Chapter Text
Cloud-dappled sunshine filtered through the wide windows along the front of the Glamour and Seams tailor’s shop, illuminating the carefully-selected displays of their work. It wasn’t the most elegant spot on Pier Point, but it was Aventurine’s favorite by a wide margin - it had built its reputation on every single customer-facing employee being or training to be some manner of textile artisan. Most of the corporate executives wanted their fancy clothes to turn them into something better than they were; the people at Glamour and Seams understood that the clothes themselves deserved to be treated as an art form in their own right. He’d wanted to cry the first time he came to this place, surrounded at last by people who understood something he’d grown up cherishing so closely.
The clouds outside were harmless shade right now, but the rainy season would be starting within the month. Pier Point didn’t get a lot of temperature fluctuation, but the changes in precipitation could get severe; what would normally be the absolute worst of the torrential rain was now controlled with satellite siphons, sucking the water from the clouds and gently returning it to the groundwater supplies mechanically. Still, before long it would rain at least a little every day, and rain-resistant clothes would be back in fashion - and even if Aventurine was in a position to ensure not a drop would touch him, he had every intention of keeping up, if not outright setting the trend. Replacing a third of his wardrobe every handful of months had felt like wasteful extravagance in the beginning, but now it might’ve been his favorite way to cling to the passage of time in a corporate colony where so few things felt like they changed.
The gala next month was the perfect justification for starting that wardrobe-changing process. Once upon a time it would have been a charity event; now, when the IPC wanted to raise funds for nonspecific future projects, they would promote a bunch of work done by the Traditional Project Department’s very best. Create an excuse to keep the old artisans on staff, free up the funds for anything they didn’t want to publicly admit to, and now the fancy party could just be a fancy party to ring in the new season. If the weather predictions were accurate - and with so much monitoring equipment and so much computing power, Pier Point’s weather people were almost always basically right - the gala would be held on the night of the first storm of the season. Aventurine had kept himself in the dark on the details on purpose; people could celebrate rain without it turning into ritual, and not knowing how it would go helped him keep his distance. Rain was about to become common again. If he fell to the urge to pick up old traditions, he could do it in the privacy of his own home, with only the cat cakes as witnesses.
Aventurine was currently in the back of the shop, in front of the triple mirror, where he and the attendants could see every angle of his new suit on his body. The suit jacket and pants were made of water-resistant wool in a black and charcoal houndstooth pattern; the vest was his signature peacock green in waxed cotton, the buttons offset as if double-breasted, with card suits embroidered in gold to balance it out. With the right shirt, tie, and shoes, it may not have been his usual look, but it was still something he’d be proud to wear.
“How do the shoulders feel?” Anise, one of the attendants, held up a measuring tape, and Aventurine lifted his arms to test it.
“Feels fine to me,” he said, lowering his arms and shrugging. “By now I think you’ve got my measurements figured out, and I don’t gain much muscle. Your work’s as comfortable as always.”
“If it’s not too much, you could stand to fill out a little more,” Rosemary chimed in from her spot pinning his pants cuffs in place for hemming. “I’m not a doctor, but some of your numbers seem small compared to your height. Skinny might be in fashion, but there’s a limit.”
Aventurine laughed it off, shifting his stance to let her reach the inner leg. Chatting with these two always felt easy during his appointments. No one here had a terribly high ranking in the IPC, but they felt human in a way most employees kind of didn’t. They were respectful, but they saw him as a person before they saw a Stoneheart. They weren’t scared to call him out, or rib him a little, even if it always tied back to his clothes and his fashion. In another life, they would have felt like cousins, people he could leave and come back to and trust that nothing had changed. They supported him and he supported them, and a long time ago he’d promised himself that if the store ever got in trouble, he’d be there for them.
The jingle of the store bell felt distant, proof of another customer stepping in; maybe for the appointment after his, maybe just to browse or consult, it wasn’t Aventurine’s problem. He tuned out the dull click of low heels approaching the counter, more concerned with Rosemary switching legs while Anise wanted to measure sleeve length.
“Good afternoon.” His brain scratched to a stop. He knew that voice. That silky arrogance. “I’m here for a fitting appointment at 2:15.”
“Of course, welcome,” Louise the front clerk said, probably with her usual smile. “Can I get the name on that appointment?”
“Dr. Veritas Ratio.” Aventurine stared into the mirror in front of him. He tried to focus on his breathing, on Rosemary crawling around his feet. It didn’t make sense for Ratio to be here. If he needed a new outfit, there had to be tailors closer to home for him, didn’t there? Ratio didn’t live on Pier Point, because he didn’t work for the IPC. He worked with the IPC enough to represent them sometimes, but that wasn’t the same thing. Ratio lived over on Veritas Prime where he worked, like a normal person. So why in the world would he be here?
“Our last customer is still finishing up,” Louise told him, “but he should be done by the start of your appointment. Do I have it right that you’ve never worked with us before, doctor?”
“That is correct,” Ratio said. “I was informed you specialize in crafting garments suited to the local climate from the ground up. As I don’t live here, I hope your craftsmanship is of the appropriate quality.”
“We’ve served employees up to rank P46 at this establishment.” Louise was always proud of that implicit recognition from Jade’s occasional orders. “Everybody you’ll see today is either an artisan or in training to become one. If quality is what you prize, you’re in the perfect place.”
“Good. Now, where shall I wait?” Aventurine could just about hear Ratio tucking that book of his into the crook of his arm, just from memory. The doctor may not have been known for politeness, but even he could surely tell Louise was doing nothing wrong if he was being nice to her. She’d confirmed his appointment promptly and offered only relevant information. No apologies, no bragging, no wasting valuable time. It was why he liked her too. And Ratio was patient enough to know that showing up early meant waiting for your time to come.
… Wait. He’d asked where he was expected to wait. The only seats around the shop were--
“We have chairs near the fitting mirror, if you’d like to wait there,” Louise offered.
“That will be fine.” Two sets of footsteps started moving towards them, and Aventurine swallowed hard, shifting his feet again and trying not to kick Rosemary in the process. Or get stabbed with her safety pins. Anise was checking his sleeve cuffs now too, gently pulling his arm this way and that to see how the fabric moved, and all of a sudden Aventurine felt very much like a doll being posed and played with.
It only took a few seconds for Louise and Ratio to show up in the mirror. Aventurine could see the doctor pause for a moment, looking him up and down, before he moved on towards the armchairs against the wall. “If you need anything, I’ll be at the counter,” Louise said as she turned and abandoned him again.
The silence felt stiff, rigid, Ratio buried in his book while the attendants finished pinning and checking and measuring Aventurine’s clothes. Rosemary and Anise shuffling backwards to give him one last look-over after a few tense minutes was the biggest relief he’d had all day.
“Right, then,” Anise said, clapping her hands together. “You’re all sorted. Go change back into your normal clothes. Doctor, since you’re here a little early, can I go ahead and show you the fitting room with your order in it?”
Aventurine didn’t listen to whatever Ratio said in response, speed-walking to the privacy of his own fitting room. He eased the pinned garments off his body and onto their hangers, hurried through re-dressing himself, and leaned back against one wall with his eyes shut to breathe for a minute. There was nothing wrong with Ratio being here, but the sudden appearance still had him all out of sorts. He couldn’t tell if he was happy at the sudden fortune of running into him, or panicked at being caught off-guard. Both, kind of? But at the same time, something was off about this. There was no reason he could think of for his dear doctor to be having a fitting appointment around Pier Point, least of all with Aventurine’s favorite tailors, and especially not in the very next appointment block. He was used to weird coincidences, but this one was just too much of a coincidence to accept.
Slowly, quietly, Aventurine slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He pulled his knees in close to his chest, set his head on them, and hoped his heart wouldn’t start racing as soon as he stood back up. It used to feel safe to think about his crush on the doctor. He’d been nursing it for a few years now, and he’d done a pretty good job keeping it secret, if he did say so himself. Maybe a few more lingering looks, a few more smiles, a few more obvious excuses to spend time with him than he should’ve taken, but nothing anyone should have noticed. It was fine when it was just a silly little secret. But then Ratio started looking at him differently, and letting him get away with wasting his time, and then he said he’d been considering Aventurine more, and it was starting to feel distressingly plausible that Ratio might like him back.
That should have been a good thing, it should’ve been a golden opportunity to get what he wanted, but it also meant Aventurine could fuck this up. He could play the game wrong and lose out on Ratio forever. He wouldn’t just lose a working partner - he’d lose a possible happy relationship with a man he’d been dreaming about for years. The only advantage a gambler could ever have was having nothing to lose, and having something he really could lose made him feel sick. He’d panicked through too many conversations in the past year or so trying to balance his desire to let Ratio in with his desire not to lose anything. Playing it safe had never been his style, and the anxiety felt like it might actually kill him before he got any results.
So Ratio conveniently showing up right here, right now, especially in a way where he could be a captive audience for Aventurine to talk with him… it should’ve been perfect. A chance to feel him out some more, gauge Ratio’s opinions on things - maybe even talk him into spending some more time together. He could take a leap if things looked promising, but be out nothing if the doctor didn’t seem amenable to it today. But it was too convenient. And if the doctor wasn’t setting things up himself, then someone else was messing with Aventurine’s personal life. And that wasn’t so much terrifying as generally peeving.
Aventurine gave himself another couple minutes to sit on the floor and breathe before pushing himself to get up and dust his coat off. The clock was ticking. He could agonize over his decisions later - but he wouldn’t get another clear chance to figure out what was going on with this too-convenient coincidence.
He walked out from the fitting rooms with his head high, projecting as much casual confidence as he could as he dropped himself into one of the waiting chairs. Aventurine took a good long look at Ratio’s new outfit around Rosemary and Anise; the jacket and pants were what he could only ever think of as Ratio blue, the vest marbled with two shades of black with a borrowed white dress shirt underneath - Aventurine ran his tongue over the backs of his teeth at the way it didn’t properly fit over the doctor’s muscles - but the magic of this outfit was how they worked in his iconic toga layer. His suit jacket had been constructed with a wide white flap across the back, stretching most of the way towards his elbows, that if Aventurine understood correctly by sight could be flipped up to serve as a wide hood capable of shielding him from any rain while also making him look terribly imposing (and dramatic and gorgeous and everything else that came with looking like a marble statue turned human). Additionally, between his shirt and his vest they’d tied a white sash, one that came down over his hips and almost started to hide an incredible butt before tying off, its one long end trying its fabric-y best to curl around Ratio’s right leg. Aventurine knew Ratio would find some way to make that thing behave and trail prettily without getting tangled around him, but for now he could sit and enjoy the way it curved and curled and accented the man’s figure.
“That’s a fun-looking design,” he commented, leaning back in his seat. “How long have you guys been working on it?”
“About as long as anyone’s,” Rosemary said, holding her measuring tape to Ratio’s leg. “Orders started coming in for the season’s change gala pretty much all at once, but you know how some of the middle executives get huffy about the impression their pieces make. Making a collection of very similar suits goes faster, but the artist in all of us loves getting a chance to work on different designs.”
“Sorry to disappoint you with my order, then,” Aventurine laughed. “It looks and feels great, but it’s sure a classic style this time. At least you get to play around with Ratio.”
“Do you two know each other?” Anise glanced over from where she was fussing with Ratio’s shirt, trying to make it lay correctly.
“I don’t work for the IPC, but I do work with them,” Ratio cut in smoothly. “Aventurine and I have a long list of successful partnerships behind us. I doubt he’s worked with any other Intelligentsia Guild representatives in the field in the past five years.”
Aventurine nodded. “I’ve worked with others on the bureaucracy side, but no need to break things that don’t need fixing. I’ll take a prickly doctor who gets things done over a sociable incompetent any day.”
“That was almost sweet.” Rosemary put her tape measure to the other leg, shifting it up and down by fractions of centimeters at a time. “Well, thanks for bringing us more good business, then.”
“Actually, this one wasn’t me,” Aventurine said. “How did you end up here, Ratio? You must have tailors a little closer to home you could work with.”
“Madam Jade recommended it to me once she learned I was on the upcoming gala’s guest list.” The doctor pulled his head to one side so Anise could tug at his collar. “I was aware it was an event celebrating a change in seasons, but I had not been informed that weatherproof clothing was expected. She told me these tailors were the top recommendation for anyone prioritizing quality and originality in their attire, and so far I have not been disappointed in that.”
“Well, they’re my favorite game in town for a reason.” His fingers itched to grab his phone already. “Smooth sailing, I hope?”
“As smooth as can be expected among this many orders.” Ratio let Anise start pulling and posing his arms to see what his sleeves did. “Three points for rescheduling this appointment as efficiently as possible.”
Aventurine paused. He’d never known anyone at Glamour and Seams to reschedule appointments if it wasn’t absolutely unavoidable. Maybe his rank just protected him from the worst of it, since practically every other customer could be deemed less important than he was, but he had a hunch it wasn’t that simple. He’d heard Louise flat-out refuse to change the appointment schedule for an especially temperamental rank P35 before, standing firm no matter what threats he turned against her. (Aventurine had made it clear to all the staff before leaving that day that, should anything actually come of the man’s threats, all they had to do was call him and he’d sort everything back out.) So what could have gotten her to reschedule Ratio’s appointment to this exact timeslot?
“Well, at least it was easy,” he said, taking out his phone. “Hope it’s worth it for the good outfit.”
He tapped into his messages and searched for Jade’s number. Only one way to get more information about this.
Aventurine: Is weatherproof clothing actually part of the dress code this year?
Dress code for what didn’t need to be specified. If Aventurine’s bet was on the mark - and he had a strong feeling about this one - Jade would know exactly what any question was about. From how fast his phone buzzed, she’d been expecting this, too.
Jade: Of course not. You don’t change fashion by setting rules; you change fashion by letting people think they’ve discovered something when they notice what you’re doing.
Aventurine: Then why did you tell Ratio it’s expected?
Jade: I can’t have him holding you back in public. He has no way of independently knowing you’ll be setting a new trend, so I gave him a bit of friendly advice.
Jade: After all, I’m on your side. The Season’s Change Gala is a perfect time for everyone to refresh their formal wardrobes. I considered suggesting a small modeling event for this year’s party; with three Stonehearts debuting new styles, it would be fitting.
Aventurine: Topaz is in on this too, huh? She’ll do anything you suggest.
Aventurine: Anyways, Ratio doesn't hold me back, least of all in public. Changing fashion is the kind of petty personal game where I don't even keep score. This one party isn't the only chance I'll have, either.
Aventurine: You didn't need to reach out to him for this.
Jade: You’re aware of my management style, Aventurine. Polishing you to a brilliant shine is and will always be an ongoing process of improvement and maintenance. This may be a petty personal game to you, but I see it as the perfect way to advance an agenda.
Jade: Will changing the fashion of Pier Point and beyond net us additional assets? Aside from stimulating the relevant industry, not really. But it cements you as a leader, and establishes the three of us as a more publicly united front. You see how that’s valuable, yes?
He rolled his eyes. Typical.
Aventurine: That’s all well and good, but it’s not what you really had in mind. You have quite the talent for thinking up more and more benefits for the things you wanted to do anyways.
Jade: I suppose I’m guilty of that, yes. Being able to make connections with further consideration is also a valuable skill.
Aventurine: It does you a lot of good. It’s also handy for hiding your true aim. That’s what you’re really doing, isn’t it?
Jade: Aren’t you doing the same?
Aventurine paused. He blinked down at his phone, at the three wiggling dots before her next message.
Jade: You wouldn’t have messaged me just to satisfy your curiosity about whether the event dress code just so happened to line up with your fashion plans. You would have saved that to make small talk while we wait for this weekend’s meeting.
Jade: So, do you have another question to ask me?
Aventurine tapped his fingers against the back of his phone, toes clicking on the floor in his shoes. He didn’t like being seen this clearly. He didn’t like losing his armor - the literal stuff like his hat and shades, or the more metaphorical stuff like opaque intentions. But if Jade saw right through him, there wasn’t much point in not showing his hand.
Aventurine: You suggested Ratio fall in line with my plans whether he knew it or not. Did you also make suggestions at Glamour and Seams?
Jade: I chose another business for my outfit this time. Their schedule seemed very full when I called with my inquiries.
Aventurine bit down on his tongue. He forced a slow breath through his nose, slowly relaxed his grip on his phone. It wasn’t worth it to be angry at her. Getting information was more important.
Aventurine: Let me rephrase that. Ratio went to Glamour and Seams on your personal recommendation. His fitting appointment was rescheduled to be overlapping with mine.
Aventurine: Did you contact Glamour and Seams to encourage them to mess with his appointment in any way?
He pressed his spine against the back of his chair, forcing himself to breathe evenly while Jade kept typing. Going all in was usually exciting, at least a little bit, but now he was just full of nerves and a fraying temper.
Jade: Yes, I did. There shouldn’t have needed to be any rescheduling to begin with, but one unlucky customer of theirs had very limited options for when she could be seen. Her situation needed to be fixed before I could get Ratio set up properly, but there’s always a way to set things in motion.
Aventurine: Wait, is that the girl who got promoted to Topaz’s team the other month?
Jade: Whether it is or isn’t the same girl doesn’t seem relevant to this discussion.
Translation, it definitely was, and Jade would be very upset if she saw any retaliation.
Jade: More relevant to this discussion, how do you like the doctor’s outfit? I haven’t seen it for myself, but I heard a few things during the drafting phase. It sounds more than suitable.
Aventurine: They really upped the ante with this one. The rest of the party might have trouble competing for looks.
Jade: Then you’d better claim the pot for yourself.
Aventurine’s mind blanked. He stared at his phone, blinking once or twice, waiting to make any sense at all of that comment.
Aventurine: Come again?
Jade: You’re a clever and capable man, Aventurine. I’d trust you with any number of delicate assignments for the IPC. Your success rate in your line of work over the past seven years has been beyond belief, even when the costs of business ran high.
Jade: But it seems that in your personal life, you have quite a bit of trouble advancing your romantic agenda. I won’t let you stay blind to the opportunities available to you.
His grip tightened on his phone as he tried to keep his breathing stable for a whole different reason. No denying it now - he’d been caught. He didn’t know how, when, or why, but it didn’t really matter. Jade knew, and she’d apparently decided how it should go already.
Aventurine: I’m not blind to my opportunities. I’m figuring out what I want to do about them.
Jade: Child, you decided what you wanted a long time ago. Has something changed to call for a reevaluation?
Why did she have to know him? It wasn’t fair that she’d seen through his poker face already. Nothing was fair with Jade anyways, he knew that better than anyone, but he still wanted to whine about it sometimes. Shouldn’t he get to choose when to play his cards? It was cheating to look at cards being shuffled and dealt. And somehow she did it anyways.
Aventurine: Fine. Yes, I know what I want. That doesn’t mean it’s actually attainable.
Jade: You, fearing something’s out of reach? I didn’t think I’d hear of such a thing.
Jade: The Aventurine I know is willing to put his life on the line for any goal, no matter how small it may be in the grand scheme of things. He’s sunk quite a lot into a reputation for being willing to do whatever it takes, whatever the aim.
Jade: Either you’ve seen a lot of compelling evidence I’m not aware of, or you’ve suddenly developed a real fear of rejection.
Breathe. Breathe, he reminded himself. He was already getting dizzy, his ears and toes tingling slightly. He hated being cornered. He hated being cornered, especially when he couldn’t solve the issue by pushing past someone and fleeing, or shooting them, or making a last desperate gamble to save his own skin. If he knew Jade, and he was pretty sure he did, she already had plans to catch him again if he tried getting out of the conversation she wanted to be having.
His phone buzzed in his hand again, and Aventurine opened eyes he didn’t remember closing.
Jade: If something is wrong, you can talk to me. I’ll help you sort it out. You’re still my top investment; I want you performing your best in all arenas, including personal ones.
Slowly, deliberately, Aventurine breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. This, he could deal with. He was an investment, and she was his manager. All she wanted was for things to go smoothly so she could reap the rewards. Nothing new, nothing fancy. He could handle this.
Aventurine: I don’t know what you have and haven’t heard about. But I’m not scared of the doctor.
Aventurine: There are some gambles you can’t make a second time. Those are the gambles I don’t like. I’ll make them if I have to, but I’d rather be able to play the odds until I can cash out on my terms, not the house’s.
Aventurine: You acquiring me for the IPC was a gamble I had to make. But it was a gamble I spent years planning for. It was desperate, but it wasn’t as purely lucky as some people would love to believe.
Aventurine: Pursuing a romantic agenda with the doctor, as you put it earlier, falls pretty much in the same camp. I don’t get to play the odds forever. If I fumble this once, I might be out of the game for good. I’d lose everything. Run into the red, even, if he refuses to work with me anymore.
Aventurine: Years of collaboration could be gone in a single bad argument if I let things get too emotional.
He didn't want to talk about how empty he would feel without Ratio in his life. He didn't want to talk about the ache of not being allowed to contact him, or how painful it would be to lose the perspective of someone so… unwilling to box him in. Ratio looked at him and saw a smart man being incentivised to make himself dangerously approachable, someone who never went to school and didn't know a whole lot of things but could learn if he was given a chance. Most days Aventurine didn't even see himself that well. He didn't feel much more human than when Ratio was talking to him. The thought of driving his dear doctor away was so much worse than the thought of getting killed for the IPC.
Jade: Have you considered the possibility that Ratio might accept your advances?
Aventurine: Obviously. I wouldn't be this worked up about something that just wasn't possible.
Jade: So that's what's changed. You finally noticed he's interested in you, and that's why you've been tying yourself in knots for months.
Aventurine: If you need to put that fine a point on it.
He sighed again. It was obvious where this was going by now.
Jade: Well, it would be a shame to waste those years of collaboration. But as much as you’re known for your all-or-nothing gambles, a finer touch might be most appropriate with this.
Jade: You don’t need to open with your grandest gesture. You could simply ease further into the idea of spending your personal time together. Invite him somewhere without the pretense of work, and see if you can make a small amount of your feelings known.
… Well, maybe it wasn’t as obvious as he thought it was. The idea wasn’t a bad one. Aventurine wasn’t known for half-measures, but he’d tread lightly on his assignments plenty of times while feeling out clients. It was just…
Aventurine: You don’t think that’s a little annoying for him? Getting strung around slowly until I can get to the point?
Jade: He’s welcome to advance things on his own terms. Perhaps he’s waiting for you to make the next move, so that he doesn’t push you further than you’re comfortable with.
Jade: The doctor isn’t known for considering the feelings of others, but perhaps things change when love is involved, just as they’ve done for you.
Aventurine jolted when Anise clapped. “Right, then,” she said, “you’re all sorted. You can change back into your normal clothes now. Please leave your garments on their hangars the way you found them, doctor. Do you remember your fitting room?”
“Naturally.” Ratio rolled his shoulders back, probably sore from being posed and pushed around for… however long it had been. “Will I be scheduling another appointment after this, or a delivery?”
“Delivery,” Rosemary said, pushing herself off the ground. “We’ll use today’s measurements to finish everything up for you. Did you want a new dress shirt as well?”
“I have enough shirts that fit me properly. You should have advised me that I’d need to prepare one for the appointment.” His words may have been pointed, but Ratio’s tone was cool, not scathing. Normally he’d’ve hit at least one of them with chalk and a lecture for unclear expectations. The girls must’ve said some pretty impressive things to be let off with a warning like this.
“We’ll be clearer next time,” Rosemary said to the doctor’s retreating back. Then she turned to Aventurine and more privately continued, “Not that he couldn’t wear his suit with the top he wore in. The colors would be off-balance, but you could call it a statement piece.”
Anise stepped over and held out a hand, brow knitted together with concern. “Are you alright? That sounded like an intense round of emails. Were you supposed to be somewhere after all this?”
Aventurine let her help him out of his chair, pocketing his phone. “Just talking to Jade,” he said, trying to sound more resigned than conflicted. “She’s got opinions about how I spend the rest of the day. At least it’s not more office meetings.”
Rosemary patted his shoulder sympathetically. “She can be a tough boss. But at least she cares, you know? Unless it’s just micromanaging, then you can complain all you want to us.”
He put a little fist to his mouth and laughed. “It’s fine, really,” he reassured them. “Just advice on capitalizing on some intangible assets. Nothing fancy.”
“Okay, too much.” Rosemary pulled back her hand with a half-smile. “You’re even laughing like her. Get some fresh air after this, okay? Walk around, grab a drink. Whatever’s bothering you, you’ll feel better when you’re taken care of.”
Walk around. Grab a drink. Ease into things. The little gears started turning in the back of Aventurine’s head. His phone buzzed in his pocket as if encouraging his line of thinking. There was one thing that he could do - one pretty little answer that should satisfy everyone.
“You know, I think I will,” Aventurine said, looking down the hallway to the fitting rooms. “You two don’t happen to have a favorite coffee shop nearby, do you? All my usual spots are a little too far away.”
“Ooh, Louise could name you half a dozen,” Rosemary said, “but my spot’s maybe two blocks north, Candle Vain. Get yourself a muffin while you’re at it, they’re the size of your fist with some delicious icing. Baked in-house and everything. Sugar fixes every business problem for a while.”
Anise nodded. “Candle Vain’s pretty good. If sugar’s not your style, they also do really good bread rolls. I know they have an actual lunch menu too, but I’ve never tried it.”
Ratio rounded the corner down the hall, normal clothes comfortably back in place, and Aventurine turned to fully smile at the attendants again. “Thanks for all your help today, you two,” he said, letting his tone turn warm. “See you when everything’s done.”
He sauntered over to the front counter before Ratio could finish the walk back out. “Call me when my order’s done, I’ll come pick it up this time.”
“You got it,” Louise chirped before lowering her voice. “You do actually know this doctor, right?”
“Oh, yes. We’re very familiar with each other.” Aventurine lowered his voice to match, grinning conspiratorially. “Why do you think I’m picking up this time? I’m not above gossip.”
Louise grinned back at him. “I’ll be here whenever your pickup window is. Promise.”
Aventurine tapped the counter, stepping back as Ratio came into view once more. The doctor scheduling his interplanetary delivery was a great chance to check his messages one more time.
Jade: Remember, Aventurine. You lose every gamble you don’t take. Don’t make yourself stay up late tonight wishing you’d done things differently.
He smiled to himself, small but confident. Yes - he could do this.There was no single action he was about to take that he hadn’t done dozens of times before, and if the tone was a little different, so what? He could bounce back from a little misplaced sincerity if he had to. If Ratio was just totally not into the vulnerability after all, he could laugh it off and pretend it didn’t hurt. He’d done worse to himself before. He could handle a tiny beginner’s gamble today.
When Ratio stepped away from the desk, Aventurine left the store with him, allowing Ratio to hold the door open above his head on the way out. “So, doc,” he began, “think you’ve got time for coffee before your next appointment?”
“That seems like a more pertinent question for you,” Ratio said pointedly. Still, he let Aventurine steer them northwards in the bustling throng. “If you just happen to have an hour of downtime so conveniently, I’m free enough to spend the remainder of it with you, but I’ll not have you pushing off work into the evening and keeping yourself awake over this.”
Aventurine blinked at the crowd around them, but kept his smile brazen. “I actually do. More than an hour, even. I’ve heard about a nice little place within a couple blocks, so please, let me share it with you.” He’d have to ask Jade about the block of free time later. It hadn’t struck him earlier, but he did have an unusually clear afternoon today. Hopefully that was the actual extent of her meddling in this situation, if it wasn’t just a coincidence.
“If you’re certain,” the professor conceded, stopping at the crosswalk with him. “I can’t say I object to having a nice drink after an appointment like that.”
The white WALK signal popped on a moment later. Aventurine never had to wait long around here. “And no one’s drugged this time,” he joked, casually stepping outside the painted lines.
Ratio grabbed his elbow and tugged him back within the crosswalk. “I should hope not. I’ll have more serious words for you if you are.”
Aventurine laughed, but his mind was much more on the hand that lingered on his arm until they were out of the street, and on trying to control the flips his stomach was suddenly doing. The gesture had been automatic, thoughtless, but Ratio had never pulled him around like that before. Was it to stop Aventurine from committing the world’s most minor crime, or to keep him safe and close? Either way, he kind of liked that. Maybe he should step just a little bit outside the lines more often.
It wasn’t hard to find their destination. The three-story brick building reading Candle Vain Coffee, with a logo of a candle inside an old round hand mirror, had a couple round tables out front filled with young employees in twos and threes. Aventurine pulled the wooden door open, and again Ratio grabbed it above his head to hold it open for them both. Inside, square and rectangle tables were lined up neatly, wide doilies over the backs of most wooden chairs for a splash of personality. The first floor was about two-thirds full, but the next two floors only took up about half the length of the building, making it easy to look up between the railings to find even more seating. The second floor seemed maybe half-full, and Aventurine couldn’t really gauge the third, but if all those windows on the outside let in as much light as they looked like they would, it was either the emptiest or the fullest part of the property. Of course he immediately decided he wanted to sit up there.
“Would you like to stay here, or find a bench outside?” Ratio asked as they joined the short line.
“I wanna see what that top floor is like,” Aventurine replied, pulling his phone out to briefly check his email. There were plenty of things he’d been CC’d in, but none of them were flagged urgent and he couldn’t see any other Stoneheart names attached, so they could wait until he was done with his doctor.
“Very well,” Ratio said, taking out his own phone to presumably do something similar. There was something comfortable in this, standing side by side and advancing one step at a time while they did their own stuff to keep their lives going. He wasn’t unaware of Ratio’s presence next to him, but he wasn’t constantly super aware of it either. Something he could acknowledge and like without it taking up all his attention.
Maybe this was why Jade was pushing for him to advance, he reflected. Maybe she’d seen the potential for this comfort and thought it’d benefit him. He was pretty sure she had something like this feeling when Topaz was around, a kind of trust and alliance that went past the borders of working together. Everyone around them knew Topaz and Jade would fight for each other on principle, no matter the subject. Everyone knew those two would fall into comfortable conversation more or less as soon as they saw one another, and interruptions were tolerated more than anything. It meant they could drop in on each other’s projects as naturally as breathing, pick up each other’s slack and loose ends, then walk back off to finish their own work. It wasn’t at all how he felt working with either of those two, but if he thought about it, maybe it was like that with Ratio. Or could be, if he played his cards right.
The difference was that if Jade and Topaz had a major external relationship, they did a good job of maintaining plausible deniability with it. There were enough theories about them to fuel tabloids, sure - but you could say the same about each of them and him, backed up by photographic ‘evidence’, and Aventurine could say with absolute confidence that he didn’t have a crush on any of the other Stonehearts, much less… whatever this feeling was. Love, maybe? The thought of saying he was in love with his doctor made his pulse pick up in a way he really didn’t like. It tasted like iron and bile, felt like he’d be better off pulling his tongue out and packing the wound with dry ice. But his years-long crush was definitely getting bigger and less innocent every time they saw each other. That had to mean there was something somewhere in his heart. He just didn’t know exactly what.
Was it too much to hope that Ratio had something somewhere in his heart too? He’d definitely started changing his tune a while ago. A year ago Ratio definitely wouldn’t have agreed to suddenly go get coffee in a situation like this - at least not without interrogating his motives for a while first. He would have sighed and shook his head and called him a damned gambler at least once, and even if they made it to the getting something to drink stage, Ratio wouldn’t have sat back and tried to enjoy the experience. He’d tried to do that last time, when he thought Aventurine was stressed in general instead of frustrated by the Swarm’s side effects. He’d probably try to enjoy himself again today. Did that mean something? Probably, right? It probably meant something.
“Welcome to Candle Vain, what can I get you today?” Aventurine looked up from his phone; they’d made it to the front of the line without him noticing. Usually lines made him incredibly impatient, but for once he wished it had lasted longer.
He scanned the menu quickly. “I’d like a mocha with raspberry and cinnamon today.”
“Great,” the barista said, tapping in the order. “Did you want the cinnamon dusted on top, or a stick you can stir it with?”
“On top, thanks,” he said, tucking his phone into his pocket. “And I hear you’ve got good muffins. Surprise me with one.”
She thought for a moment before tapping at the screen again with a smile. “And for you, sir?”
“I’ll have a traditional affogato.” The doctor wasn’t quite stone-faced, but Aventurine wouldn’t call him neutral. Now if only he could actually read that expression.
“Alright, is that all for you two today?” The barista’s smile suddenly looked a little less natural. Maybe she was intimidated by Ratio. Or maybe his coffee was weirdly complicated.
Ratio glanced down at him before nodding.
“Great. Tap to pay, please.” She was already turning away to start their order before she’d finished the instruction.
Ratio stepped forward and Aventurine had to duck in front of him, fishing his card out as he went. “Oh, no,” he said, “you got last time as a favor. My planet, my money.”
The doctor huffed. Aventurine could almost hear him crossing his arms. Since when did Ratio have strong feelings about who paid for things? Maybe he’d wanted to split the bill or something. They’d done that before on personal time. He couldn’t remember if Ratio had ever said anything about only letting the IPC pay for his stuff when they were working together. Whatever. They both had money; even nice coffee was barely worth writing down the price of. Even with Aventurine’s habit of tipping generously at any opportunity. He didn’t have to care about that money, but any random employee would always love a little windfall. And he still remembered not having money, even if he tried not to think about it.
He tapped through the terminal to verify the total, add his tip, and finally pay. That done, he and Ratio walked over to the ready area to wait. Aventurine leaned against the table laden with sugar, cream, and everything else, picked out a wooden stirrer, and fiddled with it between two fingers as a different employee passed some other patrons their drinks.
The silence stretched as orders got placed and made behind them. Aventurine, normally so quick on the draw for conversation, couldn’t for the life of him think of what to say next. How was he supposed to talk about whatever he was feeling? He didn’t even know what to call this. How could he make Ratio understand what he was trying to say without going too far? He wasn’t used to planning things out this deeply. Normally rhythm and instinct could carry him through almost any conversation if he had a basic idea of where he was starting and where he wanted to end up. But this wasn’t the kind of grand-scope IPC gamble where all he had to do was overwhelm anyone else’s bets and exploit the tells he found along the way, crack their armor and squeeze out as much value as he could find. The sky wasn’t the limit here. The limit was Ratio’s patience for awkward, illogical human feelings - patience not very well known for its abundance. He’d be lucky if he had more than a few sentences of time to work with.
Ratio moved and Aventurine’s eyes refocused on him, even though it was just a small adjustment. This place made him look good - even if his face was still stony, not quite neutral, like he saw something he didn’t like but wasn’t annoyed at. The lights were bright and warm, their shine blending into his purple hair in a way that almost looked like fresh-poured wine. The lines of his face - his nose, his cheekbones, his jaw, even his eye sockets - cast shadows that showed off just how good a human profile could really look. There was probably some math concept that explained why Ratio was just better to look at than almost any other man Aventurine knew, but he’d never really been much of a math person, and the idea of learning what ratio defined the face of Dr. Ratio felt more like a joke than a real task. Maybe a joke would be a decent way to start this conversation. Definitely better than complimenting the way his outfit framed his build. Even if these clothes made him look really good, like they always did. That damn chain over his chest window was practically sparkling, and if he kept staring at it he was definitely going to grab it and pull, and he definitely didn’t need to start this talk by dragging Ratio into a kiss in public.
He was definitely staring. Had Ratio noticed he was staring? The doctor was looking straight ahead, arms crossed and finger tapping near his elbow, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed. Peripheral vision existed. Aventurine forced his eyes away and tried to enjoy the painting hung on the opposite wall. What was the pile-of-dots style called, pointillism? Jade had told Topaz to take him to an art museum once to give him a rundown of what to look for, but he’d stopped paying attention except for when he could make fun of something pretty quickly. Paintings weren’t his thing. Maybe he’d get this place a tapestry to hang somewhere, if he ever came back.
“One raspberry mocha and one affogato, with muffins,” the cashier called from behind them.
“I believe he ordered one muffin,” Ratio said sharply as they both turned around. But sure enough, there were two plates with two fist-sized muffins and a spoon or two of icing on top, warmed up enough for the icing to start melting a bit towards the wrappers. If Aventurine had to guess, the yellow one was probably lemon, but the other had two swirled shades of brown and some kind of speckling and he couldn’t imagine what that would taste like. But it was probably good. Rosemary hadn’t steered him wrong with food suggestions before.
“We do have a promotion at the moment,” another voice called from the prep area. “The doubles deal?”
“I might have forgotten to say that,” their cashier said sheepishly. “But it’s true. No extra cost, I promise. It should’ve popped up on the terminal when you were paying.”
“That’s fine,” Aventurine cut in, pushing his way between Ratio and the dishes in the ready area. “There’s no problem. Thanks for catching a nice deal when we missed it.”
She nodded before ducking away towards the register. Ratio, with the stiff air of someone trying not to make a scene, reached over and grabbed their cups - one decently large mug with cinnamon-covered foam, and one decidedly small cup with what almost looked like a lump of ice cream inside. Aventurine grabbed the muffin-laden plates and headed towards the stairs, doctor at his heels the whole way.
The top floor took up a little under half the space of the first, leaving an arm’s-length gap where you could look down and see the second floor below. The many windows were covered by sheer curtains, a different color for each set, with small hooks patrons could use to hold the curtains back if they wanted to look outside. At least, Aventurine assumed they were meant to be used by patrons, given the chaotic spread of open and closed curtains he could see. Those seats were crowded, though, and he didn’t want that much of an audience for this potentially awkward conversation, so Aventurine picked out a table in the middle of the opposite wall, about as far from other patrons as he could get.
Ratio sat down across from him and passed over Aventurine’s coffee, the foam design still mostly intact; the little heart was pretty classic, but it still felt a little on the nose for what he was planning. He passed Ratio the plate with the yellow muffin, setting the mystery brown one in front of himself.
“This wasn’t necessary,” Ratio muttered, inspecting the muffin. “A promotional offer being present does not mean we wish to make use of it. They’re not busy enough to justify trying to shorten the interaction, either.”
“She was trying to be nice,” Aventurine insisted. “If you don’t want the muffin, I’ll take it back. They were a big part of the recommendation for going here.”
The doctor shut his eyes and huffed. “I’ll take it. But perhaps she needs more training.”
Aventurine didn’t bother responding to that. He picked up his mug - almost a bowl with a handle, really, in shape - and took a careful sip from one side. Predictably, it was still too hot to even taste, and he set the mug back down swiftly.
“Careful,” Ratio cautioned, poking at his order with a small spoon, dripping brown liquid over the ice cream. “Don’t burn yourself.”
“I’m not, I’m not,” Aventurine dismissed him. “I’m just testing it. Gotta figure out how long to wait somehow.”
Ratio hummed, eyes on his own cup. Aventurine stirred his drink carefully, then lazily, watching the foam heart break apart. Somehow it hurt a little this time, no matter how much of a habit the action was.
“What did you even order, anyways?” Aventurine asked when he felt the quiet had stretched on too long again. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Traditionally, an affogato is espresso poured over gelato and allowed to combine,” he explained. The teacher voice was automatic, and for today, kind of soothing. “Vanilla is the expected flavor, but there are other items one could add, such as berries or honeycomb. Pairing hot espresso with cold gelato brings both to a pleasant temperature swiftly without the watery effects of ice.”
“Sounds like dessert to me,” Aventurine teased. Tried to tease, anyways. It lacked the usual energy, sounding almost wistful to his own ears.
“Generally it is,” Ratio said, “but there’s no reason why it can’t be taken at other times. I decided that now would be perfectly reasonable.”
“So that’s why you’re upset about the muffin,” Aventurine said with a grin. “You wanted to eat your afternoon dessert while I had mine.”
Ratio blushed. It was faint, but it was there. “Perhaps,” he said stiffly, but Aventurine could barely hear over the sound of his heart doing backflips in his chest. He’d seen Ratio blushing before, usually in pretty similar contexts to this, but when Aventurine was getting ready to confess--
Ratio’s eyes shifted to him, and Aventurine abruptly looked down at his drink again, his own face heating up now. “Sure,” he said lamely.
The quiet was awkward almost immediately. Aventurine struggled not to fidget in his seat, not to tap his toes or drum his fingers on the table, biting the inside of his lip to try and keep his stirring even instead of violent. He could hear himself breathing so loud, it was a miracle his head was only a little bit fuzzy. Did he need more air? It didn’t feel like he was lacking, his fingers and toes all felt right, but trying to figure out what to say was…
Ratio shattered the silence this time. “You seem preoccupied,” he said, level and impassive. “Share what’s on your mind with me. Discussing a problem can be enlightening.”
Aventurine looked up from the mug of crushed-away foam. Any other day, he would have poked and teased, reminded the doctor of his stance on hearing out other people’s problems. But not today. Now or never.
“You said you’d been considering me,” he started. His voice sounded hesitant, uncertain, and he was. “You said that a while ago. What… exactly, were you looking for?”
Ratio’s gaze drifted over his shoulder. Aventurine wasn’t sure what was behind him, but if Ratio didn’t want to look at him, then - fine. That was fine. “I haven’t been looking for anything specific,” the doctor said after a few moments of consideration, now speaking carefully. “Rather, I have been trying to assess you fairly, as the man you are, not the man I perceived you to be in the beginning. Clearing one’s preconceptions from time to time is essential for maintaining an accurate understanding of the material. Why do you ask?”
“Because I…” He looked down at his drink again, scratching softly in front of one ear, fighting the urge to clear his throat. “That is, I’ve been… thinking about you too, lately. And I wanted to know what you’ve been thinking about me.”
Just below his eyebrows, Aventurine could see Ratio’s gaze flick back towards him. He could see something wavering in those bleeding-sun eyes, and he almost couldn’t bear to figure out what it was.
“I’ve thought a number of things,” Ratio said, pinkie finger twitching against the table. “You fascinate me. Whether you’re present or absent, my thoughts keep returning to you, and to the things you’ve allowed me to see that clearly aren’t for everyone’s eyes. Though if you’re asking presently what I think of you, then… I must admit to new curiosity.” His other hand pulled his spoon up, poured brown-white liquid over the lump again. “What have you been thinking of me?”
Aventurine swallowed. He was so tempted to grab his muffin and stuff it in his mouth to buy himself time. “What I think,” he said, willing his voice not to waver, “is that I want more of you in my life. Not…”
He took a deep breath. Now or never. “I don’t mean I want you around as a business partner more often. I don’t know what to call it, just… I like it when you’re next to me. I like it when you’re in my space, I like the way you talk to me, and - I don’t want things to be weird, just - I like having you here. It feels nice. That’s what I’ve been thinking.”
Aventurine kept his eyes fixed on his coffee, swallowed again, braced himself for rejection. So much for not going all-in right away. So much for Jade’s good advice. So much for not scaring away the best person in his life who he’d been crushing on for years and been just fine and now everything was probably ruined. So much for--
Something bumped the back of Aventurine’s ankle and he jolted, shooting up straight in his seat and - on accident - looking at Ratio again. There was something so complicated on his face, something like fear and something like hope and something like so many things. The thing gently brushed his ankle again and Aventurine realized it was Ratio’s foot, trying to hook around him under the table.
“If that is what you think, Aventurine,” he said softly, “then it would be my privilege to accompany you. We will be… whatever suits us, and we can find a name that fits the reality after. I expect it may be difficult to balance this with our working positions, but--”
Aventurine shifted and locked Ratio’s ankle between his legs. “That’s okay,” he said, stressing his words more than he really meant to. “We can handle that. We can keep work professional enough to get things done, I’ve gotten good at not letting feelings get in my way like that, and it’s not like Jade’s going to stop me. As long as we meet all our targets, it’s gonna be fine.”
“And what of the rest of your superiors?” Ratio asked, sounding more vulnerable than Aventurine had ever expected he’d hear. “What of mine? There’s no guarantee they’d all overlook the ethical complications of allowing highly-ranked officials with a close personal relationship to continue working in an underregulated, nearly unobservable arrangement--”
“They will,” Aventurine cut him off firmly. “They’re going to let us keep working together because I’m not working with anyone else in your place. I’ve spent the last five years not working with anyone else and I’m not gonna start now. The Board wants me going into the field with a Guild representative? The only person who gets to say no is you, Ratio. I’m not above a professional tantrum for that.”
Was it rash? Excessive? Definitely. Would it work? If he got lucky. But he always got lucky. He’d deal with the consequences if it came down to it - in this moment, he had Ratio, and he didn’t feel like letting go for anything.
And seeing the tension in Ratio’s body melt away, part relaxation, part re-settling into what he hoped was fond exasperation? That made his hasty promise feel all worth it.
“Reckless gambler,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “Don’t throw away your position for this. However, if you’re so very confident, then I will concede - provided you don’t feel a need to go shout this from the rooftops.”
“No need for that,” he said, lips settling into his usual confident smile. “I don’t need anyone to know we’re something other than professional. It’s just nice that we know.”
And it did feel nice. Really, it felt like he wasn’t carrying an entire mountain on his back anymore - he didn’t know what to do now that he felt this light, but he felt like he could have danced his way back home. It wasn’t like his normal gambles. It wasn’t going to fade and leave him hollow in the aftermath, impossible to satisfy. This - this was the victory normal people got to feel. For once, just this once, he knew he’d be able to keep this feeling all for himself.
Aventurine tugged off his gloves and reached for his mystery muffin, declaring the conversation done with the crinkle of the wrapper coming off. He picked the pastry up, turned it back and forth briefly to inspect it, then bit off a small chunk of the top. He chewed it slowly, contemplating his options, before finally deciding that this nutty sense was probably either peanut butter or hazelnut.
More than that, though, a different happiness was threading through his chest. He would know he was smiling even if he couldn’t feel his face anymore, he would know his legs wanted to swing even if they went numb, and the hardest to suppress was always the quiet happy humming. And Aventurine had not lost any sensation. There was something about picking big food up with his hands and eating it that always took him back home, back to the Avgins, back to his sister’s loving care. It was something he kept secret, hidden from a world that liked to pry out his happy memories and shatter them, but he did still like to indulge.
And would it be so strange to be smiling? He was on a date right now, and he didn’t need to deny that anymore. He had asked Ratio out on a date and confessed his messy, uncertain feelings and Ratio had said yes. This was the success of an ordinary life, the high of an ordinary man, tangling his legs with his doctor’s and eating a good muffin and drinking good coffee when it cooled, and if he could also feel the desert wind on the back of his neck and imagine a time before he’d been branded, he didn’t have to admit to it. He could just be happy.
He didn’t know when he’d closed his eyes, but something touched his face and they snapped back open, Aventurine leaning back automatically. Ratio, undeterred from brandishing a napkin in his face, leaned forward, bent over the table to reach him.
“Hold still,” the doctor snapped. “You have frosting on your nose.”
Heat crept up the back of Aventurine’s neck. “Ah,” he said sheepishly, lowering the muffin and letting Ratio wipe him clean. “Thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome,” he huffed, sitting back down and folding the napkin against the table. “Don’t be undignified with your food.”
“Got it.” Aventurine took another bite, careful of the icing, and chewed slowly again. “I think… something nutty and cinnamon. It works.”
Ratio lifted his cup and sipped at the coffee-sweetness mixture. “They do seem to have some skill,” he agreed. “Your drink is likely cool now too, with how aggressively you stirred it.”
“Probably.” Aventurine dug into the muffin in earnest, no longer analyzing the flavors. “This first, though.”
If Ratio sighed into his cup, he chose to hear it as fondness. Other patrons came and left around them; their conversations rolled over the pair, unintelligible in the face of their bubble of bliss. Warm food and drink and nice company could bolster their hearts and minds, and there was nothing around Pier Point that could possibly stop the pair - whatever they were to each other now - from savoring this peace and security together.