’s fine,” Ratio said. “Though judging by the mess when I moved in, I assumed a stray had been squatting here.”
“That mess was my life! I told the landlady to check on her!”
Ratio shrugged. “She was underfed and your designer duffel bags were nesting in the kitchen sink. I intervened.”
“You touched my bags?!”
“The garbage had to go.”
“That wasn’t garbage! That was my seasonal capsule collection and three limited-edition card decks!”
Ratio crossed his arms. “It’s been Ratio-fied. You’re welcome.”
Indeed, the apartment was almost unrecognizable. Brighter. Neater. Offensively organized. Academic books lined the shelves, scrolls peeked from the kitchen island, and—Aventurine blinked—yes, that was a series of small marble busts of Ratio himself on the coffee table.
“I hate it here,” Aventurine muttered.
Eventually, battle lines were drawn—literally. Masking tape across the living room floor. Ratio claimed the master bedroom, citing rent paid in advance. Aventurine, denied his rightful territory, argued violently until the cat wandered into the guest room and curled up on the bed.
That was the end of that war.
By 2 a.m., neither of them had the energy to argue anymore.
==========
Morning arrived with the cruelty of a tax audit.
Aventurine groaned awake, fluffed his hair, and threw on the loudest, most flamboyant suit he owned. His favorite tie practically sparkled.
He kissed his cat goodbye and strutted out the door like a man born anew.
Inside IPC headquarters, he made a beeline for the elevator, grinning at every familiar face along the way.
“Topaz!” he called, spotting a tall woman with short red hair and a coffee in hand. “Looking radiant as ever. Your hair—it’s extra fiery today.”
Topaz was the love of his life. He hadn’t confess to her yet but for now he’s happy that they’re in the same office now.
Topaz barely looked up. “You’re back. Jade’s looking for you.”
Aventurine paused. “She is? For what reason?”
“Something about your promotion. I think you’re officially getting inducted into the Stone Hearts like us. Congrats.”
He blinked. “Wait—seriously? That’s… that’s actually kind of a flex.”
Topaz smirked. “Don’t get too cocky yet. You’ve got a new supervisor.”
Aventurine froze.
His stomach dropped.
He stepped into Jade’s office.
And choked.
“Ah, Aventurine. I’d like to introduce you to Professor Veritas Ratio,” Jade said brightly, gesturing to the man beside her. “You’ll be working under his observation for the next few months.”
Ratio turned.
Fully dressed in sharp academic black, lab coat crisp, glasses perched perfectly on his nose. He looked like a sculpture of smug efficiency.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Ratio said coolly. “Mr Aventurine. I hope we will work together well in the following months.”
Aventurine’s soul briefly left his body. What happened to his luck lately?
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To be continued.