Work Text:
The sensations were overwhelming. Too hot. It crawled from the tips of his toes and lodged itself in his throat, making it impossible to breathe. Hands reached him everywhere, grabbing and leaving a stain at every piece of his skin within their reach. He couldn’t breathe.
Aventurine woke up with a start, dropping his body sideways and taking in gasps of air. He watched the cold floor reflect his dirty image as reality began to settle in, the darkness seeming to envelope his self more than it already had; he felt the moonlight nonexistent now. It was scary how quick apathy set in his heart, how nothingness seemed to consume him. He might as well catch the Aeon of Nihility’s glimpse. Aventurine dragged his limbs to pick up his phone, tapping in numbers almost like he was on autopilot; the phone rang just a mere second after he hit the call button.
“Gambler?” A sigh, and then, “I can only assume something bad happened for you to call this late. What is the matter?” The doctor’s voice — always so composed despite being tinged so heavily with sleep — filled Aventurine’s ears. A cog in his brain must’ve turned wrong, because his hands started shaking and his words hung onto his tongue like their lives depended on it.
“...Aventurine?” Another beat of silence. He was still trying to collect himself. Where had that apathy gone, the one that hugged his back mere seconds ago?
“Are you in your apartment? I’m coming over.” Said the doctor before he ended the call. Aventurine let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He sat still in the same position, his hand holding his phone gone limp at his side. He stared at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds tick by, counting the minutes until Ratio arrives at his front door.
Fifteen minutes and twenty seconds. That’s how long it took. The door to his bedroom opened, painting his room — except his figure — with the soft glow of his living room lamp. He basked under Ratio's shadow, taking in the view of his lover, breath a little ragged and a droplet of sweat on his forehead. He must've ran through his apartment building. “Aventurine,” Ratio starts, “did you encounter a troublesome matter?” Aventurine tilted his head to the right and tried to give more feeling into the smile he wore. “Nothing happened. I just missed you.”
Ratio heaved a sigh. He walked closer towards Aventurine’s frame, his composure never breaking. “You know well your little lies don’t work the same effect as they used to.” Aventurine laughed bitterly; how burdened Ratio must feel because of him. How dirty his hands — untainted and honest — must be for holding him. “I didn’t mean to make you come all the way here, doc. you should go back home now.” He lied. He wanted proof that Ratio still cared. He didn't want him to go back home. "Why should I go home?" Ratio questioned.
Aventurine tilted his head to the left this time, staring at Ratio as if the answer had been written down on paper and presented to them. “You shouldn’t spend even more time around me, you know, can’t have it leaving a stain on you.” He smiled, a fake little thing, yet his words had been the truth. His body, scarred in countless different ways, surely was not worthy of being held by arms so sincere.
“‘Stain’?” Ratio raised his eyebrow in disbelief. He slowly knelt down in front of Aventurine and held his arms, searching his face with eyes that burned of passion and purpose, like he could tell what Aventurine was thinking merely by how he blinked. His touch burned through his skin.
“You don’t have to force yourself to touch me.” Aventurine said, eyes looking past Ratio's shoulder, unable to hold his gaze; afraid to. “I’m doing nothing of the sort.” Ratio argued, his brows furrowed. “We both know,” Here, Aventurine’s shoulders began to shake, the remnants of his nightmare replaced the apathy that clawed his throat, “that I’m filthy. We both know why. Why are you pretending like I’m not?” He reasoned, voice unsteady. His gaze pierced through Ratio's soft one in an attempt to scare him off. Now he only felt hideous for replying such a gentle look with his anger.
“Because you are not. No matter the reason.” Ratio shook his head. His hands travelled lower until they landed on Aventurine’s knuckles, always so gentle like he was afraid of crushing him. He brought his hands close to his lips, his next words spoken after a soft kiss: “But since you insist that you are, then I’ll bathe you.” He pressed another kiss there, never breaking eye contact. Aventurine felt shivers running down his spine; he felt lightheaded, like he needed to throw up. How much more will he taint his Veritas Ratio?
"Don't be ridiculous, doc. What's the point in doing that?" He chuckled, yet it felt so cold and foreign leaving his tongue. "The only logical action to take when one feels filthy is to have a bath, isn't that right?" Ratio smiled, his eyes speaking a multitude of words his mouth didn't convey. Aventurine was silent; he stared at eyes that sees right through his lies, and still promised to love the liar. “…I don’t want to. I hate it here, I hate the bath, it feels too cold.” He shook his head and lowered his voice, they trembled with uncertainty and fear, afraid the doctor would leave him for being too difficult; yet said doctor only chuckled, “Then I'll take you to mine.”
Aventurine stared at him wide-eyed. He was better off just leaving him alone and not answering the call. Had he done that, he wouldn’t have to run around in the middle of the night only to please one guy (a guy who wasn’t worth the trouble, to add). “You don’t have to–” “I insist. I want to.” Came his easy reply. How could he make loving Aventurine look so unchallenging? What could Aventurine be giving in return?
They arrived at Ratio’s apartment after a twenty-five minute drive. The way to was quiet, with Ratio’s thumb rubbing small circles on the back of his hand, and the only sound that accompanied them were the other drivers on the near-empty road. Aventurine stood timidly in front of Ratio’s front door, not daring to step in; forgetting that he’s been here countless of times already. Ratio let go of his hand to turn the lights on and set their shoes aside, turning around once he felt Aventurine’s presence no longer linger near him. He saw the other man with not even one foot in his apartment, stuck in the same position they were when he let go of his hand, and sighed.
Ratio grabbed him inside by the waist, leaning down, “This is your home as well as it is mine, you needn't feel uncomfortable.” He whispered against his forehead, closing the door behind them. “Stop that…” Aventurine mumbled and averted his gaze, no longer protected by the facade he worked tirelessly to keep up. He loved being engulfed by the doctor; he loved how safe his arms felt. He loved being surrounded by his scent and held tight enough he wouldn't fall if he were to go limp. He trusted the doctor would never let him fall, the same way he's decided to put trust in his love for him; that it is infinite enough to not view tonight as a burden.
He led Aventurine to his bathroom by hand, leaving him near the sink whilst he prepared the bath. Ratio let the water run and adjusted its heat, the sound of it filling the bathtub was the only sound to fill the silence between them. He added lavender petals and let his rubber duck swim freely across the rising surface of the water. Aventurine held the sink behind him with his left hand tightly, trying to steady his breathing. Once the bath was finished, he'd have to undress. He swallowed down a bile.
Ratio set a stool near his bathtub for him to sit on. He turned over to where Aventurine was standing, ready to guide him into the bath— yet with every step forward he took, Aventurine took a small step back until his waist was pressed against the sink. Ratio stared at him; gaze turned away and a hand hidden behind his back. "I can take my leave if you feel disturbed by my presence." Ratio offered, "No, you're fine, it's just…" Aventurine trailed off, his left hand began to shake, slipping out of his control.
He didn't want Ratio to see.
He'd never even been naked when they made love, his shirt always stayed. Ratio knows of his past — he knows this, but it's different. Knowing something and seeing; a mere thought and a physical evidence; it's too different that it scares him. He can't handle the outcome; Ratio's face when he sees, the disgust on his face, him leaving because he can't stand something so tarnished. He doesn’t even know if his body is still littered with scars and touches of his past or if they’ve faded; he doesn’t want the doctor to be the first to know.
"Kakavasha." The world stilled; in his head, Ratio became the only voice that mattered. Ratio reached for the hand that he'd been hiding, his steady palm wrapped around a quivering one. He brings his hand to his cheek, "I am at a loss for words in how I can convey this to you, but I love you." Aventurine's eyes went wide. For the declaration, for the usage of his real name, for the vulnerability that comes with laying your heart bare.
He tried to pull his hand back, but Ratio secured it in place with his. "You are my highest priority, and I never want to be the cause of your discomfort." He sighed, his voice slightly trembling, "Please don't push yourself, tell me what I can do to make you feel better." He leaned into Aventurine's palm with his brows slightly furrowed. Ratio looked flustered; frustrated, and it was such a new sight for Aventurine that he gasped.
Every word out of the doctor's mouth were another hit to Aventurine, chipping away at the dam until it was not strong enough to hold back the tears. He tried to see Ratio's face clearer through his blurry, teary eyes; incessantly wiping at them. "I'm sorry, I love you too." He whispered, caressing Ratio's cheeks. "I'm afraid you won't like me anymore if you see." He lowered his head, so unaccustomed to his own vulgar display of vulnerability after spending nearly his whole life knowing it was something that could get him killed. This felt foreign to him; it felt scary, being unable to take his words back as they leave his mouth.
"You are beauty incarnate, Kakavasha." Ratio whispered, "You undermine yourself, your beauty makes even a genius lose their reason." His words were spoken with a voice so steady, so genuine as if he was merely stating a fact he wholeheartedly believed in. It made it hard for Aventurine to refute. He laughed in bewilderment — his voice squeaking in the process — "How can you say such embarrassing things with a straight face…" He mumbled, releasing his hand from Ratio's grip. This time, Ratio allowed it.
He fumbled with the buttons of his pyjamas, hands trembling as he slid his pants down fully. He pointedly avoided eye contact with Ratio, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders; shivering when the cold air hit his body. Ratio cupped his cheeks, then lowered his hands to his chest and wrapped around his waist, caressing every skin he came in contact with. His nose rested on Aventurine's nape, "It's amazing how speechless I constantly am in your presence." He breathed. Aventurine squirmed, Ratio's words were too much and not enough, he felt drunk on the barrage of praises he received; he needed more, yet— "That's enough, Veritas!" He whined, searching for escape from his words in the bath set for him.
Aventurine felt like he was in a daze. The warm bath that enveloped him and Ratio's hands lathering soap on his body made him feel safe. Fatigue crawled under his skin, replacing his initial fear and restlessness. He hummed in content and closed his eyes, feeling Ratio rub his head with shampoo.
"Kakavasha," Ratio began, voice no louder than the water splashing with his every movement, "I know very well how capable you are on your own, but I beg — let me support you." His hands combed through Aventurine's hair; his words hung heavy in the air, making it impossible for Aventurine to dismiss. He opened his eyes and looked at Ratio — for any trace of deceit — even if he knew the doctor wouldn't do that. "We're lovers now, so I hope I can be of some use to you." Droplet of tears dripped down his face before he could even stop it.
"That's so unfair." He choked out, hugging his knees closer, "You always help me and I've never done anything for you. That scares me." He muttered. "Kakavasha, I sincerely doubt I could be anything like the man before you had I not met you." Aventurine stayed quiet, he sniffled and tried to wipe away the tears, replaying Ratio's words in his mind. He couldn't let himself believe. Ratio grabbed the shower head and let the warm water run through his hair.
"I recognize my faults; I am a man of pride with little time for only one individual. I have always been this way. The pursuit of truth, and my position as a professor, makes it hard for me to form interpersonal bonds; I always had my hands full with a multitude of students." He thoroughly rinsed off the soap from Aventurine, "Meeting you is what changed me. Swallowing my ego has never felt so rewarding before. Trusting your plan — trusting you is a decision I pride myself on each day." There was a silence, one that felt too long and suffocating for Aventurine; one that only lasted for five seconds for Ratio turning off the faucet.
He knelt before Aventurine — who was, at present, currently hiding within the bathtub, only letting half his face shown — and smiled, smiled so fondly like Aventurine hung the moon and the sun for him. "Our relationship shouldn't be so transactional, there is nothing I wouldn't do for you and I'd never expect you to repay me with a grand gesture. This is because I love you. There is no rational reason – I’ve long since grown past the need for one." Aventurine lowered his head, watching as his tears drop into the water. He was afraid. Afraid of being loved; of how alien the feeling is, of how unworthy he is. His sobs come out muffled, and he could feel Ratio's hand slowly drawing nearer, to caress his head.
To accept the notion of being loved; to bask in the unfamiliarity of it — he wanted to try, for Ratio. He wanted to stop feeling like an intruder in his own relationship. "We really have to rest now. It's important to get an adequate amount of rest each day." Ratio stood up, grabbing one of his robes for Aventurine.
They left the bath and went into Ratio's room. Aventurine stood in the center of it, taking in Ratio's subtle scent drifting around the room, fiddling with the robe he had on. He felt like he was floating, in a daze, all fight leaving him. "Kakavasha, come here." Ratio said, holding a hairdryer. Aventurine silently complied and made his way to the doctor. "Are you feeling better?" He asked, cupping Aventurine's cheek. "Mm… yeah." He mumbled in response, leaning into his touch.
Ratio had made Aventurine sit on the floor while he worked through getting his hair properly dried. He combed through meticulously, fingers scratching his scalp. Aventurine was happy (happy was undermining what he felt in this moment. No word could describe the thumping of his chest; the way his body turned liquid). He could feel Ratio doting on him, his body drank every affection from the doctor's touches. He leaned back until his head met Ratio's thigh, "I'm tired." Came his quiet request. Ratio smiled and turned off the hairdryer, "Let's go to bed, then."
They shuffled into bed and pulled the covers high. Aventurine snuggled closer to Ratio, still at a distance where he barely touched him; he wanted to drown himself in the other man, yet too scared to. Ratio pulled him closer until his cheeks met his chest. He settled his arm on his lover's waist, then pressed a soft kiss on the top of his head.
It was quiet for a while. Aventurine laid awake, cheeks flushed and eyes droopy — his heart felt full. He's amazed by how affection could render him so much more useless. He tried to fight back against the daze, tried to keep himself focused on the present. He wanted to tell the truth to Ratio even if he already knows — he wants to tell him with his own mouth. Aventurine tilted his head up and softly brushed his fingers along Ratio's jawline.
"The clients I had back then…" He whispered, Ratio hummed in response. "I used to let them do whatever they wanted, to secure our deals." The fingers ghosting along Ratio's face began to tremble; Ratio held them in his grip. "It never mattered what they did. To me, everything is a bargaining chip. Even my body." He said, voice steady, like he was speaking of matters unrelated to him; of a person who didn't bear his name — yet his hands uncontrollably shook. Ratio pulled him closer, rubbing circles on the small of his back, "You are far too precious to reduce yourself to a mere bargaining chip." Ratio said.
"It's hard not to when you've been forced to understand you're less than a used rag your whole life." Aventurine chuckled, "The people who loved me all died, all that was left were the people who only saw me for my use." His voice was eerily calm, and when Ratio looked down, he could barely see his face. He sighed, pulling Aventurine closer to his chest, "It's different now though, isn't it?"
Aventurine went quiet. Accepting his love when he's a far cry from a person who befits Dr. Veritas Ratio — he doesn't know if he could. Yet he'll try. He'll try and try again, because that's the only way he knows to repay the doctor. Aventurine looked up at him; at the man who loves him, and tried to smile, to drown out the voices in his head. "I suppose you're right."
Ratio, finally able to see his face, touched the upturned corner of his mouth. He knew the smile was a struggle to uphold, and it pained him to see. He pressed his lips to Aventurine's forehead, obscuring his own face from view, and whispered: "Kakavasha, when I die, the flowers on my grave shall sing your name." Soft like a prayer, he continued, "Until my death and whatever comes after, you will always be loved."
Aventurine whimpered. It was too much – too overwhelming. His heart thumped louder snd faster, and the corner of his eyes burned. He was glad the doctor couldn't see his face; he doesn't know what sort of ugly expression he's making. He wrapped his arms around Ratio and hugged him tighter, "Have I ever told you how corny you are, doc?" He muttered into his chest, "Yes. All the time." Ratio smiled and closed his eyes. "Now go to sleep, another mundane day awaits us."
Aventurine stared at his lover's peaceful face before deciding to close his eyes as well. Sleep will consume him, and another dream to accompany; yet he found himself a little more at ease. His hands held on tight to the front of Ratio's robes, keeping him grounded; the scent of his lover's shampoo and soap clung to his body; he couldn't feel more at home than he did now. Ratio's words acted as a blanket over his frame, and it held its breath with him, awaiting the arrival of another mundane day.
"Veritas, thank you." He whispered, "I love you." Another confession delivered, with only the inanimate objects of his lover's room as witnesses.