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“Instead of searching for the next best man to satisfy your needs in this hostile environment and baring your vulnerable self to an opportunist, how about taking me into consideration?”
Aventurine thinks he’s hearing things. He clears his ear with one hand and asks Ratio to repeat himself, “Sorry what?”
“You heard me right, Gambler. I am suggesting a sexual endeavour that will be to both our benefit.”
One corner of his mouth moves up strangely. Aventurine tries to suppress it. “Finally taking me up on my offer? What if I refuse?”
Aventurine had given up on rolling into bed with this plaster head when his advances were brushed off more times than he could count. Now Ratio comes to him of his own accord. Maybe he should’ve played hard to get from the get-go.
“With how pent up you are, I wouldn’t be surprised to get a call by tomorrow to pick up your body from a suite or the streets if I left you to your own devices.”
“Oh my, you wound me, Doctor. Weren’t you the one who said collaborations demand trust?”, Aventurine plays out dramatics.
“I trust in your bad taste of bed partners.”
If Aventurine mentions how Ratio is included in that supposedly bad taste, he will just say that he is well aware. No, even Aventurine has to admit that among all his flings, Ratio is his most sincere want and the only decent person, which makes him someone far out of his league. Him asking for it had only ever been out of an incontrollable impulse. Let’s just say if Aventurine didn’t care for their relationship and just wanted to bed him like his other passing fancies, Ratio wouldn’t have remained untouched until now.
“Ha, what are you waiting for, Doc. Take me to new heights.”
Aventurine might be irrational but he isn’t stupid. This is a once in a lifetime offer. Any regrets can set in after the fact.
“Do not think I will play along to every game of yours.”
That's what he always says, and yet they continue to collaborate and Ratio is the strategic partner that plays his crucial parts in Aventurine’s plans to the best of his capabilities despite his frequent complaints.
Aventurine takes Ratio to his penthouse suite. Ratio wasn’t wrong in saying Aventurine is getting impatient. He would have found himself the next best Dom he spots and dragged them into one of those unreserved rooms to play a round. He is quite good in luring people into following his pace.
“Do you have a preference for safewords, or do we opt for the standard colours? Yellow for slow down, red for stop.”
“I have never had a need for a safeword, but if it gives you peace of mind, Doctor, sure we can do the traffic colours.”, Aventurine gives way as he takes off his fur-lined coat and drapes it over a chair.
Aventurine has never seen Ratio with a Sub, nor can he imagine how this stoic man would be like in the confines of a bedroom. Aventurine has had his fair share of experience with Doms. At the end of the line, every one of them is inherently the same.
Ratio sits down at the edge of the kingsize bed. “Let’s start lightly. Come over here.”
“Don’t you mean crawl?” Aventurine leans forward and bends a knee, ready for what’s to come.
“Did I not speak clearly enough?”
Aventurine could only straighten his back and walk over. This doesn’t set the mood at all.
“Give me your hand.” Ratio orders with his palm facing upward. Aventurine does as told and Ratio slips a finger under the silk of his glove and pulls it off. Aventurine watches the process with bated breath. When the glove is off and dangling from Ratio’s fingers, he looks up and gives his next command, “Sit down.”
Aventurine plops down into a kneeling position. He makes it soundless. This is just practised routine to him at this point in life.
Deft fingers slip under his chin and lift his line of sight to eye level with a strain of his neck. “Take off your clothes.”
And Aventurine wordlessly does as told under the intense gaze of his Dom of the night. He starts from the top, taking off his earring and places it on Ratio’s hand holding his chin, then, he strips off his vest, his shirt, his rings and remaining glove and works his way down to the bottom of his feet.
For once, Aventurine is exposing his truest self to Ratio, shedding his armour to the last piece of clothing. When his rich adornments are taken off, all that remains is a feeble thrall of Avgin descent.
Does he deserve the experience that is to transpire? Probably not, but it is what it is. Ratio is the one who asked for it. He must have thought it through one way or another. Maybe he is in need of Trust Points from the IPC to start a new research project.
A hand combs through his hair and Aventurine prepares himself to be yanked forward. It does not happen and his preparation falls through as the large hand only moves to stroke the top of his head.
“Good job.”
And Aventurine feels the praise although he’s barely done anything to this point.
Something akin to excitement that makes the tips of his fingers and toes numb and something warm settle in his gut.
“You seem to have something to say. Speak.”
Nothing can escape Ratio’s observation skills.
Aventurine swallows to wet his throat. “…can I suck you off?”
Ratio raises an eyebrow. Aventurine purses his lips.
“If you want to.”, Ratio permits.
Back to familiar routine, Aventurine inches forward on all fours and opens the front of Ratio’s pants with his teeth. The hand stays motionless on top of his head. Aventurine draws his full attention to the task at hand.
He mouths at the bulge suppressed by the underwear. His breath warms the spot before his tongue touches the fabric to stimulate what’s underneath.
Aventurine glances upward before he raises a hand to pull at the underwear and slipping that hand in to scoop out the dick. He steers it to his mouth and wraps his lips around the tip before letting loose and kissing down along the length.
“Hm…do you have a preference in receiving head?”
Ratio moves his hand from the top of his head to the back of his neck as he bends his back into a comfortable position from where he can watch Aventurine.
“No.”
Other partners would have pushed their dicks down his throat by now to chase release. Does Ratio not see any appeal in Aventurine to do so?
He still has all night to convince him otherwise.
Aventurine uses his slender fingers to skillfully stroke Ratio’s shaft. Ratio retains his sobriety. That does not mean he’s entirely unaffected. His face doesn’t give away much, but the light flush and crease of brows is a new expression that is really exciting to look at.
Aventurine doesn’t forget to put his mouth to use. He nibbles on the testicles while his palm moves up and down. When the dick hardens to a decent extent and leaks precum, his right hand comes to a stop. It is then that he presses his cheek against the hot, pulsating length and sidles it until it touches his lips all while retaining eye contact. They always say his eyes are a mesmerizing sight to behold. Something about a deeper reason within.
Aventurine tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear before opening his mouth wide and taking the whole thing in as far as it goes.
It’s been awhile since he’s taken something this big, but he’s no stranger to easing the way. If Ratio continues to observe without taking action, Aventurine will continue going at his pace.
His throat feels tight as he pushes it deeper. He makes a swallowing motion to relax his throat muscles and rolls his tongue. The thing in his mouth grows larger and he pulls back to breathe through his nose before pushing back in. It reaches deeper with the spilling saliva easing the way. He repeats the process, changing how he uses his tongue to wrap, press or caress around until he feels like Ratio is close to releasing a load.
He pulls back midway to leave room for the finishing ministrations and accepts everything into his mouth, not letting a drop go to waste even as he feels a push on his forehead.
He lets himself fall back, lips pressed together, once the dick softens and nothing is coming out anymore. He swallows half of his mouthful before he pries his own lips open with his fingers and shows a display of scooping up white cum off his red tongue and smearing some on his chest to direct towards the next stage.
Ratio looks slightly conflicted before he issues his next command. “…Swallow the rest of it.”
And Aventurine complies with bent eyes. Swallowing half of it on his own must have made it easier on Ratio’s conscience. This clean freak didn’t strike him as someone who would suggest to have his bodily fluids consumed without a push in the direction.
It’s not like Aventurine particularly likes the taste to be eager about it, but his partners always had the hots for it. It would be disengaging to go out of the way to spit it out.
Aventurine tilts his head as he props a hand on Ratio’s legs and lifts himself forward. He gives Ratio a chaste kiss with his taste on Aventurine’s lips before pushing him down. “I’ve prepared myself.”
And he makes it apparent by sitting down on one of Ratio’s thighs as he raises his left hand as evidence. Something transparent flows down from three fingers. It is what Aventurine usually does while giving head to make it easier on himself for what’s to come. If it isn’t Ratio who’s impatient, then Aventurine is.
He wants to be touched.
Ratio’s hands move to hold him around the hips. He doesn’t retaliate to Aventurine’s challenge of dominance by flipping positions, and instead lets the tips of his fingers wander down from his lower back to between his cheeks. Aventurine’s knees feel weak and his back crouches.
“Overoptimistic of you to think three of your fingers is enough.”
“Oh…”, Aventurine blinks. “It might get tight but it’ll be manageable.” He knows what his body can take. This isn’t his first, although it’s been awhile.
Ratio slips a finger into his wet passage. “Do you have lube?”
“Don’t you feel that there’s no need for that?”, Aventurine tempts.
“It’s impressive that your body is conditioned to produce slick from your back, but I prefer double insurance to ensure the comfort of the both of us.”, Ratio pulls up with safety measures. His face doesn’t look like there's a way around it.
Aventurine leans down to bite at Ratio’s collarbone. “…Second drawer left side.”
He wants to get it on asap, so he relents without arguing back. Aventurine usually doesn’t use anything of the sort, so this is hotel property.
It really is an exasperating process bedding a man with eight doctorates to his name.
He rolls Aventurine off his body onto the sheets and reaches for the cupboard. Brushed off for a bottle of lube. Now this is a new experience.
He hears the cupboard open and close, some shuffling, and Ratio is back, hovering above his head upside down. “You did well waiting.” Ratio places a hand on Aventurine’s cheek that Aventurine nuzzles into. He buries his face in the large palm, and sticks out his tongue. He feels tingly and distracts otherwise.
Ratio shifts his seating position as he lets Aventurine continue to lick the gaps of his fingers. He doesn’t stay passive about it and pushes two of them into Aventurine’s mouth, going against his nimble tongue. During that action Aventurine is gathered into Ratio’s arms and Aventurine almost chokes on his own spit from the sudden change in position and fingers digging down his throat.
This is a very intimate amount of skinship without a dick in him. Aventurine squirms in the hold and Ratio lays him down with his head on a pillow. The fingers leave his mouth and he soon feels something cold pooling on his nether regions. His arousal is going up and down in spikes today. Emphasis on the former.
Ratio smears the lube around the entrance before inserting the fingers that explored Aventurine’s mouth.
They both remain silent for this interval in time. Ratio reaches deeper than Aventurine could. It is an unfamiliar sensation, being pried open by fingers that aren’t his own. It is usually coupled with something else that takes up space and is less flexible.
Aventurine moans are few and far between. Ratio doesn’t strike him as a degenerate that gets off on pretences. He holds back, but he doesn’t suppress it all. When a sound climbs up his throat and clogs his airway, Aventurine lets it out and feels debilitated.
Now Ratio is the one staring at Aventurine as he pleasures him.
It doesn’t take long at all for Ratio to find his sweet spot and aim at it accurately. This is really dangerous.
When Ratio props one arm beside Aventurine’s upper body to lean down, Aventurine instinctually turns his head to the side.
Ratio deliberately speaks into his defenseless ear. “Come.”
And Aventurine feels exhilaration wash over him. The corner of his eyes feel hot as his legs close together to keep Ratio’s arm in place. He shifts to an angle that presses the fingers inside him deeper to drag out the high. A small amount of transparent liquid drips on his stomach. His breathing falters and picks up pace.
They haven’t even gotten to the actual sex yet.
Once the tide passes, Ratio pries his legs apart with his other hand that isn’t held captive and moves to sit between them. He takes out his fingers and Aventurine feels himself clenching around empty air.
Ratio pulls closer, holding his dick in his wet hand and positioning it at Aventurine’s back entrance. “Relax or I won’t fit.”
“Then…don’t grow bigger.”
“This is a natural physical response I cannot control. You were the one eager to take me on.”, Ratio seems to rethink his words and changes his tone. “Shift your focus to another part of your body.” It isn’t much better in terms of sensuality.
Nevertheless, Aventurine trembles as calloused fingers brush across his chest and splay out over his ribcage, exerting light pressure. It feels more intimate than it sounds.
Ratio pushes in.
“Huh, uh…ah—…”, Aventurine’s hands grab onto the closest thing within reach, which is Ratio’s bicep.
It feels strange. Different. It isn’t the size but hm…the friction, the texture?
There were condoms in the drawer. How likely is it that Ratio wore one over? He would do it for the cleanliness and health factor.
Aventurine goes out of his way to remind regardless. “…You—, um, can…do it without rubber.”
“Nonsense.”, Ratio states his firm opinion. It probably isn’t just because it’s Aventurine.
The thoughts fly out of his head when Ratio thrusts into him. Aventurine releases his hands from Ratio’s arm and lowers them to grab a fistful of the sheets. One of his hands is held back by Ratio, who grabs him by the wrist and shamelessly steers it to his neckline.
Aventurine can feel Ratio’s pulse underneath his palm. It shouldn’t excite him. It does.
“Undress me.”
His searing gaze sends shivers down Aventurine’s spine. Aventurine follows the instructions with shaking hands. He can’t feel the tips of his fingers as he runs them over the ornament under Ratio’s Adam's apple.
Somehow he manages to unclip the chain from the point connected to the clothes, and detach the owl contraption around the neck with a single hand. It takes longer than it should. The ornament slips off and drops to the side of the bed as Ratio’s collar opens, followed by an abrupt movement making Aventurine’s hand slip underneath the fabric.
He gasps for air as Ratio grazes against his prostrate. His hand squeezes the side of Aventurine’s waist just enough to feel it but not to leave an imprint.
It would be easier if he treated him roughly.
Aventurine pulls himself together to stabilise his motor skills. He drags his fingers down from the side of Ratio’s neck to his abdominal muscles where the buttons to his black top are. It is easier to snap those open.
When he distractedly touches a bit too much, Ratio does the same to his soft belly.
“Does it feel good?”
What part is he talking about? His tactile sense on his hand or the lower body? It does feel scarily good. Aventurine gives a honest review. A hum of assent. “…Mnh.”
Ratio pokes him on the chest, eliciting something akin to a moan from Aventurine. “Don’t swallow your words.”
What is he saying? “I thought…you couldn’t stand the aimless chattering of a fool…”, Aventurine squeezes out.
“Has it ever stopped you from talking my ear off? Don’t switch up when communication is desirable.”
Aventurine manages a chuckle. “Is this—, ah…a hint that you want to RP?”
Ratio pushes deeper. It almost feels like he’s going to penetrate into unexplored territory. Sure, Aventurine has taken up worse up his ass, but he was never clear-headed enough to gather much of an impression of the process.
To him, sex is just another chip in his gambles, or simply an outlet of frustration and desire. He does not particularly care for it, but he can’t help what his body symptomises with withdrawal.
Ratio is too committed to the act, taking it unaccustomedly slow and with unbidden focus that Aventurine can’t phase out. Usually, Aventurine doesn’t have the consideration towards his bed partners to follow their pace instead of his own, and they pick up on it. Ratio ignores the signals to go at it with disregard.
“Is that what you usually do?”, Ratio asks.
Aventurine retraces his line of thought. “…Hn—, depends.”
Ratio’s hand wanders to the side and pinches Aventurine’s nipple. He cups his breast and although there’s barely any flesh there, he massages them in a really stimulating motion.
He doesn’t neglect the other body parts - Ratio pulls out partway and pushes back in at a steady rhythm.
It’s a bit too prudent for Aventurine’s tastes. Maybe the good Doctor needs a nudge in a more adventurous direction.
Aventurine hooks the golden chain with his pinky finger and brings it up to his lips, putting one end in his mouth. He threads the circular metal underneath his neck and clasps it close with the purple gem at the front.
The most sophisticated collar he’s worn up to date. The metal leaves plenty of space for movement, so it does not feel suffocating.
Aventurine grabs Ratio by the palm of his hand. It proceeds smoothly because Ratio doesn’t resist. He brings it up to pull at the loose chain and feels it at the back of his neck with a pull at his teeth. It doesn’t hurt. Ratio wouldn’t wear something that enables discomfort for everyday life.
“What are you…”
Aventurine unclenches his teeth and uses his tongue to press the metal clasp out of his mouth. He yanks himself upward in a surge of strength. The short end of the chain dangles in the air from their shared grasp. His right hand holds onto Ratio’s innocent, complicit hand like a reminder.
In this position, when Aventurine moves his hips forward, it sinks in deeper inside him. It is with a delay in reaction time that a muscular arm supports his back by hugging his waist. How thoughtful.
He positions his angled legs into a kneeling position for easier manoeuvring. His left hand settles on Ratio’s shoulder, pulling one side of his black top downward.
Aventurine leans his upper body back to strain the chain. He does so while constricting down below in a way that has Ratio’s breath stuttering.
When he loosens his grip on his right hand now, Ratio doesn’t let go and holds on tightly to prevent him from falling back, even though a fall would pose no danger.
“Fill me up, Master—“
Ratio’s hand climbs up the chain to the owl part. One finger on each wing. Ratio’s arm around his waist repositions itself to supporting his back along his spine. The broad palm on his upper back transfers a heated body temperature. Ratio leans closer with his deadly face. “…Red.”
“…h…red what? Red lips, red eyeliner…”
“Red safeword.”, Ratio clarifies. “Cool off your head.” He takes off the ornament and throws it aside.
He can’t be serious. “…Can we, ah, finish what we started?” Aventurine moves his hips in a way that has him sure it feels good for the dick inside him. For those who like to do it face to face, they tend to be open to persuasion when looking him in the eyes.
“It would undermine the purpose of you learning from your mistakes.”, Ratio sounds self-assured of his decision. An exception through and through.
Yeah, Aventurine would have no problem breaking it off after getting his fill. Now, they’re stuck at the height of passion. Isn’t it painful for him too if he halts operations at this stage where his dick basically grew a bone?
Ratio doesn’t care. He heartlessly lifts Aventurine off his lap.
Shit, his own dick is aching and his hole feels empty with the occasional throbbing, asking to be filled. He can’t cum properly without someone cumming inside him. Aventurine was looking forward to finding out if a condom would obstruct the conditioned reflex.
“…I’m hard, you’re hard. Ratio, there’s only one way to solve it.”, Aventurine says in a coy tone.
Ratio wears a frown. “I suspect you do not even know why I called for a stop.”
No, he has a list in his head of all the unpleasantries that could have been the last straw. Aventurine is aware that he isn’t without flaws. Far from it. He can’t help showing all his imperfections to Ratio to dissect his reactions.
Either Ratio is good at hiding his dissatisfaction along the ride until he couldn’t stand it anymore, or he clearly has something against raw dogging.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking with that look on your face, you’re on the wrong track.”
“Enlighten me then, Professor.” Aventurine sits at attention with a smile on his face.
Is it because he didn’t play his role as Sub well enough?
Is his malnourished, scarred body too unattractive?
Well, Ratio could get hard to it so the latter shouldn’t be a big issue in overview.
“Your inclinations and behaviour are very telling of your habitual escapades. I figured as much, and I wasn’t about to speak on it, but servitude is an iniquity I won’t play a part in.”
“Professor, all my blood is still convened to my lower body and my brain must be lacking oxygen because the only thing I can hear is that you’re sexy.”
Ratio brings a hand up to his face to straighten out his frown. He continues speaking after a sigh, more so to himself. “Asking that you reflect on yourself made no difference the first few times, and I doubt it would be any different now. Getting you to listen is an impossible task outside bedroom activities.”
“Yeah, glad you understand ordering me around is a privilege.”
Usually, it’s the trait that lies in focus. As a slave, an Avgin was a rare commodity, what with the eradication of his race. And since joining the ranks of the Stonehearts, he’s sweetened the deal. Isn’t it tempting ordering around someone of higher rank? That’s how he gets them. It needs to be kept in mind that anyone who thinks they could win him over through sexual favours doesn’t see a good ending.
Aventurine doubts Ratio would have the same motivations to his usual clientele.
It could be that he deems it too far into the mission to allow Aventurine to deviate by messing around with interpersonal relationships. They can’t afford a missing person case on a hostile planet that would jump at the chance to blame the IPC, even without the evidence.
Aventurine thinks his head is clearing up. “Are we still doing this or do I find myself another victim?”, he asks with a raise of an eyebrow.
Aventurine had a plan when he went out, before crossing paths with Ratio and going with his alternate suggestion.
“No…I decided to interfere and will see it through. I should have payed more attention. It wouldn’t sit well to leave you in a worse state, so I’m going to solve your situation.”, Ratio points to his lower body.
Oh?
Ratio grabs him by the ankle and slips a hand in the fold of his other leg. He lifts his knee with one hand on Aventurine’s inner thigh and pulls him towards himself. His other hand places Aventurine’s foot on his shoulder as he ducks down and Aventurine falls on his back from imbalance.
The sole of his foot rubs against the rumpled fabric. He stares at the ceiling as he ponders over Ratio’s words. Are they going to resume what couldn’t be finished? He made a big deal out of nothing.
Fleeting kisses fall on his inner thigh. He feels teeth bite into his flesh and then lips grazing the wound. Ratio moves his head further down and now Aventurine is the one with a hand in the other’s hair as he feels something wet and tensile at his rim.
He thought Ratio is a clean freak that would hate putting his mouth to private parts, but apparently that is not the case. Although the approach is clumsy, Ratio is quick to learn what methods are more effective at providing pleasure.
Maybe because Aventurine was driven close to orgasm before this activity, he feels close to cumming just from being eaten out. Something about Ratio’s technique just gets to him, and the thought is arousing in of itself.
“Ratio, haa, I’m close—“ Aventurine tries to give a heads up. He instinctively pushes his lower body further into Ratio’s face to chase relief. It isn’t enough.
His scalp goes numb when Ratio wraps a hand around Aventurine’s front. The sensation fades away when he strokes up and down. Scared him for a second that Ratio would deny him to cum after edging him once already.
He locks his leg around Ratio’s neck and uses it as leverage to arch his back.
It is in that position that he reaches another orgasm.
Ratio disentangles himself from Aventurine’s limbs hanging onto him. “Let’s end it here. That should have appeased your hunger.”
It is far from enough. He barely got a taste. It’s not like Ratio is satisfied either.
“It is sufficient when you aren’t thinking about running off and reconstructing our plan last minute. When we’re back at Pier Point, you can do as you want without forcing yourself to endure.” Ratio stands up with his back turned to Aventurine and leaves for the bathroom.
That man is definitely still hard.
When Aventurine is close to dozing off, Ratio comes to pick him up in a bathrobe. His skin at the neckline that can’t be covered by the robe is cold to the touch. Signs of a cold shower. Does he enjoy torturing himself? Aventurine pats Ratio’s chest and is dropped into a warm bathtub.
Aventurine runs a hand over his face and shakes off the water. “…You treat me better when you pick me up from one night stands.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Ratio rolls up his sleeves and takes a bottle of shampoo into his hand.
Aventurine sulks. “Am I not sexually attractive enough?”
Ratio clicks the lid close after squeezing out a dollop. “Don’t be stupid.”
Aventurine leans his head over the edge for easier reachability. Ratio follows it up with laying a towel under his chin.
“Close your eyes.”, Ratio cautions before scooping a bit of water over Aventurine’s hair and massaging in the shampoo.
Aventurine hangs his arms out of the tub and relaxes like a dead person.
0.
Bright lights flicker in the distance. They don’t reach this corner behind the luxury hotel chain building. Aventurine clutches his communication device in his fist. It beeps occasionally and flares with a red light.
He hears footsteps approaching. Unhurried, paced and heavy. Familiar so to say.
They come to a stop in front of him.
A silence that sounds like a reprimand in the air.
He shuts off his communicator before a deep voice speaks up.
“The situation inside has been dealt with. The perpetrator was apprehended for illegal organ trade...”, Ratio reads off like a report. Then, he hangs on his personal sentiment. “You didn’t have to resort to such measures to obtain evidence. You didn’t do it out of necessity.”
“…Sorry to disappoint your morals. It was out of a different kind of necessity.”
“I see.”, Ratio speaks with no fluctuating emotion in his voice. “As a functional adult you are entitled to make your own decisions. Contacting me was a choice on your part and I will take liberty in lending a hand.”
He takes off his suit jacket and throws it over Aventurine’s head.
What, does he also want to choke Aventurine to unconsciousness?
A hand slips underneath his upper thigh and lifts him up. Ratio repositions the coat over his head to not fall off and starts walking while carrying him on one arm.
“Your suit is getting dirty.”, Aventurine brings to attention.
“I’m aware.”
Aventurine can’t judge what his tone means without a look at his expression.
Moving his neck hurts, so he stays still. The pain is an indicator of having escaped from the brink of death by a close call yet again. Nothing out of the ordinary. He can’t tell why he allowed Ratio to trace him down. He must’ve been out of it.
Aventurine hears the press of a car key and then a car door being opened. A hand shields the top of his head as he’s being put down on a seat and secured with a seatbelt. The door is shut close and he soon hears someone entering on the other side and starting the engine.
“Because of the investigation underway, it is noisy here. I suggest we relocate to the residential area.”
“Whatever you say.”, Aventurine answers.
The drive sets out smoothly. Aventurine takes the coat off his face once they’re far enough and holds a good blue golden coat ruined with smears of red in his hands.
He looks to the side with minimal head movement.
Ratio’s gaze is focused on the road. He gently steps on the brake at the next crossroad light and glances at Aventurine. “No plans to button up or zip your pants?”
“I think I’m feeling anaemic.”
“So you can’t move your fingers?”
“Exactly.”
“You aren’t the one who lost blood.”
“Low on oxygen.”
The light turns green and the car gets rolling.
“Then you might get a correspondence for public indecency come daylight.”
Aventurine pulls Ratio’s suit jacket up to his shoulders. No, Ratio doesn’t break traffic laws so what pictures could possibly be taken.
“You’re messing with me.”
Ratio hums. “A subjective opinion. I would think your delayed response is a convincing farce, however, your left hand tells otherwise.” His hand moves away from the steering wheel to turn up the air conditioner of the car. “You incapacitated a substantial seller of the nebulae black market. Expect yourself to be under surveillance of unpleasant company. If you’re seen in this state, they would nurture wrong ideas and overestimate their capabilities.”
Aventurine’s throat hurts when he laughs. “Is this your idea of consolation?”
Talking to him about trivialities to distract from the arising issues of a cleanup that Aventurine has long been used to dealing with on his own. The unbelievable bit is that it does indeed put his mind at ease. Only Ratio could manage to lower Aventurine’s guard in such a vulnerable state.
Ratio parks the car at the side of the road. “If you think so, it can be.”
He unbuckles his seatbelt. Before exiting the car, Ratio leans over and straightens out Aventurine’s clothes to make him look somewhat presentable and less prone to inquiring, sidelong glances. Ratio also makes Aventurine wear his suit jacket to cover the dark stains on his teal shirt.
In that state, Aventurine is carried out as Ratio makes a call for someone to pick up the vehicle. They book a one night lodging at an extraneous inn to take a rest.
If it were the usual, Aventurine would have forcefully pulled himself together in that alley after a breather of a handful of minutes. He would have cleaned himself with the inner lining of the stained black coat thrown to his side, sprayed on perfume to mask the overwhelming scent of blood and stood up against the wall before walking out with a sense of confidence he didn’t have. It would have been a long night ahead of layering deceit. Something that should come to him naturally. After all, Sigonians are born socialites, thieves and liars.
Resting during a commotion would be an unthinkable luxury. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to handle his business with the proper care and necessary caution.
It is Aventurine’s oversight that he hadn’t taken into account the digressions in a collaboration with Ratio. Quite a few work habits aren’t applicable with him around. Although it throws Aventurine off most of the time, he can’t deny that at the end of the day, Ratio manages to have their joint projects completed at a greater efficiency. His work efficiency even extends to arbitrary improvisations like these.
If Ratio can’t find him at the places he should be at, it is easy to conclude what Aventurine would be up to. Ratio wouldn’t bother to call and interrupt under normal circumstances. But with the knowledge of why Aventurine is staying at this gaudy hotel, it must’ve raised a bad feeling.
If Aventurine ignores the call, Ratio would find a way to intercept his location. Taking the call, Aventurine knows he wouldn’t have the energy to win a verbal fight with a certified professor.
So he ignored it to spare himself the earful for later. He sent a short message that held no particular meaning and waited for Ratio to either find him or for himself to recover before that. Something along the lines of ‘the screen is broken, can’t talk’.
And Ratio, as always, is overly efficient in his methods. He exceeds expectations even in these fields outside of his multitude of professions.
Such as now. Aventurine can’t tell if Ratio’s proficiency in bathing another comes as unexpected.
Ratio holds out a hand under his nose. “Do you have any thoughts on this smell? This aroma has detoxifying properties. It cannot replace professional treatment, but you’ll feel slightly better soaking in it. Enough to get a restful night’s sleep.”
Aventurine reclines against the wall on his stool.
“As said, I’m giving you free reign.”
“It would be unfortunate if a product intended for recovery has the opposite effect. If it causes you discomfort, do speak up on it.”
“I trust you know what you’re doing, Doctor. You do you.”
Aventurine means it. Pushing all responsibilities onto someone else can be unwinding. Ratio has accompanied him countless times to know what actions Aventurine would agree on.
“Then I will take your word for it.”
Ratio kneels down on one knee and reaches out to Aventurine. He doesn’t let his eyes wander and undresses Aventurine with clear conscience. He’s seen everything that needs to be seen anyways.
“Harboring no thoughts about this body?” Aventurine shifts to a slightly seductive position as Ratio pulls off the last piece of clothing at his ankle.
“Save your jests for another day.”
There is no appeal even in this situation of vulnerability. No exasperated schooling on his impossible behavior either. Does he even care?
Ratio unilaterally lifts him up and carries him into the small tub.
It must be a disillusioning experience. Ratio must be thinking along the lines of Aventurine, capable as he is, can’t even take care of himself. His past can’t be erased from his body. Not only do physical traces remain, but also bad habits. It’s impossible to like him.
Contrary to his expectations, Ratio doesn’t propose the operational removal of these scars.
It’s not like Aventurine wants to keep them for sentimental attachment. It just feels wrong to deny what he went through.
They are the only proof of bygone events that made him the person that he is. Those that can be removed have been removed. The remaining marks are an important part of himself. Such as the product code burned into the skin of his neck. Or the scars on his back or his sides. Something unsightly but undeniably him.
“Aventurine.”, Ratio addresses him to gain his attention. His fingers linger below Aventurine’s chin. “If you find yourself in a predicament, do not hesitate to ask for my assistance. There is no need to overthink it.”
That sounds overly familiar. Does their relationship allow for selfishness? “If you are feeling sorry, don’t be.”, Aventurine says. None of it is his responsibility.
“Nothing of the sort. It is a sincere proposition. You can do as you did today. I’d rather work overtime than hear about your self-sabotage in afterthought.”
Does he see this as part of his job? To ensure a smooth progression of their projects?
Whatever the case, Aventurine should stop making passes at Ratio. This ordeal just goes to show that Ratio holds no such thoughts about him. It would be tactless to continue teasing him.
Aventurine hums as he leans back and closes his eyes.