Work Text:
xx
"Trust me, Doc. It'll be worth it," Aventurine goads with all the certainty that this time, like so many others, Ratio will have no choice but to fold. "We've got time to kill and I know I'm not the only one curious to see the limitations of these Dreampools. Hell, if we can establish whether there's any link between what the body experiences in reality versus what it can feel in the Dream, maybe we can nail down some kind of warning sign for these so-called 'random deaths.'"
Ratio levels him with an unimpressed stare, folding his arms before his chest. As if emphasizing his voluptuous assets is going to deter Aventurine from his mission in any shape, way, or form. "That argument is absolutely filled with holes," he retorts, not bothering to hide the unimpressed scowl that accompanies his words. "It is already well-established that physical stimulus affects every dreamer differently. Unlike you to be so sloppy with your proposals, gambler."
Bingo. That, he can work with. Aventurine lets his smile drift in the direction of salacious, stopping just shy of sleazy.
"Mm, funny you should say that, because I've got a rather sloppy hole that I'd like to propose you fill for me."
The resulting look of disgust on Ratio's face is absolutely worth the difficulty increase Aventurine just added to this particular encounter with his favorite fussy professor.
"Must you be so lewd—"
"I'll make this easier for you, Doc." Aventurine waves off his protests, sauntering over to the Dreampool and shucking his coat as he goes, tossing it carelessly towards the sofa. Ratio is still blissfully unaware of the surprise that awaits him. Time for the reveal. "Pay close attention, now. The devil is in the details, as they say."
And with that, he widens his stance before bending forward to rest his gloved hands on the smooth edge of the Dreampool shell, exposing said surprise to Ratio's view.
There is an extremely pointed silence. And then, "Gambler."
Oh, he loves that admonishing tone. That tidy little warning that Ratio's already about to hit his limit. Hearing his nickname rendered with such evocative brushstrokes is already enough to have Aventurine dripping, but then he hears Ratio moving closer. Anticipation curls up his spine. Here we go…
What he doesn't expect is for Ratio to settle into a crouch behind him, reaching up with both hands and spreading open the already dangerously wide slit in the crotch of his expensive designer trousers— as if to confirm there is, indeed, no pesky underwear present to obscure the view of one very eager Pussy of Stratagems.
With the room absolutely silent around them, Ratio's slow, measured inhale doesn't go unnoticed.
"Absolutely not," he says, but Aventurine knows he's already close to folding. A fun, little-known fact about the notoriously stoic Dr. Veritas Ratio is that he is an absolute fucking pushover when it comes to getting his dick wet inside someone he finds utterly aggravating. Or at least, that's what Aventurine has been forced to conclude, given the seemingly direct relation between the level of annoyance Ratio currently feels towards him and the frequency at which Ratio deigns to fuck him.
"Ratio~" He draws out the final vowel. "I already ruined one of my favorite pairs of pants for this. Can't you at least indulge me for a brief experiment?"
"It will not be brief," Ratio shoots back, irritated enough that it's guaranteed he's already bricked up in those well-tailored slacks of his. "Perverted little miscreant."
Aventurine has a brief second to savor his inevitable but well-earned victory before there's a hot tongue on his cunt, dragging from the hood of his cock up to his hole. Good gods, he loves that tongue and the things Ratio knows how to do with it. He allows himself a pleased sigh as Ratio's nose nudges against his ass, already thinking ahead to the next step before he can get too distracted by how badly he's been wanting this for the last several weeks.
"Ahh… alright, so here's the plan. I'm going to bend forward until my— hnn— my hands are in the dream liquid. That should hopefully be enough submersion to get me into the Dreamscape. You're going to stay out here and, ah, fuck me stupid. Simple as."
"You're not meant to enter the Dreampool in any other position than on your back," Ratio pulls back to remind him, but Aventurine's hardly concerned about that.
"Yeah, to avoid the risk of drowning, I know. But that's what you're here for, Doctor. Just keep me bent over in the right position. Whenever you've finished having your fun, just lay me down in the pool like normal and everything— ahh, fuck— will be peachy."
Of course Ratio would decide that midway through his instructions was the prime opportunity to slide two thick fingers inside him. If the doctor thinks Aventurine is an idiot for entrusting his life to him purely for the sake of getting his rocks off, he isn't saying it aloud, at least.
Aventurine's thighs shake, a moan threaded with laughter bubbling up. "Guess you're not wasting any time."
"You really wish to test your ability to gallivant about the Golden Hour while I'm inside you?" Ratio presses, both with his words and his fingers. "The Family has eyes everywhere, let me remind you. While I have taken pains to assure this room is not currently being surveilled, once you set foot in the domain of dreams, all bets are off."
Aventurine shivers at the stretch. He really should go now, before he's too distracted by Ratio's cock to want to leave. "Y-yeah. It'll be fine, I'm counting on it. High stakes, high rewards, remember? Don't worry about me, just consider this carte blanche to have your fun with my eager and— hnn— unresisting body. Just make sure to fuck me hard enough that I can feel it in my sleep, alright, Doc?"
Ratio groans in dismay. "Foolishness," he mutters, but he's already lapping up the slick dripping down his fingers before replacing them inside Aventurine, and fuck, alright. They're doing this.
Laughing at the head-rush that always comes with an especially delicious gamble, Aventurine leans forward into an even deeper bend, sliding his gloved hands down the giant, curved seashell until he's submerged up to his bare forearms in viscous dream fluid. Ratio grips him by the hips with those big, steady hands and chases him forward, his groan muffled against Aventurine's cunt as he licks inside it with filthy desperation.
Aventurine's last conscious thought is, "damn, I shoulda told him he could fuck me in my sleep sooner."
Arriving in the Golden Hour while being pleasured in reality is an interesting experience. Aventurine finds himself quite literally floating to the ground— it takes real, conscious effort to remember to keep his legs pressed together so he doesn't give anyone beneath him a free show. Luckily, nobody seems to pay him much attention, too absorbed in their own pleasurable pursuits. He feels a little bit high, like he's buzzing on something, but that's probably just the result of entering the Dreamscape in a heightened emotional state. Another thing the rule book tells you not to do. Tch. So far, he has no complaints.
Moreover, as soon as his feet alight on the ground, Aventurine senses that telltale tremble in his thighs. The same he felt right before he entered the Dreampool. His legs here aren't shaking, but the ones he left back in reality? Oh, they're quivering, alright. Even better, he can still feel Ratio's tongue inside him, goddess wept. It really worked, to his unerring luck.
And on that note, perhaps he ought to find a quiet corner to continue this little experiment. After all, once Ratio decides to start fingering him again— or gets that obnoxiously large dick out— it might prove somewhat difficult to walk, at least until he acclimates.
Aventurine sets off at a brisk but casual pace, keeping his face set in a placid mask even as he heats up beneath his clothing. That hint of a breeze on his dripping cunt is only adding to the thrill of knowing Ratio is eagerly tongue-fucking his unconscious body back in reality.
Arousal hits like a sledgehammer at that image— Ratio clutching his hips to keep him positioned over the edge of the pool, sucking and licking at him with fervor while he's limp and unable to do anything but take it. Fuck, he should have set up a camera to record before he left.
Traffic noise cuts through the fantasy as something zooms past mere feet from his nose. Aventurine blinks rapidly, realizing he was a few seconds from stepping out into a fairly busy road. That would definitely put a damper on the experiment if he got knocked back out of the Dream that quickly— mostly because Ratio would no doubt be so unimpressed with him that he'd refuse to continue with the Dreampool involved, and that just wouldn't do.
Somewhere to sit down, right. Focus, man. Get serious, as Ratio would say.
He idles onward past Oti Mall, heading towards a restaurant with a semi-crowded veranda. Perfect. A table with a view is exactly what he needs.
In a manner of moments, Aventurine is seated in a spot that allows him to keep an eye on the passersby while ensuring his lower half remains somewhat hidden. It's only then that he lets himself relax a little, spreading his thighs and biting the inside of his lip to keep from moaning. There's two fingers inside him again, stretching him with eager but intentional determination. Ratio always complains that Aventurine likes to rush the foreplay too much, that it would be better to take their time. It's endearing sometimes, though inevitably makes him want to strangle Ratio in those moments where he just wants to get railed quick and dirty.
Lucky you, Doc. I'm not there to speed you along for once.
And it certainly seems that Ratio is taking his sweet time. Aventurine feels those fingers drag teasingly along his spot, curling up behind his pubic bone with every bit of Ratio's usual precision and absolutely zero hurry.
Fuck. He'd better not be aiming to make Aventurine squirt. That would be a diabolical way to prove a point, even for Ratio. Trying to keep his breathing even, Aventurine holds the menu in front of his face and tries to focus on reading it. All he can think about is Ratio slowly fucking those long, graceful fingers into his cunt.
And then he jumps, because he can feel a tongue where a tongue wasn't before. Ratio must have shifted his clothing around, because Aventurine definitely did not cut a slit all the way up to his asshole. That would be far too obvious walking around without his coat on.
But there's a hot, wet phantom pressure over his hole regardless, and it takes everything in Aventurine not to moan or squirm. He glances around the restaurant. Aside from a few casual glances in his general direction, nobody seems to be paying him any special attention, just as before. What luck. It was certainly a good idea to leave the ostentatious coat behind, he's a bit less conspicuous like this. Still feels absurdly warm under his collar, regardless. Maybe he should get something cold to cool him off.
"Hello, esteemed guest. Would you care to place an order?" The Intellitron waitstaff appears out of nowhere, making Aventurine jump. He's gotten more distracted than he'd realized if someone could sneak up on him so easily, but this is perfect.
"Yeah. I'll take a bottle of SoulGlad with an extra cup of ice, if you please. And I'll, uh, keep the menu for now."
"Of course," the waiter inclines their shining head. "I will return shortly."
Left alone once more, Aventurine lets out a shaky breath, gripping the menu as he feels that devilish tongue push its way inside his ass while those fingers dutifully stroke the clenching walls of his cunt.
He never thought he was all that much of a sexual exhibitionist— showing off and having eyes on him was all well and good, but actually fucking in front of people had never seemed terribly appealing. Now he can kinda understand the draw. Something about this feels even more illicit than if Ratio was here with him covertly fingering him under the table. A couple enjoying a frisky moment in public would be far more obvious, but a single person? Unless Aventurine makes a show of jacking off, who's ever going to suspect he's up to no good?
And it's not just that…
For one, the tongue in his ass is driving him insane and making it enjoyably challenging not to whimper too loudly.
But for another, he can't even communicate with Ratio beyond what limited messages he can send by clenching around him. All he can do is submit to his doctor's whims. Meanwhile, Ratio has no idea who he might be surrounded by, who he's talking to. Aventurine knew this would be a bizarre kind of trust exercise, but he couldn't have anticipated just how helpless he would feel, or how much he surprisingly wouldn't hate it.
In a strange way, the powerlessness makes him feel even more emboldened, knowing he's in Ratio's capable hands. Something about succumbing to Ratio's touch, in having no say in what he does, despite Aventurine ostensibly being the ringleader of this little experiment… The risk of being caught combined with the anticipation of what Ratio might do to his body next has Aventurine all twisted up in deliriously horny knots.
The SoulGlad and his glass of ice arrive in the midst of Aventurine biting back a moan as Ratio chooses that moment to start fingering him harder, sucking on his rim like a famished man. Perhaps it's a little unwise to add a mildly-psychoactive substance to this dangerous, thrill-seeking cocktail he's already sipping, but hell, he's come this far. What's the point, if not to push himself to the limits?
The cool liquid helps calm the heated sensation in his face and chest, but only momentarily. Aventurine can't help but open his thighs further beneath the table, the ambient air chilling his drenched cunt in a manner that only makes him more acutely aware of how turned on he is. Fuck. He needs to be careful, but all he wants to do is spread his legs like a bitch in heat.
He's goaded Ratio into fucking him in semi-public places, of course. But this really is testing his self-control in unanticipated ways. He can feel Ratio is likewise slipping in the way his tongue speeds up, in the phantom vibration of a moan against Aventurine's greedy hole. Those fingers are fucking deeper into him now, moving away from his g-spot in a benevolent show of mercy— he really wouldn't be able to hide it if Ratio forced him to ejaculate, but goddess above, thinking about it is certainly doing plenty for him…
Aventurine sips his SoulGlad and wonders if Ratio actually intends to fuck him at all, or if he might just edge Aventurine into oblivion. Here's hoping the doctor is desperate enough to fill him up the way he really wants.
Ratio might play like he's the civil one, the responsible adult between them, but he's proven time and time again to be a sucker for Aventurine's sexual machinations. The doctor truly doth protest too much. Aventurine's seen how hard he gets off on nearly getting caught. How much he likes to watch Aventurine covertly touch himself in a dark corner of a bar, how easily he succumbs to the offer of a risky blowjob under a desk or table, despite all his grumbling and complaining and lecturing. There's even been a time or two where they've actually caught someone's eye, and as tense as Ratio gets under those circumstances, he inevitably seems to cum all the harder for being watched.
Aventurine certainly doesn't plan on retiring these newly-crotchless pants after this current venture, not when he knows Ratio will absolutely finger him stupid just off camera while he's on a conference call, and maybe then some….
The SoulGlad disappears faster than it should have. Guess all this sneaky sexual activity really is thirsty business.
Alright, time to put himself to the test. He can't sit here for too long or someone's bound to get suspicious. Bound to look beneath the table at just the right angle to see his gushing wet pussy and call the Bloodhounds to deal with the pervert who'd clearly broken containment from one of the less savory corners of the Dreamscape.
In truth, if Aventurine didn't have important business to attend to later, he'd consider further tempting fate just to see what happened, but it's better to make this brief and keep his eyes on the prize. They can play around more once Penacony is safely returned to the IPC's portfolio…
Aventurine leaves ample Alfalfa credits on the table, far more than necessary, then forces himself to get to his feet and walk as normally as possible towards the plaza. He should certainly find somewhere else to sit before Ratio's cock enters the picture and walking becomes exponentially more difficult.
Glancing around, he's inspired to look up towards the surrounding high-rises. A rooftop… yeah, that should work perfectly for all his needs.
A few spheroid rides later, Aventurine manages to dodge the Family's security and find himself a secluded little outlook with a bench in one of the areas under construction. Another stroke of luck— there's none of those hostile Dreamjolt creatures the Family has been working so hard to cover up. (Not hard enough to keep Ratio and the research team Aventurine assembled from digging up the dirt, of course, but that's neither here nor there.)
Aventurine settles down onto the bench with a relieved groan, immediately spreading his thighs in a purely reflexive move. Ratio's cock has been teasing the entrance of his pussy for the last few minutes, as if in warning. While the consideration is appreciated, Aventurine is already so tired of waiting for the main course that he's considering jumping off this damn rooftop just to eject himself from the Dream and make Ratio pay for his crimes.
"Fuck," he mutters below his breath, feeling like an absolute slut with his cunt bared for the entire mirrored skyline to see. Staring down between his legs, he can see how swollen and flushed his folds have become thanks to Ratio's attentions. That part shouldn't cross over from his body in reality, right? Must be from how insanely turned on his Dreamscape body is. Being able to feel Ratio moving inside him but not see him is both disorienting and so, so fucking good.
"Come on, come on," Aventurine gripes in admittedly whiny irritation, trying to clench his inner muscles to encourage Ratio onward. His hips are rocking forward of their own volition and goddess above, he feels so needy it'd be alarming if he had any damns left to give. Ratio never gets away with teasing him this long, and for good reason; nobody needs to see Aventurine in this unwound state.
Desperation is for those seedy clients who so transparently ache for a crumb of pussy, not for Aventurine himself. He's supposed to be the one running the show at all times, and yet he's here in the Golden Hour, whimpering as quietly as he can because Ratio's thumb has somehow worked its way into his ass but his cock still hasn't done more than barely push the tip inside his increasingly jealous cunt.
"Fuck me already, stop toying with me," Aventurine growls, feeling halfway to feral as he clenches his fists around his thighs, trying desperately to ground himself. It's already beyond too much and yet he needs more, so much more.
Movement out of the corner of his eye floods him with sudden adrenaline. Aventurine looks over in a panic, then relaxes when he realizes it's just a solitary crow. Then thinks twice when he clocks the strange design on its chest and realizes what that implies.
Well, well. Took long enough. They say the Family has eyes everywhere, but he was almost starting to doubt. Then again, that bird would pass unnoticed so easily, it's possible the damn thing's been tailing him the entire time. It sure was easy to slip up here… maybe a little too easy. Seems pretty obvious he's found himself a voyeur: time to put on a good show.
Aventurine bites his lip as seductively as he can manage, tilting his head towards the bird.
"Our little secret?" he murmurs, then gasps and goes distant as he finally feels it— Ratio pushing past the tightness of his entrance, stretching him wide on the head and even wider on the shaft that follows. "Ah… fuck."
The crow shifts, its dark beady eyes still fixed on him. From its angle, it probably can't see everything between his legs, but if either of them were to move…
Yeah, he can definitely work this to his advantage.
Aventurine doesn't even have to muster up a faux theatrical moan— Ratio's finally bottomed out inside him, and goddess he wishes he could see the doctor now, buried to the hilt in his limp and unresisting body. What look might be gracing his handsome face? Is he disgusted by how much he's clearly enjoying this? Or, in the absence of an audience, has he fully accepted that he's just as depraved as Aventurine?
The sheer girth of his cock seems to indicate at least part of him is unapologetic in its enjoyment. Ratio's always a lot to take, but Aventurine swears he's even thicker than usual. Does Ratio merely enjoy manhandling him like this? Or is he equally turned on by the prospect of ruining Aventurine in public— of outing him as an even filthier deviant than everyone else in this dream carnival of pleasures…
Now who's the pervert, doctor?
"Fuck," Aventurine breathes, back arching and thighs spreading even more wantonly as his hips tilt into those unseen thrusts. Just picturing Ratio in the throes of pleasure is doing far too much for him. He can't help but reach down and touch himself— his cock is throbbing, begging for attention, and it's the one part of him Ratio can't easily reach while keeping him bent properly over the Dreampool.
He's so slippery that it takes a moment to even get enough traction to jack himself. His pussy immediately clenches down around Ratio, who pauses for the briefest of moments before adopting a slightly quicker pace than before. Aventurine would be more amazed that he can feel the phantom slap of Ratio's balls against his cock at the same time he's touching himself in that precise spot, but he's quite frankly too overwhelmed to give the doubled sensation much coherent thought.
"Did you come here for a private show?" he huffs in the direction of the Family's spy, turning slightly in invitation on the bench— as much as he can while keeping his back supported, because goodness knows he's barely able to hold himself up. "I don't… ah, mind if you watch. Make sure I'm behaving myself, right? Isn't that your job?"
The crow construct seems to weigh this out before hopping closer, and then closer still, until it's perched on the railing at the edge of the rooftop. Aventurine heart pounds faster when it settles down once more, making no attempt to hide the fact that it's now staring directly between his spread thighs. Hell, with how thick Ratio is and how much his cunt is gleefully clenching, maybe it can even see inside him. A man can dream…
Either way, he's got a real lecherous one on his hands, and he's not upset about it. It could certainly be a boon in the days to come, having someone in the Family— maybe even the Dreammaster himself— interested in his more intimate offerings. Or, alternately, writing him off as a sex-crazed lunatic. Either way, knowing someone is watching everything that Ratio's doing to him… Fuck, he feels entirely too powerful and entirely too much of a slut all at the same time.
Aventurine makes eye contact with the crow as he strokes his cock between his thumb and first two fingers, biting his lip and sinking back against the bench. Ratio has set a devastating pace— deep enough to hit right where he wants it, quick enough to give him that perfect friction everywhere else. His mouth drops open, a wounded noise escaping. The crow ruffles its feathers but continues to watch, unblinking.
"F-fuuuck," Aventurine moans, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment before he forces them back open. He should definitely keep tabs on this thing. Plus, whoever on the other end will surely appreciate the continued attention. His eyes must look insane right now, all blown out. Enjoy the show, creep.
"So fucking big. Oh god, he's gonna kill me."
He places a hand on his stomach, realizing he can both feel and see Ratio distending his stomach even though his silk shirt. Another devastating pang of desire spills through him. Shit, he's so close. Aventurine rolls his hips into his own touch, pleasure rocketing through his groin and up his spine, down his thighs, seeping into every part of him. Between the SoulGlad and Ratio's thorough attentions and being so wound up by his public escapades, Aventurine knows this is going to be a big one.
"Damnit, oh good heavens— I'm close." He stares at the spy in front of him, delirious. Ratio's definitely gonna kill him for this, assuming his dick doesn't do the job first. "Gonna— fuck, are you really gonna watch me cu—uuuhhghh!"
It hits him hard and fast, but then it clings— every spasm of Aventurine's cunt has him gasping for air, grinding against his own hand. Ratio dutifully fucks him through it, and oh, he must be enjoying this, feeling Aventurine's unconscious body tightening up around him like that, trying to milk his cock for all the cum he can spare.
The thought sends him just as swiftly into another peak, one that leaves him dizzy and even more breathless. His fingers are so slippery and his cock is throbbing with his release but he can't stop touching, can't stop overwhelmed tears from collecting at the corners of his eyes as he writhes on the bench, ass leaving the seat to press upwards into his hand, shoes slipping on the concrete beneath his feet.
His new crow friend stares all the while, the slightly ruffled feathers around its neck the only response it gives, but Aventurine knows the pervert on the other end must be enjoying themselves. He knows he looks damned good when he cums.
"K-keep. Going," he all but begs. Ratio can't hear him, but he knows how Aventurine likes to be fucked right into overstimulation. "Gonna make me… oh goddess, I can't—"
Ratio's fucking him at just the right angle to make Aventurine clamp down, squeezing so hard he's sure he's nearly going to force the man right out of him. But Ratio, bless him, doesn't stop— he never stops at this part, not even when Aventurine's surely choking the life out of his dick. Fuck, he must look so good right now, all disheveled with that deliciously angry look he gets when he's close, still clothed and sweating, his exposed bicep and forearm flexing and vascular, chest heaving, huge hands gripping Aventurine's unresisting hips as he rams that absolute fucking monster into his soaked pussy.
The dam breaks, just like that. Aventurine gushes all over the bench and the ground in front of it with an agonized whine. It's an utterly devastating kind of relief. He doesn't even have time to be grateful that this didn't happen until he was in a secluded spot— barely has the presence to muffle his cries into his palm, delirious and utterly well-fucked.
He has no idea if he's squirting in reality too, but he wouldn't be surprised based on the way Ratio slows and grinds into that spot before ramming in hard and resuming his quick pace, as if trying to wring every last drop from Aventurine's greedy cunt. He's always like this, always determined to ensure that Aventurine is at his absolute limits before letting him go. Obsessed with eking out the utmost pleasure before he lets himself succumb to his own. Always too good to him, too damned good by far…
Aventurine can only let his head fall back and take it, gulping down air. His vision has gone a little blurry from tears, but he can see the crow staring between his legs, then its eyes flicking up towards his. He manages a weary grin.
"Sorry… 'bout the mess… uhnn—"
Ratio's forced another jet of hot fluid out of him, making his entire body spasm with the rush. Aventurine tries to stifle his whine. Fuck. He desperately wants to see Ratio cum, all of a sudden. Needs to see what this is doing to him. If it's wrecking something in Ratio similar to whatever just got knocked loose in him— something deranged that needs to feel Ratio's breath on his neck, that needs to feel the heat of his body and hear his noises, needs to be held in his arms… stupid thoughts that never lead anywhere good, but right now, he thinks he can at least blame it on how fucking horny he is. Right?
Aventurine staggers up to his feet as soon as he can manage it, sparing a glance for the crow as it hops sideways on the railing, tilting its head at him with that intent, too sentient gaze.
"It's been a pleasure," Aventurine groans with a slight giggle, nodding his head at the creepy little thing. "But I've got a hot date waiting for me."
And then, without further ado, he pitches forward against the railing and manages to swing a shaky leg over it— despite his knees threatening to buckle with every move— before stepping off the ledge with a jaunty wave.
Wind rushes by him, his stomach drops, and Aventurine can't help the beaming smile that crosses his face as he plummets towards the streets below.
He's slammed back into his body with a jarring jolt, mind swimming in disorientation as his limbs try to remember where they belong and his stomach rolls at the sudden change in plane and elevation.
But then Ratio's cock drives into him and Aventurine remembers. He's face-down with his hands in liquid memoria, and Ratio's holding him around the waist with a strong, unfailing grip that he always knows he can count on to catch him.
Aventurine gasps something that he thinks is Ratio's name, but Ratio's already pulling him upright.
"Gambler," comes the heated admonishment, but he hears it for the endearment it is, just as Ratio unexpectedly pulls out of him. Aventurine succumbs to another moment of delirium as he's spun around, hands dripping from the Dreampool, eyes trying to focus on Ratio's face.
Goddess have mercy, Veritas is so beautiful— all disheveled hair and flushed cheeks and those red-lined, golden rimmed eyes glittering so, so bright. Those feline pupils are dilated as all hell, and not for the first time, he thinks how fitting it is that Ratio has the eyes of an apex predator.
"Hey," Aventurine says aloud, eloquently, and Ratio crushes their mouths together with an unusual desperation Aventurine doesn't think he recognizes from any of their previous trysts. He can hardly think straight now that he's getting hit with all the physicality at once. It's so wet between his legs and Ratio's mouth is so hot on his, arms sliding around Aventurine's waist to hold him up. Preservation help him, he can barely stand, thighs weakened and sore from holding that position for so long while in the Dream.
Ratio is one step ahead of him, scooping him up without further ado. Aventurine doesn't pay attention to their destination— he's too busy pawing at Ratio's chest, threading his memoria-coated fingers into the sweat-damp curls at Ratio's nape, tangling their tongues together with far less panache and skill than he usually displays. He can't think about anything but how badly he needs Ratio back inside him, about how fucking good Ratio's torso feels between his thighs, about the unreal spread of those huge, warm hands over his ass, holding him aloft.
The world goes all Dutch angles for a moment before he's on his back, Ratio pressing him down with a needy groan into the sofa cushions. They're still kissing. When was the last time they kissed like this? Have they ever…?
Aventurine grabs at him, wrapping his legs tightly around Ratio's waist so he gets the picture, and his dear Veritas does not disappoint, fucking back into him through the hole in his pants without missing a beat. The wetness on his cock has already cooled in the brief seconds they weren't connected, but Aventurine's body warms him right back up, and the relief he feels at being surrounded, absolutely covered by Ratio above him… fuck, it's even better than the release Ratio gave him earlier.
"Stay inside," he insists, though it might be lost somewhere between all the kissing and heavy breathing they're doing. "When you cum." Ratio nods, having understood one way or another, only pulling back enough to mouth at Aventurine's jaw, shoving his nose down against Aventurine's neck as he rocks his frenzied hips forward with a force he normally keeps restrained.
Aeons, he's so strong.
Aventurine never fully forgets, because look at the man, but it's times like this that he's powerfully reminded of how much Ratio typically holds back. On these rare occasions the doctor forgets himself, it's truly like being slammed in the cunt by Qlipoth's damned hammer— and oh, is he ever loving it.
"Fuck, Ratio," Aventurine whines, grasping at him with something that feels uncomfortably like need. "You're— Aeons." He doesn't even know what he's trying to say. If Ratio doesn't finish soon, he might actually lose his mind, but the last thing he wants is for this to ever stop.
"You felt me," Ratio finally speaks again, uncharacteristically out of breath. His chest is burning hot through his clothing, his voice rough in ways that does insane things to Aventurine's libido. "The entire time, you felt me."
"Nghhhuh-huh," Aventurine manages, eyes rolling back when Ratio shifts and hits a place so deep inside him, dragging so perfectly right past his cervix, that he thinks he might even cum again, untouched. "Y-yeah. Felt everything. Could barely— walk straight."
Ratio doesn't even seem to try to hold back the groan that drags up from deep in his chest, panting against Aventurine's temple as his hips shudder. Aventurine can feel how hard his cock kicks inside. "Did anyone see you?"
Aventurine considers lying for a brief moment, but he has a feeling that Ratio isn't going to lecture him right now. Not as worked up as he is.
"Yeah," he admits, moaning shamelessly as Ratio finds a way to fuck him even harder for it. "Ngh, I let 'em watch. You made me come all over myself— right in front of them. Oh fuck oh fuck right there, please plea—
Ratio's kissing him again, cutting off his rambling and making a noise like he's actually dying, like maybe this is it, but Aventurine knows that particular sound all too well. He clenches down on Ratio's cock, then sighs into Ratio's mouth as he feels it hit, that thick heat inside him jerking with each pump.
It'd be concerning how quiet his thoughts get whenever Ratio cums inside him, if he was the type to dwell on such things.
Instead, all he's really paying attention to is how gorgeous Ratio sounds mid-orgasm, how he shivers all over, how his hips ram home with a last bout of desperation to bury his seed as deep inside as possible; right where they both want it, for reasons that probably don't need examining.
Aventurine's still teetering on the edge, having nearly forgotten about his own impending orgasm until Ratio, still shuddering with aftershocks, begins to fuck him again with unflagging focus.
"Wh-what?" It's hardly the first time Ratio's just kept on going without a break, because the man is insane and apparently a refractory period is just a suggestion to him, but considering how long they've already been at it, Aventurine wasn't exactly expecting… well. The intensity in Ratio's eyes, for one, as he pulls back enough to let Aventurine see his flushed and sweat-dotted face, his kiss-swollen lips, and that bizarrely brooding, aggravated expression he's wearing.
"I didn't get to see," Ratio says, as if it's the most self-explanatory thing in the world. "I want to see you."
Aventurine blinks up at him, swallowing down something he is absolutely not going to think about right now. His shirt is sticking to his back, his pants are an absolute disaster, and all he knows is that he wants to give Ratio whatever will make that little furrow between his brows disappear.
"See me cum? Cuz… fuck, yeah, I might… I might be close again."
"Good," Ratio says. That strange expression is still on his face, but he seems somewhat mollified by this. His hips are still rocking into Aventurine's, making even more of a mess of him now that he's added his own seed to the mix. There's a pause before he asks, as if it's just occurred to him, "unless you came back to stop me?"
Aventurine laughs. "Hardly." The next admission comes out as easy as a lie. "Wanted to see you too." Shit, he means, "See you cum."
Ratio just stares at him, the strange and perplexing man that he is, then nods. "I admit I enjoyed that experiment," he says, cautiously, still thrusting away. He's far more erudite now that he's finally busted a nut, which is cute, even if Aventurine rather liked seeing him all pussy-drunk and desperate. "But next time, I prefer to be the one showing you off, if others must be allowed to watch."
Those words light up Aventurine's insides to an alarming degree.
"Oh?" he can't help but tease, letting his head fall back so Ratio can enjoy the view of his throat. "Ahha— you jealous, doc?"
"Yes," Ratio says in an utterly exasperated tone, which Aventurine was not actually expecting, not in a million Amber Eras, then surges over top of him to catch his slightly-ajar mouth in another insistent kiss. Despite his shock, or perhaps because of it, Aventurine succumbs— it feels good and he's surely allowed to be a bit of a stupid hedonist about this, surely allowed to soak up everything that Ratio's pouring into him right now, even if they are never, ever going to mention it again once they're back in their right minds.
And pour into him, Ratio does. He hasn't flagged a bit, seeming determined to give Aventurine one last orgasm before he calls it a day. He even grabs at Aventurine's hand when he tries to sneak it down between them to rub at his cock, pressing his wrist up alongside his head.
"What did they get to see," Ratio asks, insistent, fucking into him with that particular kind of intensity Aventurine has never managed to develop immunity to. "Tell me what I missed."
Aventurine doesn't know how Ratio possibly expects him to speak coherently right now. He should by all rights be too sore to keep going, but he's still dripping like a faucet, still so full of Ratio's cum, and fuck, he'll talk if it means Ratio doesn't stop.
"I— sat at a restaurant with my— my legs spread under the table," he admits, heat washing over his face both to relive the recent memory and to confess it to Ratio. "When your tongue was in my ass. Fuck, I thought you were gonna make me— nghh— squirt right there. Don't think anyone noticed, just — just sat there and— oh fuck— drank a SoulGlad to try and cool down. Didn't— didn't work."
"And then?" Ratio pressed, all intensity. There's really no stopping him once he fixates. "Where were you when you orgasmed?"
Aventurine hates how much Ratio's formal style of dirty talk makes him swoon. "Found myself a little— ahhh, a little private rooftop because I knew once you were actually fucking me, I wouldn't— hhah!— oh fuck. Wouldn't be able to stay quiet."
Ratio stares down at him, eyes like the darkest wine, and Aventurine thinks that if he was struck dead in this very moment, it would hardly be the worst sight to go out on. It's a frequent thought when he looks at Ratio, both in and out of bed.
"And?" The pure anticipation in Ratio's gaze could light oil, could spark gasoline into a roaring blaze. "You came for someone, right before you returned. Were your legs spread wide for them, too?"
"Y-yes," Aventurine finds himself admitting, because fuck, this strange interrogation is getting him off, he really might just cum untouched if Ratio keeps talking to him like this. "Felt like a desperate slut, I h-had to touch myself, you were making it feel too good. And they— they stared right at me when you made me… made a mess out of me. F-fuck, Ratio, I'm—"
"Close?" Ratio presses, but he's shaking again, like he's still having aftershocks. Aventurine's certain he's never seen him like this; not even drunk, not even that one accidental time with the aphrodisiac chocolates. "Are you going to show me, this time?"
Aventurine squeezes his eyes closed, nodding and trying to catch his breath. "Sure. Of course."
"Aventurine."
The use of his name makes his eyes open again, reflexive, and Ratio's still staring, still looming over him, the pretty lights of the Dreampool catching in his damp curls. Fuck, he's so beautiful, Aventurine can't keep looking at him, he absolutely cannot.
"Don't look away," Ratio insists, voice rough as it's ever been. He shifts his weight to one arm so he can envelop Aventurine's chin and most of his cheek with one stupidly large hand. "Look at me. Show me what they saw." The sheer focus in his eyes alone is nearly enough to cause a spontaneous orgasm event, never mind that grip.
Aventurine's simply not built for this. He's survived uncountable numbers of things too terrible for the written record, but fuck if he knows how to handle Veritas Ratio staring at him like his entire world will end if Aventurine doesn't cum on his cock right fucking now and they're not gazing directly into each other while he does. This is somehow the most exposed, the most horrifyingly naked he's been all day.
"I—" his voice cracks.
"It's alright," Ratio cuts back in, immediately softening both his expression and his grip on Aventurine's chin. His eyes go a bit liquid, gaze darting all over as if in concern, and Aventurine is struck through with something he is not remotely prepared to accept. "It's alright. Forgive my— selfish demand. If it's too much—"
"Fuck," Aventurine says with feeling, voice wavering. His nose burns. He clutches at Ratio's shoulders and neck, feeling suddenly unmoored. Of fucking course he wants to give that to Ratio. He wants to give him so much more than he gave some anonymous creep from the Family. More than he wants to give anyone. A single orgasm for his viewing pleasure should be nothing— he's shown off for Ratio plenty of times before.
It's just not so easy when Ratio is looking at him like that. That look is making it far too tempting to confuse this for something it isn't, and that's not a mistake Aventurine can realistically afford. One of the few things he can't simply charge to his tab. And at this point, it's become clear to Aventurine that his vaunted silver tongue is miserably failing him, so all he can do is drag Ratio back in for a wet, needy kiss and hope that's enough.
Ratio immediately melts even further against him with a soft, pleased noise. This time when Aventurine feels his cock slide home into that perfect, snug spot above his cervix, it's as if Ratio can tell he's hesitating, because he shifts his hand to slide beneath Aventurine's neck, gently pushing his fingers into the hair at his nape. There's something about the feeling of being held like that, so tenderly and purposefully cradled beneath Ratio's powerful body, that tidily snaps any resistance Aventurine was still clinging to.
He abandons his remaining shreds of caution and drags Ratio close with both arms, tightening his legs around those hardworking hips, greedy to the last. The chips will land as they will. He'll make his excuses later, he just wants to fucking feel something right now.
"Please," he breathes with obvious need against Ratio's panting lips, unsure what the hell he's even asking for, yet breaking his no-desperation rule for it anyway.
Ratio pushes his tongue back into Aventurine's mouth with possessive greed, as if unwilling to let Aventurine slip away from him. As if he doesn't realize there's absolutely no chance of running now that he's pinned Aventurine in place by mouth and by cunt, fucking into him like he means to obliterate any last foolish ideas of resisting— as if Aventurine hasn't already lost his grip ten times over— and that's what finally cracks him open.
It hits slow and deep at first, then crescendos as the first spasms spur Ratio to fuck him harder, and then they're riding it out together, Aventurine clinging on for dear life. He throws his head back into Ratio's acquiescing palm, breaking the kiss with a gasping sob, and this time it's fine if Ratio's staring down at him with mouth ajar because his eyes are too blurry to really make out the details anyway.
"Aventurine," Ratio chokes out, and even through his fuzzy vision, Aventurine can tell how his chest heaves. "Yes, good. Just like that. Just for—"
Aventurine hears the last word, unspoken, and laughs in delirium as his insides convulse in sheer pleasure. Fuck. If anyone could find a way to kill him with sex, it would definitely be Ratio.
He must lose an entire minute just drifting in the aftermath, his pussy spasming around Ratio's girth like it's being paid for it. Suddenly, Ratio is laying back atop him— sparing Aventurine his full weight, but nosing into the hair at his temple all the same. It's hot and sticky and Aventurine's nose is still burning, but hell, he's surely done worse than maybe accidentally having a moment with his strategic partner-turned-fuck partner.
Probably.
The lingering kiss Ratio presses to his temple has him immediately questioning that conclusion. Aventurine looks up at him as he pulls back, blearily blinking away the wetness in his eyes he still doesn't quite know what to make of.
Damnit. There's seriously no reason for Ratio to look this gorgeous. Seeing him all fucked-out is a special kind of torment that Aventurine can't seem to stop coming back for. They slowly catch their breath, Aventurine letting his eyes slide closed again. It's better if they don't keep looking at each other. Let Ratio come back to his senses without too much awkwardness. Much easier.
Aventurine doesn't, therefore, anticipate the hand sliding back around to cup his cheek— almost in the same way Ratio had cradled his chin before, but somehow worse. Everyone knows a chin-hold is horny, dominant. Pure sex distilled into a gesture. But cradling a cheek? That's really pushing the envelope of sentimentality. Aventurine bites the inside of his lip, opening his eyes just enough to see down the cut-out in Ratio's sweat-damp shirt. It's a nice view, the curves of his pecs all flushed with exertion. He could just… look down here. For a while…
Really, he should just get up, shower, and get back to business. But then Ratio's thumb drags softly over his bottom lip and Aventurine's skin is immediately electrified, his stomach suddenly feeling as if he's eaten an entire suitcase full of lead weights. He can easily picture it tumbling right out of his body, crashing down through all the floors below and leaving a sizeable crater in the lobby of the Reverie. His entire mouth tingles. That's not a good sign.
"Aventurine," Ratio says for the third time, which must be a record. But this time, it's unnervingly like a plea. "Tell me already if it's too much."
Aventurine takes a shaky breath. Ratio's still inside him. They shouldn't be having this conversation right now. Hell, they shouldn't be having this conversation ever. But apparently he's not finished with high-risk ventures today, because he forces himself to meet Ratio's gaze. Part of it must be a masochistic urge to see exactly what awaits him there— because it's going to feel like shit either way, isn't it?
Ah. Yeah. Fuck. Ratio should not be looking at him like that. Especially after the stunt they just pulled. What the actual hell is wrong with this man.
"And here I thought I was meant to be the insane one," Aventurine manages to laugh, blinking back the lingering moisture in his eyes. Where is it all coming from? "Did you knock your handsome head on the Dreampool while I was in there?"
Ratio huffs, his mouth twitching to the side. Displeased is an interesting expression on someone still exuding afterglow energy. "Be serious."
"When am I ever anything but," Aventurine counters, wincing a little. "Maybe… ugh, the sofa. We should probably…"
"To hell with the damned sofa," Ratio bites out, and ah, there's that familiar fire. He seems to hesitate over his next words, which would be uncharacteristically cute if it wasn't making Aventurine panic.
"We just got a little carried away," he insists, struggling to pull back and sit up on his elbows. Ratio is being supremely unhelpful and not moving off of him. "Still, I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime."
Ratio scoffs, then finally sits back, withdrawing his hand from Aventurine's face and slowly pulling his softening cock from inside Aventurine's cunt. It's impossible not to make a noise of loss as both actions leave him empty. Ratio just stares down at him, seeming torn between aggravation and affection, and then his gaze travels further down to between Aventurine's legs and the drenched slit still seeping with his cum.
"You must know I would not do this for anyone else," he says, tearing his gaze away after a moment to return it to Aventurine's face. "Any of this."
Oh gods, he looks so fucking earnest, Aventurine wants to crawl into the nearest hole and die. Dig one, if he has to. God-tier embarrassment aside, however, something doesn't add up. Surely…?
"Ah, sure, I know you're not exactly risk-taker extraordinaire, but wasn't there…?" Aventurine finds himself grasping. "I thought there was that one Genius you seemed fond of. You've never gotten up to anything even a little freaky while you were working together on that Divergent Universe project? I find that hard to believe, you're not exactly the vanilla guy most take you for." Himself included, at one point. Seems so long ago, now…
Ratio just stares at him for a beat before sighing, clearly exasperated (and so dramatic, bless him.) "'Any of this' meaning 'sex,' regardless of metaphorical flavor," he clarifies with a disbelieving frown. "You really think I've been seeing other people?"
That practically stops Aventurine's heart. "What do you mean? Of course you have." Alright, not his finest moment, but what else is he supposed to say?
"Incorrect." Ratio shakes his head slowly. "You previously assumed, and I did not correct you at the time. I am doing so now."
Well, shit. Aventurine gapes a little before he manages to wrangle his face back into cooperation. Ratio would fucking spring this on him when he's just had the living daylights railed out of him.
"Huh," he says, buying time as his wheels spin. "I know I'm a tough act to follow, but surely you just need to make the effort. Your personality isn't nearly as bad as people say."
Ratio outright rolls his eyes, leaning back in over him until Aventurine caves and slumps lower on his elbows, and wow his heart is sure beating pretty fast, isn't it?
"Today's experiment was tremendously enlightening," Ratio goes on once they're face to face again, like the absolute madman that he is. "I discovered, for my part, that I rather enjoy the trust you have placed in me to ensure both your pleasure and safety during such an ill-advised escapade, and admittedly I found the scenario considerably erotically stimulating. However," and here he pauses, hesitating again. "It is not quite the same without your company. I am not one typically given to jealousy, and while interrogating this unusual occurrence, I arrived at the conclusion that I did, in fact, miss your presence tremendously."
Aventurine swallows. "Ratio…"
His doctor's eyes have taken on that liquid, velvety softness again, the furrow having returned to his brow. It looks different than his usual vexation. If Aventurine had a fully-loaded gun to his head— and maybe not even then— he might be convinced to label the expression on Ratio's face as something akin to 'longing.'
Which is entirely absurd. As are the strange tingles in his stomach, the ones emanating up through his chest to mingle awkwardly with the overtime beating of his malnourished heart.
"Forgive my less-than-stellar timing," Ratio continues, wetting his lips. His eyes dart around for a moment, lending him a nervous air. "But would I be wrong in thinking you felt similarly? It was one of the few potential conclusions I could draw from the brief amount of time elapsed between your second orgasm and you withdrawing from the Dreamscape. The implication was that you desired my company as well."
Aventurine laughs in slight hysteria and not a little despair, because of course Ratio would have extrapolated the exact correct meaning from that.
"Don't be mad," he hedges, lowering his voice and looking askance toward the Dreampool that started this whole mess. "But I miiiight have thrown myself off a building to get back here sooner…"
There's a moment of very conspicuous silence. Suspicious, Aventurine turns back to find Ratio staring at him with… a complicated expression, to say the least.
"I see," he finally says. "While we will certainly be discussing that concerning and questionable choice at a later date, I cannot say I am upset by the confirmation that you wished to return as quickly as possible."
Aventurine tries to give him a charming smile, though it feels pretty weak in comparison to what his usual firepower can muster. "What can I say, doc? You're a difficult guy to ignore. Especially when you're all up in my guts."
Ratio just raises an eyebrow. "And what about now that we are not in the middle of intercourse?" He leans in closer, until their noses are brushing and Aventurine is carefully holding his breath. "Will you insist on maintaining an arbitrarily-drawn line, or have we finally moved past that?"
"I dunno, I wouldn't exactly call it 'arbitrary,'" Aventurine argues back, though it's just as weak as his smile was. The urge to just give in and kiss Ratio is a powerful one. If he was at full strength, he'd have come up with at least six different ways to squirm out of this one, but the part of his mind not occupied by Ratio's lips is being remarkably uncooperative. "It's been working pretty well so far."
"Has it?" Ratio presses, and it dawns on Aventurine— embarrassingly belatedly— that he's being teased by this menace of a man. "I beg to differ."
"Doesn't sound much like begging," Aventurine quips, going for coy, but Ratio is having absolutely none of it.
"Would you prefer me to?" He looks dead serious, from what Aventurine can see of his expression from this close-up. "I'm not opposed, if it would assist in this process. You are incredibly stubborn."
Aventurine all but wheezes, wondering how the fuck he landed himself in this situation with his stupid withered heart about to beat its way directly through his ribcage. What's with all his vital organs abandoning him in his time of need?
"As hot as it would be, you really don't have to do that."
Ratio groans, pulling back ever so slightly to give him an irritated look. "You'll throw yourself off a building…"
"Listen—"
"Why would I listen to a man who would rather fling himself off a high-rise than simply admit that he cares—"
Well, that's one way to do it, Aventurine thinks with his mouth occupied. Ratio lets out a frustrated— and rather sexy— growl before succumbing to the kiss. Goddess wept, they're both so sweaty and sticky and Ratio must be reaching his absolute sensory limits, so the fact that he's still here between Aventurine's legs, letting Aventurine cling to him as they tangle their tongues together is… well. It's certainly not nothing.
Fuck. This is the last thing he needs right now, but it's also the one thing he's not certain he can get away with putting off any longer without making it obvious that there is Something to put off.
"If you are trying to distract me," Ratio finally gets out, licking away the saliva that clings between their lips, but Aventurine's already shaking his head. He's shaking like a damn leaf in a gale, but what's that nonsense girlboss aphorism Topaz loves to quote? "Do it scared"? Sure.
"N-no, you're right. About all of it," he manages to stammer in a fully uncharacteristic and entirely humiliating manner. "I'm just. I don't—" Have a foolproof plan or enough reasonable contingencies for how he'll mend his broken heart if he manages to fuck this up and lose Ratio forever. "This isn't really my area."
"Nor mine," Ratio reminds him, nudging their noses together again. It's oddly sweet. Reassuring. "But I'm not someone you need be afraid of stumbling in front of."
"Because you like looking at my ass," Aventurine tries for levity, weakly. What if he just evaporated right now?
"Correct," Ratio obliges him ever so graciously, and ugh, his smile is way too soft, what is happening. "Although that is only one of the reasons." He pauses, long enough for Aventurine to really start to worry, then adds with a slight frown, "we don't have to make more of this than you wish to, or are ready for. I am merely finding it difficult to continue pretending my feelings for you are of a casual or platonic nature. And if I'm not the only one who has been chafing under such conditions…"
"… pretty sure we should be either more clothed or more naked for this," Aventurine says, stupidly, because he simply can't stop deflecting. He's admittedly reeling at the way Ratio ever so casually dropped the "f" bomb…
Ratio finally rises up off him, tucking himself away— seemingly heedless of the mess— before carefully wiping his fingers on his trousers— seriously, who is this man and what has he done with fastidious, uptight Ratio?— before taking Aventurine by the hand and pulling him up to sitting so they're side by side on the worse-for-wear orange sofa. For some reason, Ratio doesn't let go, even once they're both seated.
Aventurine stares down in disbelief at how much bigger Ratio's palm is than his (oh, the places those fingers have reached inside him…) and even more so the fact that they're holding hands.
"What are we, schoolkids?" Never mind that he never went to school. Never mind that he kind of likes it. Fuck. He's so fucked.
Ratio just watches him, remarkably patient despite his wildly debauched appearance.
"Perhaps we are indeed little better than such," he muses, then reaches for Aventurine's face with his other hand. The cleaner one. "Now come here, you delightful lunatic."
The kiss this time is soft, lingering. It makes something ache inside Aventurine, like pressing on a bruised muscle. This truly is torturous. Why can't he just be a normal person capable of loving this absurd man the way he deserves to be—
Wait. No, no, backtrack. That is definitely not what's happening here, because Aventurine hasn't the first idea of what romantic love would even feel like, and everyone always says you'll know, you'll certainly know when it's your turn— although granted, it's really unfair how Ratio's mouth is so sweet and slow and tender on his, like this means something to him, because you simply do not kiss your fuck buddies like that, and you definitely don't hold their hand in between your laps and caress their face, and okay, maybe he's spiraling a little.
They gently pull apart, as if by unspoken understanding, and Ratio looks unguarded in a way Aventurine hadn't known possible, his pretty ruby gold eyes wide and hopeful and wanting.
"I don't want to lose this," he says, unexpectedly, squeezing Aventurine's trembling left hand and clearing his throat. Gods above, he truly seems nervous. Aventurine has seen Ratio tense many a time but never properly anxious. He's gone and broken the man. "You really must tell me if it's too much. I will refrain from speaking of it again, if that truly is your wish."
Wait, that's why he keeps asking? Because he's worried about fucking this up? Aventurine's voice catches in his throat. He might be spiraling, sure, but if Ratio's been afraid as well… he can't just let that stand. A world where Ratio lives in fear and doubt shouldn't exist.
"No," he manages to blurt out, because now he's panicked that if he says the wrong thing, Ratio will take it as a permanent rejection, as a sign to never bring this up again. And even if he doesn't deserve it, even if it's a mistake, Aventurine doesn't think he can be so selfless as to do the right thing by Ratio and let him walk away. "No, it's… you're not the one who should be worried, Doc. You couldn't mess this up, don't be absurd."
Ratio's expression is caught in a funny place between relief and aggravation.
"You think too little of yourself and too highly of me."
"I think just right about you," Aventurine says, wetting his lips. Courage suffuses him in the face of Ratio's worry. "And none of this is too much. Not really. I'm just still catching up to the notion that I'm not the only one who's been having some… let's call them inadvisable thoughts about all this." He pauses, then admits, "I guess I can't really say I've been feeling too casual about things either, given it's been months since I slept with anybody else. Hasn't really felt right…"
It's an incredible thing, watching Ratio's face melt fully into relief. His smile is subtle, but he looks so… happy. How it's possible for him to be so elated at the idea that Aventurine of all people has been secretly pining for him, the world may never know.
"And does this…? Feel right?"
Ratio's voice is steadier but still betrays a hint of nerves, as does the way his gaze wavers. Obvious tension still lines his shoulders, his breathing still slightly constrained. He looks so damned beautiful, and Aventurine realizes maybe he does know what falling in love feels like, because the notion of doing this with anyone else is unthinkable. A life without Ratio? Unfathomable. This man is one of the rare few things that makes Aventurine's existence worthwhile.
"Yeah," he says, voice thick. Why is his nose stinging so weirdly? "Yeah, it does."
The kiss this time ends up with him straddling Ratio's lap, heedless of the mess he must be making of Ratio's trousers, and sighing into the embrace of those thick, heated biceps and those lovely, broad hands. It feels so good he could almost weep, and Aventurine is notably not a crier. It's tempting, though, when Ratio sighs into the kiss, seemingly unable to keep his hands from running all over Aventurine's thighs, stroking his sides and upper back, pushing into his hair. Is this what it feels like? To be wanted? Perhaps even to be loved?
Fuck, it's far more terrifying than stepping off that high-rise could even have been, but Aventurine knows he's kidding himself if he thinks there's any ledge he wouldn't gladly step off for Veritas. Apparently, his version of love is just extremely maladjusted and ill-advised. No wonder he didn't recognize it sooner; what sane person would?
Ratio's eyes are wet when they pull back, and the sight hits Aventurine like a sucker punch to the jaw. Add a few teeth to the list of things falling apart.
"Ratio?" Suddenly, he doesn't give two shits about his mission. Penacony can wait until he's made sure Ratio is okay. Qlipoth THEMSELVES can wait until he's made sure Ratio is okay. "Are you…? Did I do something—"
"You blessed fool," Ratio sighs fondly, pulling Aventurine against his chest and securing him in a warm, sweaty, unsurprisingly good-smelling hug. Even his sweat smells perfect, as far as Aventurine's concerned. "My blessed fool."
Aventurine can't help a laughing sigh of his own, winding his arms tightly around that broad back, amazed to have permission. Oh fuck, he's so done for.
"As if anyone else would have me," he manages to joke even while squishing himself deeper into Ratio's embrace. "You're the only one insane enough for the job."
"I could say the same to you," Ratio murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of Aventurine's head. "Does this mean you're letting me keep you? I would never constrain you if that is not your wish."
Aventurine pretends to think about it for a moment, as if it isn't a foregone conclusion that, for all the notion of close relationships terrifies him, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't see this through. Goddess forbid he ever have to watch Ratio with someone else, knowing it could have been him.
"Yeah," he says, blinking back more of that suspicious liquid in his eyes. "I'm, uh, probably dripping heaven-knows-what all over your trousers right now, but I still can't say there's anywhere else I'd rather be."
"Nor I," Ratio confirms, nuzzling his face into Aventurine's hair and inhaling deeply, as if he can't get enough of the combination of hair product, perfume, and sweat they'd just worked up. "I am, in fact, feeling incredibly resistant to moving, despite the no-doubt offensive state of us."
Aventurine's pretty sure his heart has just expanded tenfold in the last several seconds. Surely he's still in the Dreampool, because there's no way Ratio's just asked him to be in a real, committed relationship and is willing to sit and stew in their own fluids. Impossible.
And yet, here they are…
"Mm, gotta say," Aventurine drawls, trying not to let on just how affected he is, "this is gonna make it extra difficult to act like I hate you in front of the Oak Family head, but I hear make-up sex is pretty incredible."
Ratio laughs— properly, abruptly, like he hadn't meant to— and Aventurine thinks he could survive off that sound alone for months . Feeling it vibrate through him where their bodies are pressed together is one of his new favorite things.
"I will look forward to it," Ratio confirms once his laughter has trailed off, pressing a kiss to Aventurine's forehead. "That would require, of course, that you don't do anything more foolish than earlier to jeopardize your safety. Speaking of which…" He leans back, rummaging in his back pocket. Aventurine watches, curious, as something is pressed into his palm: an odd, golden-topped capsule decorated with a miniature version of Ratio's owl pauldron.
"What…"
"To be opened in a moment of dire need," is all Ratio says, quiet. There's something somber in his expression as he folds Aventurine's fingers around the capsule. "Promise me."
Aventurine swallows hard at that look. He knows what Ratio is actually asking. "I'll… I'll try."
There's a flicker of sadness in Ratio's eyes before he nods, understanding.
"That's all I can ask for. I admittedly hesitated whether to say anything, given the focus you will need for the next phases of this project. However, I selfishly hope that you will add this to your list of reasons to return safely."
This. The two of them. The possibility of things to come.
Somehow, it seems considerably more imperative to walk out of this in one piece. Sly, sly doctor using himself as bait. Fortunately for him, Aventurine might just be inclined to bite.
He holds Ratio's plaintive gaze as he presses a kiss to the owl on the capsule and tucks it carefully into his own back pocket, then loops his arms around Ratio's shoulders.
"Alright, Doc," he murmurs as he leans in for one last kiss before they have to get cleaned up, neglected heart so full it's nigh upon bursting. "You played my silly game. This time, I'll play yours."
xx
Forever fearless
And in your arms, a warm horizon