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Aventurine leaned against his front door and groaned. Any day he spent cooped up in the central Pier Point offices was a day he was doomed to come home tired, headachey, and possibly nauseous from not eating enough. He’d spent this particular day delivering and reviewing physical documents too sensitive to expose to hackers, listening to a never-ending series of presentations on faltering investments he might find liquidation potential in, balancing some of the more traditional investment accounts he managed so he could maintain specific capital accounts he liked using for his projects, and sharing one short and tense lunch with Pearl. He’d barely managed to finish a sandwich from the cafeteria before she was dumping even more digital paperwork on him to finish by end of day. No wonder it felt like his bones were complaining.
Part of him wanted to just slide down and curl up on the floor, stick his head on his knees and not move for an hour. But his stomach was twisting, and the good headache medicine would work better with some solid food in him. He could use some water, too, dehydration would probably be the last straw before he was really in danger of throwing up. He’d never figured out why his body worked like that, trying to dump out all its resources when it already didn’t have enough, but like hell was he going to ask a doctor about it when he could just make sure to eat and drink something.
He pushed off the door, dragging the heels of his flashy loafers across the wood and tile as he went. He didn’t need anything fancy right now, just good and solid. Rice from the staples cabinet, rice cooker from the appliance cupboard, water from the sink. Portion out enough for four, wash it, add the first sauce he could get his hands on. Just a couple button presses and he could slink around to the stools by the counter island, another cup of water in hand, so he could sip slowly while he waited.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Aventurine smiled into his water cup. His cat cakes almost always knew when he’d gotten home. He wasn’t sure if it was the sound, or if he was shaking the walls when he shut the front door, or if they could smell him before the other senses kicked in. But even if they were all upstairs, they knew, and that was enough.
Normally Aventurine would have gone and helped them down the stairs. Today, though, he didn’t feel like moving now that he was sitting down. He barely even wanted to keep lifting his cup to his mouth after everything, and that was a lot more important after… he didn’t even want to think about how many hours he’d spent forgetting to drink. His smile faltered as he caught his dim reflection in the surface of his water - at this odd angle, with the kitchen lights just behind him, he looked unhealthily pale. He’d need a real mirror to check if he was starting to get circles under his eyes again. He shouldn’t, not after just one hard day, but he wasn’t exactly coming off a restful weekend either.
His pets would forgive him for making them take the stairs on their own. Aventurine leaned back against the island, shut his eyes, and focused on listening to their little bodies hitting each step on the way down. No more thinking about the workday. No more thinking about the food and water and rest he didn’t have. He was home now, on his own time, and it was okay to leave that stuff in the office. Otherwise what was the point of ever leaving?
Aventurine opened his eyes again when he felt one of the cat cakes butting against his feet. “Hi, babies,” he sighed, gently pushing Bun out of the way so he could slide onto the floor. “I’m home. Had a good day?”
He set his water cup on the floor and opened his arms, letting the animals crowd against him. Bun did their best to burrow into the spade cutout on his shirt; Maple pressed into his stomach, already trying to knead it to show that they, too, were hungry; River leaned into his hand for easy pets; and Aventurine smiled, weary but true, because now he felt like he was home. Home could be three fuzzy little babies more than the physical space, because he didn’t love the space he lived in. Seven years and it only mostly felt like his. But these little critters? He could love them with every corner of his heart and never fear being hurt. And he loved them so much, and they loved him back. It was so simple, so pure. Unconditional love like he hadn’t felt in so long. It felt stupid to ask if he’d die for his cats, but so far he’d sure stayed alive for them.
“Yeah, I know, I’ve got food going,” Aventurine said after Maple pressed down especially hard. “You didn’t get into the trash again, did you? Maybe you can eat that stuff, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.”
Maple stopped kneading at his stomach, and Aventurine narrowed his eyes. “Maple,” he said, tone warning. “Did you get into the trash today?”
The rescued experiment whined, and even with Bun between them, Aventurine could see Maple looking away. He sighed. “Maple. And you’re putting your paws on me? Maple Sugar Cake. You’re getting a bath after the rice is done.”
River licked at Aventurine’s wrist, and he scratched their head gently. “Yeah, I know. I’m gonna be using the sink down here. You don’t wanna get wet, go sit in a different one. All the bathrooms are still open.”
Bun finally got their head slotted more or less into the spade, and Aventurine laughed at the sandpaper feeling of their tongue on his chest. “You’re hungry too, huh? Hope you didn’t go eating trash.” They sneezed, almost, something he’d long learned was Bun’s version of a firm negative. “Glad you’re smart today. You can be spared a bath.”
It was so nice to lie on the tile floor and chat with his animals. They never judged him for getting down on their level; he never had to explain how he used to live, often without solid furniture he could use. Lying on the floor always brought him back to his childhood in the desert more than his time as a slave - it was a sweet, golden memory, like the honey the Avgins were named for. When he couldn’t handle anything else, he could handle the floor, and when he could handle more complex parts of reality it left him happy, like someone put a little hat on his soul. Like he could see the beautiful things life normally reserved for when he was drunk, without any of the problems except for other people thinking it was weird for a high-powered executive to put himself on the ground.
Before long, the rice cooker let out a musical little chime to say their food was done. Aventurine moved slowly from where he’d laid down on his side, first pushing himself onto his knees, then pulling himself up onto his feet with one of the stools. Bun and Maple crowded around his feet as he walked around the island. “Yeah, you know that sound, huh?” he asked as he turned the corner. “Snacks are ready. I’ll make sure there’s a bigger dinner later. Kinda thinking I might order something, though. I think we need more synthesizer packets.”
As he was reaching for the cabinet with their bowls, though, he heard a splash. Aventurine looked back, down at the floor, and sighed. Somehow there was water spreading out past the island. His water, the water he’d put down to say hi to everyone. “Gimme a second,” he muttered, grabbing the bowls down. “I’ll clean that up.”
Maple and Bun stayed clustered by the rice cooker, tails swishing in anticipation, as Aventurine moved to the drawer with spare kitchen towels. One in hand, he walked over and draped it over the puddle, eyes on River. Maybe the cat cake felt guilty about knocking the cup over, which had rolled to a stop by a stool, but they were clearly more focused on sitting still. Some of the water had splashed onto their paws and outer shell - and for an animal that loved to sit in sinks so much, River hated getting wet.
“It’s alright,” Aventurine said, feeling very much like a tired parent to three feline children. “I’m not mad about the water. It’s not a bad mess. I can get a new cup and it’s fine.”
Normally River responded to even the tiniest accidental wetness by screaming their fuzzy little head off at him, as if he could fix it completely. Today, though, they just scooted back from the puddle and padded slowly to the spot by the floor-to-ceiling window into the pool they often sat at when given human food to eat. He watched as they settled down, rocking side to side a little as they tried to find a position that didn’t put weight on their wet fur. Their tail curled tight against their body, somewhere between a scarf and a noose. All of it reminded Aventurine of the times he’d worn uncomfortable new clothes and especially brand-new shoes to formal events, trying not to show how weird, wrong, or painful things felt.
He walked back to the drawer of towels and picked a fresh one out. “I’m not making you sit in that,” he said as he crossed back over and knelt down. “Gimme your paws. I can at least dry them a little.”
River looked up at him with those big orange eyes and slowly held their paws up. Aventurine slipped the towel under them, gently rubbing along the grain of their fur. “Thank you for not getting fussy,” he murmured at them. “I know you hate being wet. I know this isn’t perfect. But it’s gonna be nicer to have something to eat just being damp instead. You can do that, right?”
They meowed at him, quiet and almost inquisitive. But their tail flicked out, and he could feel them flex their paws against the towel. “Here, then,” he said, pulling back and folding the towel with the damp parts down. “Scoot a little and you can sit on this.” He set their paws down, and River scooched back, letting him set the towel down like a little mat before climbing back on. Their tail loosened as they settled in, and Aventurine stood back up, ignoring the way one knee cracked.
He was happy to still have his shoes on as he came back to the rice cooker, because he was definitely still tracking a little water around the tile floor. Bun left their post under the food-bearing machine when Aventurine stopped at the sink, whining as he turned it on. “I know, I know,” he said, taking off his rings and gloves, “but I don’t feel like eating anyone’s fur. Maybe you can handle that, but I can’t. Gimme two minutes to wash up. None of us are gonna die in the meantime.”
His stomach did twist again, though, while he washed his hands. And he still had that dull headache, the one that felt like it spread down through other bones. Enough was enough, though - once he’d washed and dried, he scooted Maple out of the way and started fluffing the rice to serve. “Looks about right,” he muttered, making sure the sauce was more or less distributed. “What did I grab, soy? Hope so.” He picked up the first bowl and started scooping the rice in, eyeballing exactly how much counted as a quarter of the whole.
Once all the bowls were filled, Aventurine grabbed one in each hand and dragged his feet backwards. Maple and Bun stuck to him like glue as he carefully shuffled over to the side of the island, setting their bowls down near the stool he planned to sit on. With two fingers on his left hand, Aventurine carefully picked up the spilled cup and walked back to the sink, leaving it for later before selecting a new one he could fill from the tap. Then, he grabbed River’s bowl and quickly walked over, depositing it in front of them; finally, he grabbed his own bowl and cup, set them at his spot on the island, returned for a napkin and fork, and at long last, Aventurine sat down for his after-work snack.
His fuzzy babies always waited for Aventurine to take his first bite before they started eating. He wasn’t sure where the habit came from; they sure hadn’t waited when Topaz first dropped them off, all three diving for anything they perceived as food on sight. But nowadays they would sit and watch until his spoon or fork passed his lips, and only then would they fall on their bowls of food like the ravenous little monsters they were. Aventurine would worry about having to clean the kitchen after every meal if they weren’t so determined to eat every little scrap they found on the floor.
Aventurine ate more slowly, though. He took it one forkful of rice at a time, chewing thoroughly before he swallowed, with sips of water in between. He didn’t want to make himself sick just because he got a little impatient, and he still needed to grab the good headache medicine after. Feeling less weary to the bone was nice and all, but a few kitty kisses couldn’t fix his blood pressure or whatever was behind the pain.
Still, though. As Aventurine worked through his rice, looking absently out the window, he had to admit to himself that Jade had a point all those years ago. The idea of putting a huge pane of glass into a pool, where a single fault could flood his home, still felt like needless extravagance - but he could appreciate it now. Watching the way light cut through the shifting water, dancing on the black marble flooring, lighting up the gold trim running around the inner edge… this wasn’t something he ever would have gotten to do on Sigonia, even in the non-desert areas. It was such a passive thing, something to look at that didn’t take up his mind at all, but it wasn’t boring; it more felt like taking a piece of his brain out of his skull, rotating it, putting it in the water and letting it float without him. Like one of those hollowed-out days made good instead of awful. He could check out and not come back until the food was done, and no one was around to stop him.
It was another reason not to eat at the dark wooden table, the one meant for formal meals. Aventurine didn’t like having that many empty seats around him. Three empty stools was bad enough; off and on, he’d considered taking some of them away, stuffing them in a corner with the cat toys, but the island would look wrong with only two stools and space for more. The big table had seats for ten, each elaborately hand-carved, in case by some dark miracle he ever had to host his entire division. He’d thought about replacing that table with something smaller, maybe two tables in a pinch, but he had a sneaking suspicion Jade wouldn’t take that well - and she invited him to invite her over just often enough that keeping a more formal meeting space than his living room still felt prudent.
His fork scraped the bottom of the bowl, and Aventurine glanced down. He wasn’t out of food yet, but the clumps of rice were definitely running low. Maybe sometimes it was better to focus a little on his food - grains had fallen off and scattered across the counter, sticky with sauce, sure to be annoying to clean off. Oh, well. Maybe he’d let Bun up on the counter for a minute later, as the only cat who hadn’t caused problems today.
Aventurine looked down at River again and sighed. He could still see them kneading at the towel they sat on, trying to dry their fur as they finished their food. It didn’t feel fair to lump the spilled water in with Maple’s garbage-eating - knocking the cup over was an accident, and they were trying so hard not to fuss about their least favorite thing. Was it right to call that bravery? Topaz would say River was being brave about this. A cat soldiering on despite being wet wasn’t what he pictured next to bravery in the dictionary, but maybe it counted. Whatever you’d call it, he could still be grateful; he really didn’t feel like dealing with a cat acting like the world was ending, and the last thing he wanted was to snap at one of his babies for having preferences. Not like he enjoyed walking around wet either.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Aventurine fished it out left-handed, sticking more rice in his mouth as he turned it on. Topaz texting within an hour of the business day’s end could mean a lot of things, but when he tapped on the notification, he had to smile a little.
I’ve been doing more research on new critters for the ship and found some of the most gorgeous little things I’ve seen in a while. Look at these!
Attached was a picture of two vaguely chicken-shaped birds, each barely larger than one of his hands judging by the nesting boxes behind them. The feathered tails were long, like they were supposed to curl around the eggs or something, and the red fleshy bits around the face looked more structured and stiff than he thought chickens usually had; but they had gorgeous oilslick-shiny feathers, short and almost shimmery, even in a still image. As he leaned in a little to inspect closer, another message popped up.
They’re called kieliens, kind of like chickens if they remembered they were dinosaurs more often. People here on Selis-3 keep them as livestock, because the eggs are really small but they come in big clutches, and once they learn their owner’s scent they’re pretty friendly. They’re also great for controlling any of the lizard pests that like cropping up. The downside is they live for such little time, usually three or four years, and I’d hate to carve out a niche for them just to leave it empty again.
So I need to think about that some more before I commit to anything. No hasty acquisitions here, no matter how cute they are.
Topaz had been investigating Selis-3 for a good two weeks now. The planet wasn’t deep enough in debt to offer a full acquisition deal, but they had ample resources that they weren’t leveraging well; the pre-visit plan was to turn the place into an agricultural center with pockets of extraction for everything from lumber to livestock. Unfortunately, the locals had built cities all over their nice fertile soil and weren’t keen on demolishing them to make way for more farms. It was the kind of negotiation Topaz excelled at - if anyone could find a way to maximize the assets while making friends with the people who would be working them, it was her.
Aventurine stuck another forkful of rice in his mouth before tapping out his response.
Once they learn your scent, huh? Sounds like you might be best off raising them from the egg. Do they hatch year round? You could probably find someone willing to sell babies.
He ignored the auto-responder in favor of grabbing one more bite while he waited for the real reply. He never had to wait long when animals were concerned.
Mostly in spring and fall, but technically they’re year-round, yeah. They’re always laying eggs, it’s just a question of when they actually mate.
How are your cat cakes doing? Any fun adventures around the apartment?
He sighed and dropped his fork into his more-or-less empty bowl.
Maple got in the trash today, is the biggest news. I haven’t figured out which can yet, but they sure looked guilty when I asked.
Aside from the impending bath after snacktime, though, nothing new. Thinking they could all use some fresh air, but they’re learning how to move the cover off the hot tub, so I need to solve that first.
The cat cakes were smart enough to stay away from the pool, but Aventurine wouldn’t put it past them to get so focused on uncovering something they’d fall right in once it was open. He wasn’t sure they knew the hot tub was full of water. And the thought of one of his babies potentially drowning scared him way too much to risk anything.
What about adding some corner weights? Ones that’d be hard to push off, especially without you hearing them. You can just stack them somewhere else when you want to use it.
Yeah, that might work. Thanks for the idea.
I do my best. Anyways, how’s the office? I hear another round of presentations started yesterday.
Aventurine’s mind wandered as he complained in business words about the investment presentations. Aside from bathing Maple and getting a real dinner, he didn’t really have any plans for the rest of the evening. Sure, he’d spend some of it tidying up his working life a little more, but he could spend more of that time getting some rest in. He could definitely use a little relaxation time to ease the headache - it had dulled some, and he should really get up and grab that medicine, but now that he’d brought the hot tub up to Topaz, spending some time chest-deep in hot water sounded wonderful. Maybe he’d turn the jets on, let them work out some of the tension in his muscles. And there was nothing stopping him from bringing some music out on the balcony with him, as long as the volume was reasonable… not that any downstairs neighbors would really complain about the great and powerful Aventurine of Stratagems being a little noisy for a while. Still, he didn’t need to go around upsetting anyone who wanted some peace and quiet.
It was hard to think about soaking in hot water without thinking about Ratio, though. It was like trying to think about dusty old books, or lecture podiums, or chalk. No matter why he was trying to think about those things, Ratio was always right there too, shaking his head at him. Aventurine couldn’t very well invite Ratio from another planet to get in a hot tub together - and trying to imagine that almost made him type several wrong words into Topaz’s messages - but that didn’t mean he couldn’t send something. Some quick pleasantries. Or maybe…
He looked to the side again, and sure enough, River was still sitting on the towel trying to dry off; their rice all gone, they could focus more on rubbing against the fabric. Aventurine took a quick picture, zooming in to focus on the cat cake with the pool window behind them, and loaded it into Ratio’s messages.
Poor thing spilled some water before snacktime. They’ve been trying to dry off ever since. It’s impressive how much they’re not having a fit about it, though, normally they start screaming as soon as they get wet.
Ratio’s evening schedule depended entirely on what he was researching at the moment, and how it fit into his academic life. Sometimes he was running lab experiments; sometimes he was grading assignments; sometimes he was deep in his books, keeping sharp notes on what other people did and wrote down. Aventurine couldn’t expect a response to a random non-work message with any real priority, no matter how badly he wanted his doctor to notice immediately and put things down to chat. So to keep himself from going insane, he got up and finally went hunting for the good headache medicine in the kitchen medicine cabinet - because why only keep the common-use drugs buried in his bathroom upstairs? He had the money to keep spare bottles of the most basic stuff scattered around in four or five different places, he just had to check every once in a while to make sure it was all in date.
He shook pills out of the bottle there at the counter, put the medicine back away, and returned to the island to get his water to take the medicine. His phone buzzed as he did, and Aventurine picked it up, turned it on, and smiled. Ratio had seen it quickly after all.
This is River, correct? The one who enjoys sinks?
Oh, how cute. Ratio was actually trying to keep track of his babies. Aventurine tried not to think about how much his heart squeezed at the thought.
Bingo. Loves sinks, hates getting wet. Clearly still hates it this time, too, they’re just taking it more calmly.
Ratio’s response this time was almost immediate.
I see. It’s good you provided a towel. Their main body temperature can go down quickly, given water’s high specific heat. Their outer shell is likely more resilient, as a protective structure.
Another fancy science term Aventurine didn’t know. It used to annoy him when it felt like Ratio should come packaged with a personal dictionary; now it made him feel like Ratio thought he was smart enough to figure things out. He always wanted to ask Ratio what the words meant, but his dear doctor was always committed to making people look things up themselves. Maybe he’d have to do it this time, if this ‘specific heat’ thing could affect his pets that much. But more importantly - there was an opportunity to tease Ratio here.
Oh? Has the doctor become an expert on cat cakes now, too? I thought you were studying the Swarm these days.
I have been. That doesn’t stop me from doing some brief research into other things when I have questions to answer. Collating data on Ruan Mei’s creations is simple enough during my trips to Herta Station.
A place you’re well-known for darkening the doors of. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to keep up with me and my pets.
There was a pause before Ratio started typing again.
There would be nothing preventing me from spending my time on such a pursuit. Unless it pushes the boundaries of your permission for me to consider you.
Aventurine’s mind went blank. Utter white numbness as he stared at those words. It wasn’t a denial, but it was definitely careful. Ratio wasn’t the sort to waffle on simple factual truths without reason. But he’d kind of forgotten that he’d given Ratio permission to think about him. Consider him, as the doctor kept putting it. He might’ve been breathing faster thinking about Ratio thinking about him even when they weren’t together. Was that a good thing? Was it a problem? And the ending - was Ratio that concerned with Aventurine’s feelings about it?
Something tapped the top of his foot and Aventurine jumped, eyes swinging down. River looked up at him, meowed softly, patted him again with one outstretched paw. Aventurine knelt, running his free hand over River’s shell, tried to focus on his cat. Tried to focus on them meowing again, scooting closer, nuzzling against his ankle. Tried to focus on the texture of their shell and not the deafening sound of his own breathing, the way he couldn’t feel his ears anymore, the tremble in his muscles when he thought about Ratio getting… invested. Ratio getting invested in Aventurine’s thoughts and feelings, how he felt about Ratio doing things. He could handle thinking about it like an investment, something with a value going up or down. Something you could manipulate and bet on if you understood it well enough. He could let Ratio bet on him, on his feelings. He could handle that.
Aventurine kept his focus on petting River until he could hear Maple climbing the cat tree again, and his legs weren’t shaking, and he could feel most of his head. He dropped his hand to carefully scratch between their ears, around to the back of their head, following the way River leaned into things. When he thought he could handle it again, he stood up and sat on the stool, letting the cat cake sit on his feet the way Bun liked to do, but more still. He couldn’t afford to leave Ratio waiting too long - it had already been too long, actually. He had to say something back. Anything.
You can research the cat cakes if you want to. Let me know if you find anything especially interesting, will you?
There. Totally normal. He didn’t need to think about how many minutes Ratio had been waiting for a simple yes or no. He didn’t need to think about Ratio tapping his finger against his desk or his cheek waiting to find out if Aventurine didn’t like something. He didn’t need to think about Ratio tacitly offering to shape his research plans around Aventurine’s comfort. He didn’t need to think about it. At all.
His phone buzzed in his hand, and Aventurine took a deep breath before checking it again.
Understood. I’ll pass along any new information I think you ought to know.
Any other day Aventurine would have said something else, changed the subject and kept talking as long as he could get away with. Today he’d let Ratio’s schedule win. He didn’t need to keep responding when he was still so off-guard. There could be other days for pestering his doctor as a way to spend time together. For now, he could back off and focus on himself again.
Still, though. As Aventurine looked into the living room, spying Bun tucked underneath the couch, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if Ratio were here in person. If he’d come home and Ratio was on the lounge, the little end table stacked high with books and papers, catching up on his subjects of interest. Aventurine could have gone and sat nearby, maybe gotten a hug or something, maybe just sat and sighed and complained for a while. Maybe Ratio would have put together snacks while Aventurine laid on the floor with the cat cakes, and the snacks could be something better than bowls of dubiously-sauced rice. (It had been soy in the end, but Aventurine could totally have grabbed something else on accident. That probably would have sucked.) Maybe Ratio would have fetched the good headache medicine, or done some other doctor trick to make things feel better. Maybe they could have come back and cuddled on the couch, not that he’d actually cuddled with Ratio before, but it was really tempting to just lean on him and stay there sometimes. Maybe Ratio would have kept an arm around him, or maybe he’d rest his hand on Aventurine’s back until it felt like it would burn through to his skin, or maybe…
Aventurine shook his head at the thought of Ratio pulling him any closer. He didn’t need to think about that right after the conversation they just had. If he thought about stuff like that, he’d want it even more, and it was already hard enough to avoid opening his mouth and asking Ratio to please crush his face against his chest until Aventurine passed out from lack of oxygen. It hadn’t been long since that Swarm pheromone incident, and Aventurine was pretty sure he’d never fully get over it, like he was on a cliff crumbling out from underneath him faster and faster. Sure, he wasn’t being driven crazy by hallucinogens or anything, but anyone into men had to admit Ratio was to die for, right? And losing the chemical shine only made reality look all the better.
Bathing Maple could wait. Aventurine very deliberately did not fantasize as he went up the stairs to change into a bathing suit for the hot tub. He didn’t think about Ratio doing the same thing, didn’t wonder what kind of style Ratio would choose. He didn’t think about Ratio treating the hot tub like one of his extra-long baths and staying out there until dark, only coming inside when it was time for food again. He didn’t think about Ratio drying off and getting into a robe for dinner so he could shower clean when they were done. He didn’t think about Ratio keeping all those things in Aventurine’s apartment like it was another home.
Aventurine very definitely did not think about Ratio treating this apartment like home.
He didn’t. He did not.
And no one could prove it if he did.