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Sometimes I can't believe this is real. Or, more honestly, he was almost hesitant to believe it. Aventurine’s life had never been particularly soft. Sure, his luck had gotten him out of situations that would otherwise have killed him, and he’d made his way through life taking advantage of it. He’d secured a job and a place to live and more money than he would ever need. He lived a cushiony life, and he couldn’t be ungrateful for the hand he’d been dealt. But the corporate side of his lifestyle only treated him well as long as he complied with its demands and followed its conditions. If he stepped over the line, the thin-as-ice kindness he was given could be taken away. But for so long, he’d dreamed for his life to treat him kindly, to be soft and gentle unconditionally, just for the sake of it. That was his dream for years, and he always assumed it was an impossible, fanciful hope to have. Even his good luck surely couldn’t give him a life he could love and feel like he was loved by in return. But, by the grace of whatever higher power or universal force, he’d fallen into that life— completely accidentally. He had the gentleness he’d always secretly craved, and the genuine love that he was more than eager to reciprocate. This feeling of love struck him most often during the latest hours of the night.
Aventurine wasn’t sleeping. He was staring at the ceiling, very much wide awake, taking in the environment of his bedroom that only appeared when it was well past midnight. The moonlight filtered through the curtains on the window cast a soft sheen over the room, reaching to the edge of the bed. Off to his left was the extravagant cat tower in the corner of the room. Tiny meow-like snores came from within it, overlapping with each other. Aventurine could pick out each of the three catcakes by sound alone. To his right was Ratio, burrowed underneath a pile of blankets and peacefully sleeping by his side. Aventurine listened to his steady breathing and tried to match its pace for a few inhales and exhales. It was all very… ordinary. Himself, Ratio, and their pets, in their quietest and most vulnerable forms. It seemed so much like a dream. He felt like if he closed his eyes or went to sleep, he would wake and find that a dream was all it had been. With a quiet sigh, he turned his head to the side and gazed at Ratio, whose face was barely visible beneath the cocoon of blankets. He scooted closer to him and felt around in the dark to find one of Ratio’s warm hands, guiding it to rest gently on his own stomach under the sheets. He placed both of his hands on top of Ratio’s and shut his eyes. The contact and warmth were comforting, a solid reminder that this was, in fact, real. It was not just a dream, and he would wake tomorrow next to the same man, and the same three cats would be begging for breakfast. He could perfectly visualize it. Ratio would be up first, like he always was. He’d get out of bed to work out without waking Aventurine, and Aventurine would get up to make coffee not long after. Ratio would feed the cats, because Aventurine all too often acquiesced to their pleas for extra servings. Aventurine would get dressed, and he and Ratio would have idle talk in raised voices between the kitchen and bathroom. Aventurine would keep their conversation going until the last possible second, and then exclaim that he was going to be late for work. Ratio would kiss his face and hug him goodbye, and Aventurine would leave the apartment wishing his job didn’t exist. This was the routine they’d built up, and he could seldom believe he’d ever considered it a pipe dream. It was not going to be taken away from him, and if he did something wrong, he would still be loved just the same. But that fear crept in anyway, reminding him that luck could only get him so far. He shut his eyes closed tighter, feeling that annoying sting of almost-tears. He must also have been holding Ratio's hand too tightly, because the doctor stirred a bit and half-opened his eyes, blinking sleepily.
“What’re you doing?” Ratio muttered, voice soft and slightly hoarse. “What time—” He cut himself off as Aventurine turned over to face him, tears silently rolling over the bridge of his nose, face still stuck in his usual unreadable expression.
“Sorry,” Aventurine said, the word coming out louder than he meant it to.
"Gambler…" There was less tiredness in Ratio's voice now, and more concern. The hand Aventurine had been clutching to his stomach moved slowly to his back, never breaking contact once. His crimson eyes were full of nothing but love. Aventurine knew this to be true, as Ratio wiped the tears from his face and pulled him close— Ratio loved him dearly. Even though he sometimes hesitated to embrace it, that was still a fact. Aventurine grabbed the sheet and yanked it up over their heads, the force of air creating a bubble that quickly deflated and settled around their bodies.
“Ratio,” he whispered, as if hiding from something he didn’t want to hear his doubt. “Is this a dream?” Ratio leaned in close, pressing kisses to Aventurine’s forehead, his cheeks, his lips.
“Does it feel like a dream?” he asked.
“Yes. Too good to be true.” The hand in the small of his back slowly rubbed up and down. Aventurine let himself sink into Ratio’s chest, burying his face into his shirt.
“I promise it’s not a dream.”
“That sounds like something a dream person would say.” He could sense that Ratio was smiling even with the small sliver of moonlight.
“You’re just going to have to trust me until you get more proof tomorrow morning.”
“Well, hold me until then, won’t you? So I know you’re real.” Ratio wrapped his arms around Aventurine and hugged him tight. He said nothing else. Aventurine didn’t need him to. Just to be held was all the proof he needed.