Chapter Text
“I have a business proposition,” Aventurine says.
Of course he does. That is the nature of their relationship as business partners. Aventurine brings the propositions and the money. Veritas brings the research and common sense.
“Continue,” Veritas says, because Aventurine seems to be waiting for it, and he is a despicable little man when he wants to be.
“I have just been put in charge of the account of a little, little planet named Lajaine. Heard of it?” He cocks his head to the side, a devilish smile on his face, gloved fingers walking across Veritas’ desk with every word he speaks. It’s maddening, but Aventurine often is.
Veritas rests his chin on his hand as he thinks about it. It sounds vaguely familiar, but there are a good very many planets that aren’t worth his time. “In passing. Continue,” he repeats. Aventurine has an annoying habit of taking too long to get to the point.
“Right. Now, I need to head off there to do a little account checking, so to speak. Make sure it’s all squeaky clean. Routine stuff - except I’ve hit a little, little snag.” He pauses for dramatic effect. Veritas refuses to give him the satisfaction and simply raises an eyebrow. “I am, as you may not be aware, single.”
That does get the dramatic pause that Aventurine was clearly angling for. Veritas bites the bait. “Pray tell, what relevance does that have to this conversation and situation at hand?”
“As you may know, the Lajainese worship The Harmony.” Aventurine’s fingers have run out of desk to walk over, and he lays his hand flat and slides it back to where it began so casually it wraps back round to being artistic. Ridiculous man. “In particular, they worship romantic relationships. Single adults are viewed with suspicion, and they’re stereotyped as boogeymen.”
Veritas catches on the problem immediately. He does not catch on to how this is his issue at all. “You are a part of the IPC. An alien who does not worship The Harmony. I think your status alone negates any issues here.”
Aventurine tuts - something Veritas suspects he’s picked up from him, dear Nous. “This is exactly why I’m the Stoneheart and you’re the technical consultant. Their new accounts manager waltzes in, already a figure viewed with some measure of suspicion - and he’s single? Sure, I could make it work, but that’s just sloppy, Ratio.”
“Then I suggest you find a partner rather quickly. You’ve often boasted of your silver tongue, perhaps you could put it to work instead of wasting time in my office,” Veritas deadpans. He doesn’t mean it, of course - jabs for the sake of jabs. Aventurine is free to waste time in his office as long as it is between his office hours. And Aventurine is free to find himself a partner, even if Veritas would prefer he not.
“Just string someone along for the sake of one business trip and break their heart after?” Aventurine leans back in his chair and purses his lips in a low whistle. “Damn doc, that’s cold. Didn’t think you were the type.”
Veritas scowls, as it is unfortunately a movement deeply ingrained in his facial muscles from years of working in academia. “Then take another Stoneheart with you. Or some low-ranking IPC lapdog who’s desperate for a promotion.”
Aventurine leans forward sharply, almost comically so given he just leaned back, and puts one hand back on his desk. Thankfully this time there are no more fingers doing walkies. “Why do you think I’m telling you this, Ratio?”
Oh.
Veritas’ heart picks up a notch, but he keeps his face carefully neutral. Surely - surely not. Veritas is not known for either his acting skills or his ability to be in romantic relationships, and for good reason. It is too late for him to acquire either, he suspects.
But he cannot see why else Aventurine would bother to seek him out to tell him this information.
Does Aventurine know?
No - of course not. That is precisely why he would suggest such a thing.
“I am neither a Stoneheart nor a lapdog chasing an IPC promotion,” he says. “If you sincerely believe that I am either, I suggest you immediately resign and consider enrolling in a school. Primary school would be best suited for someone at that cognitive level.”
Aventurine lets out one of his airy laughs that he likes to use at business meetings. “You think I could get another Stoneheart to do it? You think too highly of me, doc. And don’t worry,” Aventurine leans in conspiratorially, “I don’t think of you as just an IPC lapdog. I need someone better than that who I can actually trust. What do you say? You won’t have to do much except put on a ring and share a room. Free vacation, all on the IPC’s credit. And I hear Lajaine has some interesting sights to see.”
Veritas crosses his arms and leans back. He doubts it would be much of a holiday, what with Aventurine’s business habits. Even if he is pretending to be Aventurine’s romantic partner. What sort of pretence is Aventurine expecting from him? Presumably nothing except sharing a room, like he said, but Veritas lets his mind conjure up long-forbidden images of them kissing in dark corners.
“And what did your predecessor do in such instances?” Veritas asks to divert them both.
Aventurine shrugs. “He’s married, so he didn't have to resort to any kind of subterfuge.”
“I see.” Veritas pretends to think about something deeply. “I still don’t quite understand why you’re asking me as opposed to any one of the great number of work colleagues you have.”
Aventurine cocks his head to the side, just a tiny amount, and smiles. It makes Veritas feel as though he’s missing something, but that isn’t an unusual feeling when Aventurine is involved. “Well, I do admit that you’re not the first person I’ve asked.”
Oh. Of course, that makes perfect sense - how preposterous of Veritas, to assume that he would be asked before anyone else! He wonders how far down the list he is, how many people did Aventurine ask before he had to scrape the bottom of the barrel with Veritas?
How many other people… would Aventurine rather claim as his spouse or romantic partner instead of Veritas? How many other people has Aventurine imagined holding hands with?
But again, he shouldn't be surprised. It is so very like him to be the last picked for any sort of relationship. Really, he ought to be mollified that Aventurine even considered him capable of anything resembling romance at all, it is far more leeway than anyone else has ever given him.
Aventurine stands up, and clears his throat into his hand. “Right. Sorry to bother you, doc.”
“You are never sorry to bother me,” Veritas comments dryly. “I haven’t given you an answer yet.”
Aventurine blinks, apparently surprised, easygoing smile plastered onto his face.
Veritas plans to accept. His… personal relationship with Aventurine aside, it is good to have a favour from the IPC in his pocket. Not to mention, a holiday entirely on the IPC’s wallet is not something one gets the offer of every week.
He taps his pen against his desk in a mimicry of deep thought. Just because he plans to accept doesn’t mean that he will tell Aventurine as such. Being too eager would betray too many things about him.
“What dates do you have in mind?” He asks.
Aventurine visibly brightens, flittering back into his usual self. “Well, I’m flexible but I can’t make them wait too long. Next week?”
Veritas brings up his calendar and flicks through it. One week is short notice, though he supposes if Aventurine has been asking other people that’s been eating into the time. How long has it been since Aventurine started asking people? And if Veritas declines, who will he ask next?
“Week after next,” he counters. “For how long?”
Aventurine shrugs, looking sheepish. Veritas is sure he does not actually feel sheepish. “How long’s a piece of string, doc?”
Veritas tuts. “You are asking me to drop everything I have on right now for a holiday that will be an indeterminable amount of time?”
“I mean, I don’t think it’ll be longer than a week. Honestly doc, the trip there is so annoying that less than a week is barely worth it. Plus you know how anal IPC paperwork is.”
Veritas does. He has no doubt that as a new account manager, Aventurine will be swamped with all manner of things.
He taps his pen once, but decisively. “Very well. If I desire to leave earlier, I shall. After all, I will have demonstrated to the people of Lajaine that you have a partner and will be no longer needed.”
Aventurine purses his lips - the only sign of his displeasure before he corrects himself. “Well, if that's your only stipulation…”
“It is not. We depart in two weeks’ time, not one.”
Veritas knows he is pushing his luck here. But he also knows that logically, if Aventurine has come to him with this sort of request, he must be desperate. There may not even be anyone Aventurine knows who is worse at acting and romance.
Aventurine whistles. “Well, you drive a hard bargain doc, but sure. Just don’t up and leave after only one night, that’ll make me look bad.”
“You have my word.” He stands up and holds out his hand. Aventurine practically springs forward, his hand warm and soft and small in Veritas’. Veritas already knows not to underestimate his grip - Aventurine’s diminutive size hides his true strength.
“Excellent!” Aventurine shakes his hand eagerly, grip so tight Ratio can feel the pressure in his bones. “I’ll send you a whole dossier on the planet, so you don’t even have to worry about that. And I’ll come up with the whole cover story too, so you’ll just have to remember it.”
“Good.” Veritas would not excel at that - the cover story, not the research - but he knows that Aventurine is never sloppy when he makes his dossiers, and there probably is little point covering the same ground twice for something as routine as this. Technically, this is not supposed to be an actual work function for Veritas, so he feels no shame at not pulling his weight. “I expect it by the end of this week.”
“I’ll have it sooner than that,” Aventurine promises, because he is a ridiculous man who likes to one-up expectations.
Veritas detangles his hand from Aventurine’s, and sits back down. “Very well. Is that all you require from me today?”
He expects as much when Aventurine nods his head. “Don't worry doc, I can see myself out,” he chirps.
“I certainly hope so,” Veritas deadpans. His office is hardly a labyrinth, and Aventurine is hardly blind.
Aventurine hesitates by the door, and for a second, Veritas thinks he might say something, but whatever it is, he must change his mind because in the next second he is gone. The door clicks decisively behind him.
Veritas stares at it for a moment. In a weird way, he feels as though he’s conned Aventurine, because if Aventurine knew the truth - that Veritas is horribly and unceasingly attracted to him - he would never have approached him with this proposition.
But he doesn’t know, and now Veritas has to pretend that he’s ever had a romantic relationship before. He would say that it can’t be that hard - billions of people have had successful romantic relationships without prior research or experience - but Veritas is keenly aware that he is not like even billions of other people.
His attraction to Aventurine at least here should be a boon, for once in its existence.
Aventurine is true to his word, and Veritas soon receives a metaphorically thick dossier. It details some basic history of the planet - it was an underperforming IPC colony for a long time, and drifted away for a time, and now is being brought back into the fold - as well as basics on the customs. Obviously, the main one being focused on is the insistence of people finding ‘the one’ and the failure of such enough for social exile.
There’s also some details on the previous account holder, though Veritas doesn’t recognise the name. He doesn’t recognise the department that they were with either, though it being dissolved is what caused the account to eventually fall into Aventurine’s lap, so maybe that’s not surprising.
Veritas chews on all that, does some basic research of his own, and formally pencils in his new romantic getaway on his calendar.
Less than a week before they’re meant to leave, Aventurine schedules a work lunch together. To go over information, he writes in the email. It sounds entirely reasonable, and Veritas does like to preen his own feathers a little when he has a singular social engagement, so he lets Aventurine pick all the details.
It’s a nice place, if niceness was directly correlated to price, as all of Aventurine’s picks are. Aventurine is already there when Veritas arrives, fitting in as though it’s effortless. It is very much not effortless for Veritas, and he often feels out of place in these sort of establishments.
But he has known Aventurine long enough that he has been to this place before, so at least he does not feel like a complete imposter when he takes his seat opposite Aventurine.
They do their usual greetings, they order. Aventurine pulls out a manila folder with a few pages tucked inside. It’s old fashioned, but it warms Veritas’ heart all the same. He has always liked Aventurine’s propensity for printing out information like this. It is often completely unneeded, but Veritas supposes he likes the romance of the idea.
That no one else finds it romantic in the slightest is not his problem. That he is prone to finding romance in the actions of his coworker is his problem, but his problem alone.
“I’ve drafted a cover story for us both,” Aventurine says as he tugs out a piece of paper out of the folder with a dramatic flourish. “We’ve recently gotten engaged! Two months now, but we’ve been dating for four years.”
Veritas just nods, an unusual feeling in his chest. An engagement is far easier to fake than a marriage, yet confers the commitment that Aventurine needs. It makes perfect sense.
Veritas has never been married, or engaged, or even dated. He only has friends in the loosest definition of the word and has never managed to go beyond that.
It’s not real, of course, but the idea that he could have successfully bagged anyone, let alone someone like Aventurine - someone uniquely fascinating and beautiful in equal measure - is pleasant yet strange. He can imagine Aventurine being the person by his side at parties or functions - he would fit perfectly into the social aspects of Veritas’ life just as perfectly as he would fit somewhere like Veritas’ apartment.
But of course he would. A decent chunk of Aventurine’s job is fitting perfectly into places. Veritas is aware that if this was real, he would want to show off their relationship.
But it’s not real. There will be no showing off.
“They might ask you questions about how we got together or relationship milestones, so I’ve made some up too,” Aventurine continues, as he is unaware of Veritas’ train of thought. “But I’ve tried to keep it as realistic as possible. Easier for you to remember.”
“Of course,” Veritas says. It is another smart move. Aventurine slides the folder over to Veritas, and he flips through it to skim-read. They met at work - predictable, safe - Aventurine asked him out for a date - seems sensible - their relationship developed in much the same way most do. It’s dry and logical, and Veritas finds himself hating it a little. Would their relationship - if it were real - really be so unremarkable? They are two extraordinary people, prone to doing things in unconventional ways.
Ah, but most relationships look plain from the outside. And he is on the outside of this one, for it is not real.
“It seems adequate enough, at first glance,” Veritas tells Aventurine, who smiles in that unsettling way he often does. Veritas finds it endearing rather than unnerving.
“Just adequate?” Aventurine asks, propping his elbow on the table and his cheek on his palm.
“Yes,” Veritas says, pushing the folder to the side. There will be time later for a more thorough read. He does trust whatever Aventurine has come up with, even if he may not necessarily like it. “I will give you my full thoughts after I have read it and not before, for reasons I assume I do not need to explain to you.”
“No opinions on what to add or change?” Aventurine pries. “I mean, you do realise you might have to actually talk about some of this stuff?”
“Simpler is usually better in this sort of situation, I imagine,” Veritas says dismissively. What else can one say, really? Is he supposed to have strong opinions on how their fake relationship is supposed to go?
He does, obviously, as a man who has idly imagined it before. But that is his little fantasy, and completely unrelated to reality or whatever business Aventurine is sticking his nose into this time.
Aventurine doesn’t seem particularly enthralled by this, though Veritas isn’t sure why. A lot of people are glad to be spared of Veritas’ strong opinions outside of classrooms or academic conferences.
“Ah, well.” Aventurine pauses, then makes a show of clearing his throat into some garish handkerchief that looks like it costs a teacher’s monthly wage. “If you truly have no questions, friend, we may as well enjoy our meal without such discussions of business.”
Veritas usually likes it when Aventurine says the word friend like it’s some kind of slur. He’s practiced saying it the same way in his bathroom. But usually it’s directed at people that are not him. He finds he prefers that.
He doesn’t look at the file again until he’s back in his quiet apartment that evening. Lounging on his sofa, he thumbs through their backstory, reads and rereads it.
Tipping his head back and closing his eyes, he wonders what it would be like to actually be asked out on a date by Aventurine. Veritas has been asked on dates before, but never by anyone who’s known him for any length of time, and the people who do ask are usually scared off sooner rather than later. That had been a long time ago anyway, back when he was still a student and before his current reputation had spread. At the time, he’d been happy to avoid the hassle of being asked at all. Now, as an adult, he sometimes wonders what would have happened if he’d said yes just once.
He pictures Aventurine asking if he wants to get drinks together, just the two of them. He’d act confident when he asks, with a pretty smile.
He pictures himself, for the first time in his life, saying yes.
Aventurine would take him somewhere quiet, somewhere a bit dim, somewhere intimate.
Of course, Veritas has been alone with Aventurine many, many times before, but he can’t help but wonder what it would actually be like to be with him like that. A scenario where Veritas can bask in his attention, and where Aventurine is actually interested in just him.
Ah.
It’ll never happen.
Veritas rubs at his eyes, and wonders how he has gotten to the sort of state where he’s fantasising about trite things on his sofa.
Their backstory is woefully boring, but Veritas supposes that he isn’t the sort of man to inspire romance, even if it’s fake.
He tells Aventurine he has no issues to raise. Aventurine confirms no changes to the backstory.
Time ticks ever forward.
Veritas does not see Aventurine again until the day of departure. Aventurine has booked the transport, which means far fancier flights than Veritas would ever shell out for himself, and he gets to enjoy the VIP lounge while he waits for Aventurine to arrive.
Aventurine arrives just the wrong side of early enough, all smiles as he finds Veritas in the lounge and sits opposite him. He looks as confident as ever. Veritas is nervous, though he knows how to hide it.
“Well, doc,” he says, unique eyes glinting from behind his coloured sunglasses. “Let’s toast to a successful trip.”
A harmless suggestion. Veritas indulges him, and lifts his own glass of water, which Aventurine clinks his glass of juice against.
It feels like they're standing on the precipice of something together. Perhaps it is just the pre-holiday mood finally sinking in.
After all, in all likelihood, this will be nothing more than a well-deserved vacation from Veritas’ perspective.