Work Text:
Title: What is marriage?
“Professor, may I have a bit of your time?”
Ratio paused as he turned around to face his lab assistant. A young man in his late 20s. Despite his naïve appearance, he’s one of the few who is resilient and bright enough to keep up with Ratio’s spartan like lab research projects.
“What is it? Time is ticking.”
The brunette mentally winced. He had not meant to sound snappy. Aventurine often teased him about being a grump 24/7. He shook his head, why did Aventurine’s opinion even matter at this moment?
Perhaps it’s because of Aventurine’s last message to him an hour ago.
A text to meet at their usual bar. It was an unusual request as the blond doesn’t usually text to politely request a meet-up. So Ratio knew something was out of ordinary with the gambler.
“Ah, my apologies. I wish to request a temporary leave for a few days because I need to return back to my hometown.” The lab assistant smiled boyishly. “I’m preparing for my wedding.”
The word wedding caused Ratio to pause his worrying thoughts on Aventurine.
Wedding?
The word was so foreign to his busy life of theorems, research, projects and lessons that it stumped the scholar a bit.
“I see. Very well, you may take your leave. Do discuss with the others to assign who can assist in continuing your part of the research.”
“Thank you, sir! I will!”
Ratio nodded and was about to grab his coat to leave when the lab assistant came back.
“I’ll be sure to send you our wedding invitation!”
Ratio blinked again.
“You’re inviting… me?”
“Of course! My fiancé has heard so much about you, Professor. I’ve always wanted to introduce you properly — the mentor I look up to. It’s such an honor to work under you.”
He was practically glowing.
“It would mean a lot if you and your partner could attend.”
And before Ratio could respond, he hurried off, excitement carrying him down the hall.
Ratio was left stunned on the spot.
Usually, his lab assistants avoided lingering around him longer than necessary. Ratio’s strict standards and sharp tongue were enough to keep most of them at a respectful distance. Yet this particular assistant was unusually warm and open. Peculiar. Almost as peculiar as Aventurine, who, for reasons Ratio still could not comprehend, seemed to enjoy his company.
“Wedding…”
Ratio murmured as he promptly wore his coat and took out his keys.
“He looks happy…”
In the car, he checked his phone to read Aventurine’s last text to him.
‘Doc, wanna come over and have a drink we with me? See you at the bar. I’ll be there until midnight.’
Ratio hated to admit it, but the two of them had been spending quite a bit of time together lately — enough for him to recognize Aventurine’s moods even through a short text message.
He was not entirely sure what to call whatever existed between them.
They were not friends.
And yet, there was a certain companionable ease whenever they met at the bar.
Aventurine would talk about his day — trivial office gossip, the occasional absurd encounter — and Ratio would listen, offering dry commentary when necessary.
More often than not, their conversations drifted into spirited debates, especially when Aventurine deliberately challenged him just to watch him argue.
On rarer evenings, however, the blond would grow quieter and bring up heavier matters, phrasing them as if he were merely seeking a second opinion.
Ratio was reluctant to acknowledge that those evenings — their shared drinks and discussions — had become one of the few indulgences he genuinely looked forward to, aside from the predictability of bathing with his rubber duckies and reading at home.
He sometimes wondered why Aventurine chose to spend his time with him at all, when even his assistants and students rarely lingered longer than required
Shaking the thought away, Ratio started the engine.
Wedding invitations could wait. A particular peacock had requested his presence, and something in that brief message suggested this would not be a routine consultation.
Ratio had long since learned to notice when the feathers were not fanned in their usual brilliance.
============
“Doc~ you’re finally here.”
The bar was dimmer than usual that evening. Only a few scattered patrons occupied the far corners, their low conversations blending with the soft clink of glassware. The air carried the faint scent of alcohol and something stale, as if the night had lingered too long.
Ratio’s gaze immediately found the source of the voice.
Aventurine was slumped against the counter, one elbow propped carelessly on the wood, his usual sharp posture nowhere to be seen. A half-empty glass rested near his fingers.
Ratio frowned.
Aventurine looked wasted.
And that was alarming.
Unlike Ratio, Aventurine could hold his liquor with irritating ease.
He was also not someone who ever allowed himself to appear vulnerable in public.
His guard was usually flawless — his poker face smile precise, his eyes calculating.
Tonight, that precision was gone.
The bartender glanced up as Ratio approached. Recognition flickered across his face, followed by something that looked suspiciously like relief. He gave a small nod toward Aventurine, as if silently passing over responsibility.
Ratio’s jaw tightened.
Without hesitation, he took the stool beside the blond.
“What sloppy appearance. Did you drink all the wine here, Gambler?”
“Ouch, doc. A little hello and how are you would have been nice instead of criticizing how I look.”
Aventurine smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.
Ratio signaled the bartender for his usual before turning back to him.
Up close, the faint flush on the blond’s cheeks and the dullness in his gaze were impossible to ignore.
“So,” Aventurine continued lightly, swirling what remained in his glass, “it’s unusual for the great Veritas Ratio to be late for our drinking date. What made you late?”
“We’re not dating.”
Aventurine let out a short laugh, though his eyes remained fixed on Ratio’s face.
“I said drinking date, not dating date, doc. Don’t tell me you thought I meant something else.”
He tilted his head slightly, watching for a reaction.
“Or were you hoping we’re some kind of couple?”
It sounded like a joke. It was meant to.
But the question lingered between them for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Ratio shot him a flat look before taking a measured sip.
“I was held back by a subordinate who requested time off. He’s preparing for his wedding.”
The teasing curve at the corner of Aventurine’s lips stilled.
For a second, he simply stared at his glass, as if the word had not fully registered.
Then he blinked.
“Oh?” he said lightly — too lightly. “Did he look all bright and hopeful?”
Ratio watched him carefully.
“He was… content.”
Aventurine’s fingers tightened around the stem of his glass.
“I’m sure he was.”
He laughed, but the sound was thin, brittle at the edges.
Ratio did not miss the way the blond’s shoulders had subtly tensed.
“What’s with that reply?” he asked evenly.
“Hmm?” Aventurine blinked again, as if dragged back from somewhere else. “Nah. I just find it funny you mentioned wedding preparations because…”
He lowered his gaze and began swirling what little remained in his wine, watching the liquid cling to the sides before sliding down.
“One of my employees asked for leave today as well,” he continued, tone deliberately casual. “Not for a honeymoon. For a lawyer.”
Ratio glanced at him but didn’t interrupt.
“Divorce,” Aventurine continued with a small hum. “Child custody too. Very tedious paperwork, I imagine. She was apologizing as if it were a personal inconvenience to me.”
He gave a soft chuckle, but it didn’t quite reach his lavender eyes.
“I told her to take tomorrow off as well. Might as well finish dismantling a life in one go, right?”
A pause.
“She thanked me like I’d done her some grand favor.” Aventurine tipped his head. “Funny. A few years ago she was glowing about wedding preparations. Showed me photos. Flowers, venue, all that.”
He finally took a sip.
“People promise forever so easily, doc.” A faint smile curved his lips. “Then one day they sit across from a lawyer and divide it into percentages.”
He shrugged.
“Seems like a risky investment.”
Ratio took another sip of his drink.
Right now he just let Aventurine talk.
“Hey, Ratio,” Aventurine murmured after a pause, the rim of his glass resting lightly against his lower lip. “For a smart guy like you… what do you think marriage is all about?”
Ratio turned fully toward him this time, studying his expression instead of the drink in his hand.
“What about your thoughts on it?” he asked calmly.
Aventurine huffed a quiet laugh, though his gaze lingered a second too long before drifting away.
“Hey, doc, that’s cheating. I asked the question first.” He nudged the glass slightly forward on the counter. “Don’t turn this into one of your pre-discussion warm-ups.”
He signaled the bartender to make him a new drink. Probably his 5th now.
Ratio was tempted to stop him from drinking further but restrained himself.
Why was he feeling protective all of a sudden?
“Well… what is marriage, huh?”
The blond’s flushed face turned away, as though Ratio’s gaze had suddenly grown too sharp to withstand.
“Did you know my sister was almost married once?” He said all of a sudden. “She turned him down. Said I was more troublesome than a husband. I was a rascal back then. I’d pick fight with the guards and running around as if there wasn’t a war going on.”
He chuckled but there was no humour to his voice.
“My Kaa` would always say she’s not interested to be a Binn`. But I remember… I remembered how she used to look at her best friend when they sew the fabrics together.”
He smiled at Ratio.
“There were no boutiques back then, doc. So we had to do everything by hand. There wasn’t enough Linn` for a proper dress.”
He paused as if a memory flickered behind his eyes.
“…She used to cut up her own pieces for mine... Seriously, that girl.”
Aventurine looked down at his branded clothes with a bitter smile.
“She shouldn’t have done that… She was always cold.”
Ratio listened.
This was the first time he heard Aventurine slipped into his mother tongue.
The consonant structure repeated.
The vowel softened when he said Kaa`.
The final word carried warmth.
He could make out the probable meaning of the foreign words but he was more distracted by the blond’s melodic like whispers.
“The guy promised he’d ask for her hand again after the war.”
Then he had that faraway look again, “Promised to make her as his Binn`. Build a Kell` together. Have Kann` together.”
Aventurine was quiet for a moment.
“Well, what do you know? War is terrible for scheduling weddings.”
He took a chug from his glass. Then signaled the bartender for another.
“Enough, Aventurine.”
Ratio turned his body to face the blond then raised his hand to signal the bartender not to comply.
Aventurine noticed. He just didn’t comment.
His mind was mostly in the past.
Back when he was that naïve, 6 year old.
Recalling how she hummed while cooking.
How she kept looking at the necklace that the man crafted for her.
How the necklace was never worn.
“…She should’ve been someone’s bride. Not stuck babysitting a menace.”
Aventurine looked at him.
They soften.
Too open.
Too honest.
Then he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
The poker face mask clicked back in.
“So! Enough about me, doc. Where were we? Oh right, we were talking what is marriage, right?”
Aventurine tried to sound cheery like he’s putting on a show.
“Your lab assistant is going to tie the knot soon right? Well, congratulations to him.”
Ratio nodded but his eyes remained sharp, studying Aventurine like an owl.
“Yes, he even promised to send me a wedding invitation card. I could bring along a partner if I wish.”
“Woah! That guy must be something to invite a grump like you.” Aventurine laughed, “So who’ll be the lucky partner you’re going to bring to the wedding event? One of your Rubber Duck Debugging pals? Hm?”
It was subtle but Ratio noticed the forced tone from Aventurine when he mentioned partner.
“You seem quite invested on who I’ll bring to the event.”
“Ah come on, I was just a little curious.”
Aventurine blushed before his gaze drifted to one direction.
“Marriage… is supposed to be where one build a new life together with your Binn`… but it’s kinda scary, right? One moment you’re happy tying the knot and then the next, everything collapses. It doesn’t make sense anymore.”
Aventurine slumped against the bar table.
“So, what’s the point of calling it forever?”
“Formally, marriage is a mutual agreement.”
Aventurine couldn’t help but smile a bit.
“That’s such a you answer.”
Ratio ignored him then continued.
“…To reach a conclusion of what defines a marriage, a lot of observations must be taken for different variables.”
“Variables?”
“My lab assistant was hopeful to begin his new life with his partner. Your subordinate ended her marriage for the sake of her children. Without her partner. Just because one or two end in divorce doesn’t mean the other successful marriages are invalid. It’s premature to assume all married couples will fail.”
Aventurine was silent then tried to joke.
“Why do I feel like I just got scolded, doc.”
Ratio ignored him a second time and sipped his drink.
Aventurine thought about it then chuckled bitterly.
“I’m not trying to be all doom and gloom, doc. I’m just saying betting your future over someone who may walk away anytime is a risk nobody can bet on.”
He slowly reached out and tugged at Ratio’s sleeve.
“Just because most relationships succeed, that didn’t mean other relationships would not fail. But Ratio, things will be gone overnight. One day your Kaa` is beside you and the next she yelled at you to run away. And she’s gone. How can you expect your partner, one you swore to spend the rest of your days with, won’t be gone too?”
Ratio was calm, he didn’t pull his hand away.
Instead, he gently grasped Aventurine’s trembling wrist.
“Aventurine, you used to boast about betting everything away. Even your life. Shouting ‘All or Nothing’ with that infuriatingly smug look of yours.”
The younger man tried to backtrack, his gaze slipping away.
“That was just a show, doc… part of the job.”
Ratio’s thumb traced slow, grounding circles against his wrist.
“I know.”
Aventurine forgot to breathe.
“It’s true,” Ratio continued quietly, “that something very dear to you can be gone overnight.”
The words struck too close. Aventurine stilled.
“But you don’t have to perform around me.”
Silence settled between them.
“Marriage vows aren’t permanent,” Ratio went on, voice steady. “Marriage is only a title. There are people who remain together without ever naming it.”
His grip tightened just enough to keep Aventurine present.
“Then…” Aventurine swallowed, his voice smaller than before. “Then what do we call… this?”
Ratio met his eyes without hesitation.
“…I leave the label to you, Aventurine.”
“Are… are you serious?”
“If it’s you, I always am.”
Aventurine stared at him.
The noise of the bar seemed to dull around them.
He almost wanted to laugh.
Or flee.
Or both.
Almost on instinct, he slid his pink sunglasses back into place.
Then his hat.
“W-Well, see ya.”
He barely made it a step before Ratio caught his wrist.
The bartender glanced over at the sudden movement. Their eyes met briefly. Understanding flickered there, and he quietly turned away, polishing a glass that did not need polishing.
Aventurine did not pull free.
“Ratio…” His voice dropped. “You’re making a bad bet here. You’re the smart one. You should know better than... to gamble on someone like me.”
For a brief, irrational second, Ratio felt something dangerously close to instability.
How curious.
Of all variables in his life, only this one refused to remain predictable.
His grip did not loosen.
“I’m serious, Aventurine,” he said evenly. “If variables change, I adjust.”
Aventurine stared at him.
“…you’re going to make me cry, doc.”
His laugh came out uneven. He pulled his hand back slightly — not enough to break contact, just enough to create space.
“You know I have three clingy cats, right? They’re territorial. You’ll need their approval before you can even sit on my couch.”
He sniffed once and continued quickly, words tripping over each other.
“And I take the left side of the bed. I snore. Loudly. You won’t survive a week.”
Ratio said nothing.
Aventurine pressed on, as if speed could outrun vulnerability.
“My cooking is lethal. We’ll both end up poisoned. Seriously, you can still let me go and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”
His voice softened on the last sentence.
The laugh that followed wavered. His fingers tightened faintly against Ratio’s hand — as if bracing for it to slip away.
Ratio did not release him.
“Are you finished listing inconveniences?” he asked quietly.
Ratio rose from the stool then, removing his own coat in one smooth motion.
Without ceremony, he draped it over Aventurine’s shoulders.
The fabric was heavier than his own. Warmer.
It carried a different scent.
Soap and pages of books.
Not smoke.
Not fear.
Just him.
The gesture was unhurried. Certain.
Familiar.
Not temporary.
Aventurine’s breath hitched.
For a fleeting second, the warmth felt achingly familiar — like gentle hands tugging worn cloth higher over his shoulders to shield him from the night.
Only this time, no one was left shivering in his place.
His throat tightened.
“You shouldn’t…” he murmured. “She gave up everything for me.”
His fingers curled weakly into the fabric of Ratio’s coat.
“She could’ve had her own Kell`. Her own Binn`. She lost all that… because of me.”
His voice faltered.
“I don’t get to be the one who’s happy. It’s… not fair for her….”
Ratio’s arm tightened slightly around his back.
“That is not how fairness works.”
Aventurine stilled.
“Your sister chose you,” Ratio continued evenly. “You were not a loss. You were someone she loved.”
His hand remained steady.
“Your conclusion is built on faulty premises,” Ratio said evenly.
“If she endured the cold so you could live,” he continued, voice lowering, “it would be remarkably foolish of you to remain freezing out of principle.”
Aventurine did not respond.
“It only wastes what she protected.”
For a moment, Aventurine’s fingers remained curled in the fabric of Ratio’s coat.
Then he exhaled slowly.
“You always did have a way of turning everything into a thesis defense, didn’t you?” he muttered.
He lifted his head slightly, violet-blue eyes still bright but steadier now.
“Calling me foolish in such elegant vocabulary… how unfair.”
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Fine. Suppose I accept your argument, Professor. What are the odds this bet of yours doesn’t bankrupt you?”
Ratio regarded him for a second.
Then — just barely — the corner of his lips curved with a fond smile.
He gave a small shake of his head.
“I do not engage in wagers I cannot sustain.”
He signaled the bartender to put the bill under his tab.
Aventurine blinked then frowned as he reached for his black card.
“Hey, you don’t have to do that.”
Ratio did not even look at him, taking out his own black card.
“I am aware.”
Aventurine huffed softly.
“I can pay for my own drinks, you know.”
Ratio finally glanced at him.
“I have no doubt.”
A beat.
“Nevertheless, it would be poor etiquette to invite someone into a partnership and leave him with the invoice.”
This time Aventurine blushed, not because of the drinks but due to his fast heart beat.
“For once the House won, huh?”
As they stepped into the cool night air toward Ratio’s car, their hands still linked, the question of what marriage meant no longer felt quite so frightening.
Aventurine glanced sideways at him.
“So… about that wedding invitation,” he drawled lightly. “Do I get to be your plus one?”
Ratio unlocked the car without missing a step.
“You appear to have already assumed the position.”
Aventurine’s smile widened.
“Mm. Fair enough.”
Perhaps it was not a ceremony, nor a promise written on paper.
Perhaps it was simply choosing to stay.
And tonight, they had chosen each other.
The End.