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Romance is a strange thing. It’s both a noun and a verb. A story can be classified as a romance. A person can romance someone else. Aventurine was familiar enough with the noun. He sometimes heard people casually mention their partners when a conversation idled. He was aware of the many stories that spun vivid tales, he’d seen several movies wherein the main characters met and fell in love. These were marketed as “romantic,” and described as such by fans, and perhaps this was subjective. Aventurine didn’t have any personal anecdotes to compare to these stories, and had a hard time imagining himself in one of his own, the way people often like to do with their favorite works of fiction. The progression of his life thus far hadn’t included any so-called “true love” or unforgettable whirlwind romance. Aventurine usually watched romantic comedies when he was sad or bored. They were full of silly and unrealistic tropes— the main leads meeting accidentally and hitting it off, love at first sight, and misunderstandings that add conflict to the plots. They had moments meant to frustrate the audience into rooting for a happy ending— side glances when the other person isn’t looking, hands brushing together while walking side by side, momentous first kisses in the middle of a rainstorm or desperate, last minute declarations of love. These movies were formulated to make the audience smile and laugh and feel good, and they weren’t terrible at achieving this. Aventurine found them amusing, at least.
Sometimes, he thought more about the verb. He might like to be romanced. To be swept off his feet, but not treated like he was weak or helpless. To be desired, but not to be taken advantage of. To experience a love so soft that he could finally understand those characters in the books and movies instead of poking fun at them. Sometimes, he would watch a movie that truly made him wonder what it was like. He wondered if he could recognize genuine romantic advances if they were ever offered to him, or if he would be oblivious to even the most blatant flirtation. Sometimes, he felt curiosity towards the gestures the characters made. He wondered what was so nice about holding someone’s hand, what being kissed felt like, and whether or not he’d like to receive a cliche gift like flowers or candy. Sometimes, he let his mind get away with daydreaming about these things. But only sometimes. Other times, the appeal seemed to just miss him, brushing past and as impossible to catch as the wind. Other times, juvenile though it felt, he thought he’d hate holding someone’s hand, or that a movie kiss looked more uncomfortable than pleasant. He wasn’t naive enough to think things worked like that in real life. At least, not his life. He was far too cynical, constantly having to be wary of any new person he let into his life. Often, when he tried to imagine himself as a part of a romantic relationship, the other person was always blurry, as if his brain couldn’t conjure up a face to complete the fantasy. He guessed it wasn’t much of a surprise. Every single face in the catalog of Aventurine’s memory was there for a reason. Forgetting one wasn’t certain to be deadly, but it could be, so he never forgot any. He categorized them, and could mentally shuffle through them at will like paperwork in a filing cabinet. They were labeled things like “distrust,” “avoid,” “respect,” “remember,” and none of them qualified for use in that silly little daydream. Well, almost none of them.
He’d be lying to himself if he said he’d never entertained the thought of being romanced by his best friend. Aventurine was anything but an expert on authentic human connection, but friendship and romance always felt like they were on opposite ends of a spectrum, like there was an invisible but explicit line between the two concepts. But this didn't apply to him and Ratio. The invisible line oscillated— it could be placed wherever they wanted it to be, and they never ran the risk of overstepping it. He always found himself lounging around at Ratio’s home after work, eager to have the doctor talk his ear off rather than being alone in his own apartment. He could rest his legs atop Ratio’s when they sat together, and allow himself to doze off and show vulnerability without fear of danger or betrayal. If his brain categorized others’ faces in all those different ways, it filed Ratio’s under “safe.” If he dared to picture Ratio in the place of the blurry figure in his daydream, it felt natural, like the doctor’s presence there made perfect sense. He liked— or, at least, was amused by— the idea of him and Ratio recreating those stupid, sappy tropes from the movies.
The living room was quiet save for the sound of the TV, its screen displaying some reality show and volume turned almost all the way down. Aventurine lay on the couch, his legs idly dangling off its arm. The top of his head rested just barely against the side of Ratio’s thigh. He scrolled slowly across his social media timeline, mostly out of boredom and not stopping to read through each post. After several minutes, one caught his eye and he paused to study it. It was a picture of someone whom he very vaguely recognized as an employee who worked in the Technology Department of the IPC. She was smiling widely, or perhaps in the middle of a laugh. Her hand was outstretched towards the camera, and a gold ring set with a blue gem rested on one of her fingers. A woman— her new fiancee, it seemed— was kissing her cheek, arms securely wrapped around her. Aventurine skimmed the caption, an overly long block of text about shared love and precious memories, and stared at the photo for a moment longer before swiping through the rest. Each was more picturesque than the next. These hadn’t been taken on Pier Point; they’d probably gone to a nearby planet for the event. Aventurine let out a soft “hm,” barely audible.
“Are you alright?” Ratio asked, speaking for the first time since they’d sat down earlier this evening. Aventurine lifted his phone to show Ratio the post, craning his neck back to observe his reaction upside down.
“Someone from Tech got engaged.” Ratio stared at the post over the rims of his eyeglasses, a mannerism that always charmed Aventurine. He took a small sip of tea from the mug in his hand, set it on the coffee table, and scrolled through a few of the pictures before responding.
“I believe I met them once in passing— that’s quite exciting.” Aventurine lowered his phone, turned it off and tossed it aside, staring at the ceiling.
“That must be nice,” he said quietly.
“What must be? Getting engaged?” Aventurine sat up and folded his legs to his chest.
“No, just… Being with someone. I guess.”
“Oh?” Ratio said, clearly gearing up to tease. “So you’re putting yourself out there, then?” Aventurine resisted the urge to shove him.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know if you’re aware, doc, but I don’t exactly trust people.” Ratio gazed at him. “It’s hard to picture myself going out to dinner with any old stranger, let alone being affectionate.”
“But you do… want to be with someone. In a romantic context.” There was that word again.
“Sometimes I do. Most of the time, I think I’d hate it. I’ve never even been on a date before.” These words didn’t come out sounding as flippant and nonchalant as Aventurine would have liked. Ratio must have heard the subtle change, because his eyebrows furrowed together enough to form a small crease between them.
“That’s normal. And it doesn’t matter much.” Aventurine hummed.
“At least I can pointlessly say I’ve watched a million movies about it.”
“What movies?”
“Movies of the romantic comedy genre,” he said through gritted teeth. He watched Ratio valiantly suppress a snarky comment and switch to strained politeness.
“Movies aren’t a reliable guide.” Aventurine rolled his eyes.
“I know that. I’m just curious. I know it’s an unrealistic waste of time to want those things.”
“That’s a little pessimistic. Unless you have any truly unhinged desires, I doubt the things you want are as far out of reach as you think.” Ratio squinted at him. “Do you have any of those that you’ve never told me about?” Aventurine scoffed.
“If I ever happen to discover that I have any weird kinks, you’ll be the first to know.” Aventurine stared intensely at Ratio. “Doc.”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you for a favor?”
“Based on what we were just talking about, I have no idea where you could possibly be going with this.”
“Nothing sexual, I promise.”
“That… doesn’t narrow anything down. What is it?”
“It’s a weird request. I’m expecting a hard ‘no.’”
“Gambler, I would do virtually anything for you. Just ask.” Aventurine sighed.
“Would you be willing to kiss me?” Ratio’s expression went blank.
“…What?”
“What?” Aventurine replied. “We could at least try it, couldn’t we?”
“What? Kissing?”
“Where did I lose you?”
“Gambler. Dear gambler. Just to clarify. You are saying you want me to kiss you.”
“Yes, doc,” Aventurine said, as if that wasn’t an absurd request. Ratio just stared at him for several seconds, and Aventurine could practically see the cogs in that brain of his working overtime. “You can turn me down, Ratio, it won’t kill me to be rejected. I wouldn’t dream of trying to pressure you into—”
“It’s nothing like that,” Ratio interrupted. “I suppose I just have to wonder why. Is there a reason behind this?” Aventurine wasn’t about to say flat out that he’d imagined it several times in the past and eventually realized he enjoyed the idea. But he could do the next best thing: making the words sound disingenuous to soften their impact.
“I don’t know. I’ve always wondered what it’s like, and I can’t think of anyone I’d wanna kiss over you.” Ratio blinked. Aventurine replayed the sentence in his brain. Okay. Okay, that didn’t sound at all how I wanted it to.
“Gambler, you…” Ratio paused to pull his glasses off his face and let them hang by the chain around his neck, covering his eyes with one hand for a moment. Aventurine could see that his ears were turning red.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, hold on, you can’t just retract a statement like that.”
“Let me explain,” Aventurine said. “You’re my friend. I care about you. I’m comfortable with you. I think it’d be nice.”
“Hm.”
“Like I said, I’m curious. That may sound stupid—”
“It doesn’t.”
“—But it’s how I feel. And I’m not saying this because I see you as a convenient option. I’ve thought about it before.” No point in avoiding the topic now.
“Have you.”
“Let’s be real here, Ratio. I don’t think it’s uncommon for people to want to kiss you. Among other things.” Ratio made a face, then stared up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Aventurine.
“Alright, why not.”
“Seriously?” Ratio laughed.
“You proposed the idea, and now you don’t sound certain.”
“Are you certain?”
“I see no reason to say no.”
“Wow,” Aventurine said. “That’s nice of you.”
“Don’t speak too soon. There’s always a chance you hate it and it puts you off the topic forever.”
“Are you that bad at kissing?”
“Well, it’s been a while, but I’d like to think I’m good enough at it. It’s just that I’m working with an absolute beginner here, and may have my work cut out for me.”
“You have such a way with words, doctor.”
“Did you just want to jump right into it?” Ratio asked bluntly. “Perhaps some trial and error?”
“Up to you, my friend. Absolute beginner, remember?”
“This is so…” Ratio trailed off and started again. “Move closer.” Aventurine shifted on the couch and assumed a comfortable position directly next to him.
“Hi, there,” he said. Ratio gently took hold of Aventurine’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Uh—”
“I’m setting the mood,” Ratio muttered. With this, he pressed a gentle kiss to Aventurine’s fingers, and another, and another. A visible chill wracked Aventurine’s body, and Ratio paused to glance up at him.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“I don’t mind it,” Aventurine managed to say. A small laugh paired with two more chaste kisses, and Ratio let go.
“Where would you like me to place my hands?” Ratio asked. “Hands are optional, of course.” Aventurine grabbed one of Ratio’s wrists and guided it to his waist. The other he set against his cheek.
“Right there.” Aventurine slid his own hands up and rested them on Ratio’s shoulders.
“Relax, dear gambler. You’re so tense it’s like you’ve never so much as hugged me before.”
“Cut me some slack.”
“This was your idea.”
“I feel so self-conscious.” Aventurine said. “Should I—” Ratio pushed a lock of Aventurine’s hair back.
“I promise, you’re fine. At a certain point, kissing is less about technicality and more about… feeling.”
“Noted.”
“When you’re ready, close your eyes.” Aventurine did so, then opened one eye again no more than five seconds later. Ratio, who hadn’t moved a muscle, gave him a disapproving look.
“I knew you were going to do that.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Aventurine laughed. “Won’t happen again.”
“I’ll wait three seconds. When you want me to stop, don’t hesitate to pull away.” Aventurine nodded. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling like his pounding heart was clearly audible. In his head, he counted down. Three. Two. One. A soft pair of lips pressed against his own, and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter for a split second. The hand on his waist slid around to his back, putting him in a half-embrace. Aventurine could feel that Ratio’s head was angled to one side, the tip of his nose brushing against his cheek. Cautiously, he dared to reciprocate, letting his jaw relax and pursing his lips slightly. It was a pleasant sensation, but he couldn’t think of anything to compare it to. Honestly, he couldn’t think very coherent thoughts at all. The only thing his brain could come up with as Ratio kissed him was ‘Oh. So this is what it feels like.’ Aventurine inhaled through his nose and slowly drew back. He opened his eyes and watched Ratio’s slowly flutter open. They both immediately broke into quiet laughter. Aventurine leaned forward to rest his forehead on Ratio’s shoulder.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had this response after kissing someone,” Ratio said. Aventurine caught his breath and sat up again.
“That was really nice, doc. I liked it.”
“I’m glad.”
“It felt like— I don’t know. But it was good. You have soft lips.”
“Thank you. I try.” Aventurine brushed his fingertips over his own lips, still feeling the ghost of their prior contact. “Gambler?”
“Hm.”
“Was it anything like your movies?” Aventurine tossed him a suspicious look, and Ratio rushed to clarify. “I’m not mocking you— that was a genuine question.”
“Now that I think about it, I guess it was. Maybe not as… intense…” An image of he and Ratio kissing with much more intensity flashed across his mind’s eye, and he swallowed, shaking his head briefly to banish it to the far recesses of his brain. Whether it was an unwanted or welcome image, he wasn’t sure. Aventurine touched the back of his hand to his warm face. “Aeons, I’m blushing. You’re making me blush, doctor.”
“I think that’s your own imagination getting away from you.”
“You don’t know what’s going on in my head.”
“Oh, I think I do. Call it an educated guess.” The amused look on Ratio’s face said he absolutely knew what was going on in Aventurine’s head. “But I understand. Curiosity, right?”
“Would it sound better if I said it’s for research? You like research.”
“Gambler, I’m not judging you.”
“Oh. Good.” They stared at each other until Ratio raised an eyebrow.
“So you aren’t going to ask?”
“Ask… what?”
“To continue. Unless my guess was wrong.” Aventurine struggled to find his next words, though he certainly wasn’t going to object.
“Don’t feel obligated to—”
“I have my boundaries. If I truly didn’t want to do something, I would tell you.” Ratio’s bluntness was refreshing, if not a little jarring.
“Is this not unusual?”
“Why does that matter?” Right. Aventurine had forgotten he was talking to someone who couldn’t care less about being perceived as unusual.
“Because we’re…” He made a vague gesture with his wrist, and Ratio seemed to understand.
“I don’t think this has the ability to ruin what we have, dear gambler. They’re just kisses.” Aventurine shrugged.
“Alright. Doctor, would you do me the honor of making out with me for research purposes?”
“It’d be my pleasure. Though, it’s going to feel different from before.”
“I trust that you're not the type to stick your tongue down a man's throat right away.”
“You are the only person who says things like that to my face.”
“And you let me get away with it. Because, unfortunately, you love me.”
“I do love you,” Ratio said easily. “And it isn't unfortunate at all.”
“You’re the only person who says things like that to my face,” Aventurine whispered.
“Well, you let me get away with it. Come here.” Aventurine inched closer again, heart racing with anticipation. Ratio adjusted his own body so that his inner thigh rested against Aventurine’s hip. His body was warm, and Aventurine’s skin felt like it was buzzing.
“I brushed my teeth earlier,” he said, unprompted. Ratio snorted.
“Good to know. But we’ll likely just be able to taste each other’s tea.” He gestured casually to his and Aventurine’s half-empty mugs sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Now, do you want me to lead again?”
“Please do.”
“Alright. Again, pull away whenever you like. Kiss back, but only do what feels good. And don’t overthink. Remember, it’s just me.”
“Just you,” Aventurine repeated. Just Ratio, who loved him more than anyone else alive loved him. Right. “Right.” Ratio slipped an arm back around Aventurine and took a soft breath before leaning in close.
“Ready?”
“Be gentle with me, dear doctor,” Aventurine muttered with a small grin. Ratio closed the distance between them without another word, and he let his eyes close.
This kiss started out like before. It was neat and gentle, though Aventurine was quicker to return the affections. Just when he thought he was getting confident, Ratio moved a hand to his chin and coaxed his lips apart. Aventurine held back a gasp when the tip of Ratio’s tongue pushed cautiously into his mouth. He opened his lips more and mirrored the action. When their tongues pressed against each other, a spark jolted down Aventurine’s spine— his brain’s way of letting him know this felt good. Aventurine grabbed a fistful of Ratio’s shirt and held it tightly, drawing closer with more enthusiasm. He forced the rational part of his brain to turn off and let his body take over. Ratio angled his head to the opposite side and further captured Aventurine’s mouth with his own. With the more intimate proximity, Aventurine realized Ratio’s mouth did, in fact, taste like the tea they’d been drinking, the sharp mint flavor dulled by the contact. He decided to get cocky again. Trying not to smile, he grazed his teeth against Ratio’s bottom lip. Ratio responded with a soft sound, almost a groan, and Aventurine’s head started to spin. If this was a movie, he thought absently, this would be an awful good scene.
Ratio’s hands were providing a completely different kind of sensation. Every few seconds, he would gently squeeze Aventurine’s waist— an exceptionally sensitive part of his body— and stroke his thumbs over the space below his ribs. Aventurine could feel how hot his hands were even through the thin fabric of the shirt he wore. It was intense, though not unbearable. But when Ratio moved one hand up and trailed his fingers over the shell of his ear, Aventurine accidentally let slip a pleased noise and suddenly felt like he might pass out. He pulled back immediately and gasped for air, twisting his body away from Ratio and slapping a hand over his mouth. Ratio gave him fifteen seconds to catch his breath before speaking.
“Are you alright, gambler?” Aventurine wordlessly reached over and politely patted his knee as if they hadn’t just been passionately kissing. He stared at Ratio, wide-eyed.
“You didn’t tell me you were going to use that trick,” he said, not at all angry.
“My apologies,” Ratio said, not at all sorry. “That was quite good, considering it was your first time doing it.”
“Doc, you were my first kiss.”
“If you’re about to mourn that you’ll never get it back, spare my feelings.”
“Are you kidding? I don’t know anyone else who would be willing to do all this for me just because I watched too many movies. Thank you.”
“Any time. It was nice.” Aventurine failed to hide a sappy smile.
“Any time?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I daresay I might take you up on that offer.”
“I daresay I’ll be looking forward to it.”