Work Text:
#Welcome Home Cheater#
Posted by: SneakySnitch
[Image]
Description: Aventurine of Stratagems holding hands with Topaz of Debt Retrieval, two members of the Strategic Investment Departments' Ten Stonehearts. Topaz is holding a bouquet of blue, pink, and white flowers while the two stare at each other lovingly.
Okay, so I know we've all been riding the Ratiorine hype train and the whole message board has been on a #ProtectAven crusade lately, but literally what the fuck is this? Because it looks like cheating to me.
Comments:
CyberTao:
Wtf, are you off your meds? Can a man and woman not look at each other without people assuming they're fucking? OP, this is completely unhinged behaviour.
Agree (547), Disagree (83)
LilPeacock:
Whoa, scandalous! I can't believe they're h*lding h*nds!
Agree (610), Disagree (131)
Mintbreeze:
Isn't Aventurine like, married to Dr. Ratio, though?
Agree (448), Disagree (234)
Assorted_Fabric:
@Mintbreeze Since when has marriage stopped a man from cheating lmao
@DrRatio Is this your gremlin?
Agree (43), Disagree (942)
Sincerest:
@Assorted_Fabric I admit it does look kind of suspicious without any context, but literally tagging Ratio in a post accusing his spouse of cheating on him is pretty disgusting behaviour.
Agree (992), Disagree (38)
Assorted_Fabric:
@Sincerest Why? Doesn't he deserve to know about this?
Agree (40), Disagree (248)
Sincerest:
@Assorted_Fabric You're assuming he doesn't already. Topaz and Aventurine are very close. I've literally sat at my desk and watched them hug in front of Ratio, so he definitely knows about this as well. Admittedly, they have gotten a lot closer in the month since I was transferred to Strategic Investments. The physical affection thing is new in the last two weeks or so.
Anyway, if you're actually that concerned, why wouldn't you message him privately instead of bringing him here to publicly humiliate him?
Agree (395), Disagree (64)
RatiosLeftSandal:
@Sincerest He literally blocked her. Rightfully so, to be quite honest.
Agree (417), Disagree (67)
HaikuBot:
He literally
blocked her. Rightfully so,
to be quite honest.
Agree (954), Disagree (301)
LilPeacock:
@HaikuBot Good bot.
Agree (697), Disagree (177)
TeamCheese:
I hate to say it but I'm not even surprised. A few months ago I was out with friends when Aventurine showed up, got completely shitfaced off like two drinks, then left with the bartender and all our money. It was strange at the time for sure, but thinking about it now, he was probably already engaged to Dr. Ratio at the time, so now I feel really gross about it.
Agree (430), Disagree (279)
GreenRockLover420:
i wish adventurine would look at me like that. i'd help him rebuild the avgins in a heartbeat
Agree (37), Disagree (232)
Vital_Vibe:
@GreenRockLover420 First of all ew, but second of all, there's no D in Aventurine.
Agree (884), Disagree (57)
LilPeacock:
@Vital_Vibe There's a D in Aventurine at least 7 days a week, lets be real.
@GreenRockLover420 If anyone is going to help him rebuild the Avgin, it's gonna be Ratio. Try not to be too disappointed~
Agree (982), Disagree (12)
* * *
The fifth of May arrives in Pier Point under the dark gaze of cumulonimbus clouds, setting a gloomy filter over the city before day has even broken. Rain batters the tall windows of the apartment, accompanied by bright flashes of lightning and rolling thunder. The storm is so loud that Veritas can practically feel the building shake as he lay in bed, wide awake despite the fact that it's well past midnight.
It's not the storm that's awoken him, but rather his own expectations, which have kept him from sleeping at all tonight.
For days now, Aventurine has been feeling down, his mood in steady decline as depression creeps back up on him once again. Veritas has seen his melancholy spiral in the way he takes his time getting out of bed, how he sits at the breakfast table in his pyjamas, staring out the window and pushing his food around on his plate while hardly eating any of it. He stands in the walk-in closet and stares at himself in the mirror, or picks through his clothes idly, overthinking what he wants to wear, and his showers drag on because he gets under water that is far too hot and just... doesn't move. Then, when they're about to leave together for work, Aventurine hesitates at the door.
He doesn't speak up about his low mood, but in this case, it isn't necessary.
Bouts of depression don't have to have any discernible cause, although the rationality in Veritas always wants to look for one—only to be better able to provide comfort, not because he thinks he can solve the problem and take away the horrible emptiness, even though he wishes he could. Considering the time of year, however, this one does have a cause, although in some cruel twist of fate for both of them, it's not something that Veritas can even begin to understand how to help with.
So he does what he can instead.
When Aventurine begins writhing under the covers next to him, his breathing picking up into harsh pants while he whimpers and cries out softly, Veritas is already there, alert and waiting. He expects it this time when it escalates, pulling away the blankets so Aventurine doesn't tangle himself in them and go crashing to the floor like the last time he had a nightmare this bad. He kneels on the floor while Aventurine sits on the edge of the bed, coaching him to breathe through heavy, panicked sobs, while the thunder overhead makes it harder for him to focus.
Eventually, he does come down, and they move from the bedroom to the couch in the living room. Veritas holds Aventurine loosely, stroking his hair and kissing the side of his head the way his husband likes, comforting him even though he's no longer visibly upset. Aventurine doesn't have to be shaking or crying, actively in the middle of a breakdown, for Veritas to tell what state he's in. It's plainly visible to him in the despondent listlessness, the way dull eyes stare into space even as Aventurine leans over with his head on Veritas' shoulder.
Neither of them speak, because there really isn't anything to say. Veritas can't even begin to fathom what it feels like to go through what Aventurine has, and it's not his place to tell Aventurine how to properly deal with a grief that he could never understand.
"It would rain today," Aventurine murmurs at one point, his voice raspy and low from an extended period of reticence after awakening from sleep screaming.
With the silence broken, it's easier for Veritas to ask, "Is there anything more I can do to help? Or is this enough?"
"This is enough," Aventurine says, and then lapses back into solemn quietude.
Veritas lets him.
For hours they sit like this, until the sky behind the clouds begins to lighten and the rain lets up enough so it isn't pounding on the windows, further tormenting his husband. Only then does Aventurine sit up with a heavy sigh, and Veritas finally feels secure enough to leave him.
"I'll start breakfast," he says. "Any requests?"
Predictably, Aventurine shakes his head. "I'm not really hungry."
"Something small and light, then," Veritas tells him, because no matter how difficult things get for him today, he still needs to eat.
Aventurine agrees with a nod, and then lays down; Veritas doesn't walk away until he's tucked a pillow under his husband's head and laid a blanket over top of him to keep him warm, ensuring that he's perfectly comfortable. With a final kiss placed on the top of his head, he retrieves his husband's phone and water bottle from the bedroom, as well as pulls the TV remote and the box of tissues within reach just in case.
He takes care of Aventurine's breakfast before he even considers his own needs, having decided on a poached egg, a slice of toast, and a mug of peppermint tea. The portions are small but should be enough to satisfy and the flavours are mild so as not to overstimulate. Normally, he'd ask Aventurine to get up and come to the table, but today he makes an exception, bringing his plate out and pulling the coffee table closer so he can lean over it without having to get all the way up.
While he's cooking for himself, he hears Aventurine's phone go off just over the sound of eggs and bacon frying, and Aventurine answers it on speaker. Veritas can vaguely make out Topaz's voice from the other end of the line, but not what she's saying. He speculates that it has something to do with work—why else would she be calling this early on a Sunday morning?
By the time he enters the living room with his own food and seats himself in his preferred armchair, the conversation is almost over, but he catches just enough to gather the context—Aventurine had been expected at a meeting today, and Topaz had called either to ask him if he planned on attending or to let him know that he doesn't have to. Either way, it's obvious to him that Aventurine has decided to stay home, which is probably the right call.
"Do you want me to bring the notes over when the meeting's done, or would you rather I just message them to you instead?" Topaz asks, then adds in a sweet lilt, "If I come over, I'll bring Numby along so you can cuddle with them."
Aventurine hums, looking up at Veritas for confirmation, and Veritas nods. What trouble could a trotter realistically get into? Although Numby does have that particular penchant for finding treasures.... He eyes the various marble statues that are placed against the walls of the apartment, wondering if those would count as treasures.
He thinks they should.
"Veritas says it's okay. Bring Numby," Aventurine responds.
Topaz scoffs, but it's fond and teasing, her tone light. "You have to ask permission? I thought Ratio was your husband, not your prison warden."
"Good morning to you, too, Miss Topaz," Veritas says, finally announcing his presence, too decaffeinated to feel amused at this.
There's silence for a moment, and then Topaz sputters, "Oh. Oh, Aeons, I'm on speaker. Uh, hey Doctor! How are you? It's been a while."
"Indeed," is his only response to this, pouting while Aventurine, blessedly, lets out a quiet laugh. There aren't enough words to describe how sweet the sound is to his ears, how pretty Aventurine looks with the barely-there ghost of a smile on his face, how it fills Veritas with relief to see him like this.
"I'll see you later, then. I'm gonna eat and... try to get myself together so I'm not an absolute wreck when you show up," Aventurine says, sounding a little sheepish. "I know it's hard to believe, but I look like shit."
Topaz sighs, "Aventurine... you're allowed to be a wreck sometimes, you know? Especially now, all things considered. I'm not going to think less of you just because you're having a tough time, and Numby definitely doesn't mind. Just relax and focus on yourself today. Alright?"
"Okay," he says after a beat of silence. "Thank you."
"I'll see you this afternoon," Topaz says in a sort of finality, "Ratio, don't let him lift a finger."
Veritas' response is immediate, "I didn't plan on it."
There's a moment after the call ends where the apartment is quiet again while Aventurine uprights himself, rearranging the blanket so it's around his shoulders. Veritas takes that time to admire him in the misty grey light of morning as the sun tries and fails to poke its golden fingers through the thick rain clouds. His wheat-coloured hair is in complete disarray and his pyjama top is rumpled, mostly undone except for one stubborn button in the middle of his chest hanging on for dear life. Beneath that, his navel piercing is barely visible, the silver jewellery glinting only vaguely in the low light—Veritas has a stray thought about how certain bodily changes would force him to remove his piercing temporarily, and how much he would miss it, but that's... not productive at the moment, so he dismisses it immediately.
He refocuses on Aventurine's face, noting the soft smile as he picks up his plate and sets it in his lap. He examines Aventurine's pretty features individually—the shape of his eyes and the long, dark lashes that frame them, the perfect slope of his nose, the slight upturn in the corners of his mouth, and the plush pink of his lips. The holes in his ears are filled with modest emerald green studs which match the one in his navel.
Staring at him, Veritas is reminded of exactly why he'd begun to fall in love with Aventurine in the first place—not because he's uniquely captivating, but because of moments like these, where Aventurine has allowed Veritas to sit in peace with him, just watching, taking him in, neither of them wanting, waiting for, or expecting anything from the other.
"You're incorrect, actually. You look quite beautiful this morning," Veritas says, accidentally, catching both himself and his husband by surprise.
Aventurine freezes, bent over his lap, mouth open with a forkful of egg hovering on its way in. His eyes drift from his breakfast to Veritas, comically wide. While he's taking his time processing what Veritas just said, the egg slips off his fork and tumbles back to the plate below with a wet plop.
Veritas feels his face flush all the way up to his ears and he turns away, burying himself in his mug of tea in hopes that it'll hide the embarrassment well enough. If he gets up to leave or materializes his alabaster headpiece, Aventurine will know right away that he feels an unreasonable sense of shyness, and he's likely to never hear the end of it.
"I, uh...." Aventurine sets his fork down, then leans back against the couch. "I think that's the first time you've ever called me that," he eventually settles on, then takes a deep breath. Veritas finds it impossible to formulate a response to this, so he takes another mouthful of his tea, and Aventurine only lets out a nervous laugh. "No, actually, I'm sure it is. Why does it feel more intimate than telling me you love me?"
"It isn't," Veritas retorts, "It's simply an objective, observable fact. Nothing more."
"Uh huh, and that's why your ears are red," Aventurine needles, though he seems to relax immensely—enough so that he can continue eating his breakfast. Blessedly, he changes the subject. "Are you going in to the office today?"
Veritas shakes his head. "I have finals to grade and my proposal to work on, but there's no reason I can't do both from home."
Aventurine asks, "Could they wait? I was hoping I could spend some time with you today."
Veritas hums at this, only acting as if he needs to give it some thought. In reality, he'd already made up his mind long ago to put off his duties for the day in order to focus on his husband. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt," he says, instead of confessing the truth. He's had enough of that already this morning.
* * *
They finish eating together in relative quiet, and Aventurine follows Veritas to the kitchen when he takes their plates to wash them, hugging onto him from behind while Veritas stands at the sink. This isn't abnormal for Aventurine—he quite enjoys teasing Veritas, pressing against him and feeling him up while he's in the middle of any number of mundane activities—but today is out of the ordinary in the way he slumps, dead weight against Veritas' back.
Veritas can tell from this that Aventurine's low mood is returning—perhaps it never left—and so he allows it without protest, knowing that Aventurine must feel a sense of comfort just by being close to him. The thought, in turn, also comforts Veritas, knowing that he's made his husband feel safe enough to come to him when he's feeling at his worst.
After the dishes done, Veritas prepares a bath for them with Aventurine's preferred scented foam and an army of rubber ducks so Aventurine will have something to occupy himself with while Veritas washes his hair. Predictably, he spends his time while Veritas scrubs his scalp pushing the ducks around, in and out of mountains of bubbles, or dragging them under the water to squeeze all the air out of them only to be surprised every time when he lets them go and they rocket back to the surface. At one point, Veritas looks over his shoulder to find him grouping together two of the larger ducks with two of the smaller ones, and then he lets out a long, heavy sigh.
Veritas asks, "Everything alright?"
Aventurine doesn't answer verbally, but pulls his knees closer to his chest. So, no. Veritas can't say he didn't expect this.
"I'm here to listen if you need it," he adds gently.
"I kind of... just want to go back to bed," Aventurine confesses.
"You can, if being up and about today is something you really don't feel you can handle," Veritas tells him. "We'll finish up here and then you can rest until Topaz arrives. Don't worry about anything else."
To this, Aventurine nods, and slips back into silence while Veritas finishes washing his hair and scrubbing his back. Aventurine attempts to return the favour and Veritas allows it, only because part of him thinks that it might help his husband feel more useful. His hands are gentle in Veritas' hair, slower and more methodical than usual, as if he's savouring the feeling. Whether that's the feeling of his hair—it is as soft as it looks, actually—or the feeling of taking care of his husband in return, Veritas isn't sure. Either way, Aventurine is deliberate in the way he massages Veritas' scalp, the drag of his fingers sending pleasant tremors down his spine, so he just lets it happen.
Afterwards, he helps Aventurine dress comfortably in sweatpants and an over-sized t-shirt—one of Veritas', because he apparently married a thief—then pulls the curtains shut while he settles into bed. The rain has picked back up, and while there isn't much he can do to drown out the sound, he hopes simply blocking the view will help ease his husband's worries, if only somewhat.
For the remainder of the morning, Veritas sits in bed, holding open a hardcover book with one hand while the other cards through Aventurine's silky hair, lifting every so often only to turn a page. His husband's head rests on his thigh and his eyes are closed, though the pattern of his breathing and the way he shifts every now and then to stay comfortable tells Veritas that he's not sleeping. At some point, he sits up and cuddles in close to Veritas' side, and Veritas accommodates him by rubbing his back and shoulder instead.
He's restless, Veritas finds himself thinking around the time that Aventurine starts subtly shifting over into his lap. His foot slips across Veritas' legs, followed by a thin calf and thigh. Then willowy fingers begin creeping across his chest, pausing in the middle to ghost over the skin exposed by the cutout on his shirt.
Does Aventurine think he doesn't notice?
It's so ridiculous that Veritas lets out a long-suffering sigh, far more amused than he sounds. "Darling," he says, setting his book aside. "If you wanted in my lap, all you had to do was say so."
"I want in your lap," Aventurine states, and his voice is so small that Veritas feels his heart ache at the sound.
"It's a little late now. You're already halfway there," he sighs, his arms winding tightly around Aventurine's body to tug him fully over on top of his thighs. Kisses are pressed into sweetly scented hair while Veritas simply holds him, lavishing in his warmth and the steady sound of his breathing right next to his ear. "I know I could never understand how hard this must be for you, but I know you'll get through it. You're already doing so well."
A moment passes before Aventurine speaks. "I want to tell you everything that's going through my mind right now, but...." He has to stop, draw in a long breath that hitches in the middle. "Every time I start to come up with the words, it all just.... It's impossible not to think about it. I watched as my sister was senselessly slaughtered over some stupid Eras-old feud, and then I ran away to save myself, thinking that if I lived then her sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. I hoped that if I lived, our Goddess would protect me, and I could one day go on to save the Avgin people."
Aventurine doesn't finish the story. He doesn't have to. Veritas already knows exactly what happened to the Avgin.
"When you told me the other day, about how you're afraid of losing me because of your own failure.... Those feelings aren't ridiculous. They're real, and they're crippling sometimes," Aventurine murmurs, shifting so he can wipe his eyes on his sleeve, rather than continue letting his hot tears soak into Veritas' shirt. "I should know that better than anyone because I've lived through the exact kind of failure you're afraid of."
"Darling, you don't have to—" Veritas starts, but Aventurine sits up, silencing him with a look.
"Yes, I do. I've been thinking about this for weeks and just... didn't know how to bring it back up." He stops to sniffle, and Veritas leans over to take a tissue off the nightstand for him to wipe his nose with. "It's been years since then, and I still carry all the shame, the guilt, and the self-loathing, and I'm still afraid that it'll somehow happen again. I know how awful it is to live life carrying these thoughts around, and I was still insensitive to how you feel anyway. I didn't have a chance to properly address or apologize for that, so I have to now while it's on my mind."
"Aventurine, you couldn't have possibly known what was on my mind up until the point where I told you," Veritas says, lifting a hand to wipe a stray tear off his husband's cheek with his thumb. "You've had moments where you've completely disregarded my feelings and boundaries, and it's certainly insensitive of you to speak so casually of dying when you know how important your presence in my life is to me. But this situation in specific isn't something I feel I need an apology for."
Aventurine frowns at this, grabs Veritas' wrist, pinning it in his lap. His hand is so much smaller, his fingers thinner and more delicate than Veritas'—noticeably so as he laces them together.
"You don't need an apology, but I do. Can you just let me have this?" he huffs.
Veritas leans back, presses into the pillows behind him with his eyebrows raised. "By all means," he says, "Continue."
"That's...." Aventurine falters. "Actually, that's it. I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted," Veritas returns. "Do you feel better now?"
Aventurine nods, even as he squeezes Veritas' hand, and Veritas pulls him in for a kiss in return.
"Good. Why don't you lay down and get some proper rest while I make us some lunch, then," he suggests, and attempts to slip out from underneath Aventurine.
The response from his husband isn't to obediently remove himself or to protest loudly like he usually would. "Wait," he says instead, and when he does move, it's only so he can use his weight to pull on Veritas' body, effectively toppling them both over. Before Veritas even has a chance to get his bearings, Aventurine is already guiding him closer to kiss him.
In Veritas' mind, this is obviously inappropriate. It's the anniversary of Sigonia-IV's historic massacre, which Aventurine personally bore witness to, and he can't help but feel like Aventurine has some ulterior motive here—to drown out the memories with empty, mind-numbing pleasure. So he tries to push himself up, brushes against his husband's body as he shifts, and ends up drinking in a satisfied sigh as it's breathed from Aventurine's lips.
He's so weak. He's so weak when it comes to Aventurine.
"What if you stay and we have lunch in bed?" his husband suggests, and Veritas....
Maybe just this one time, he catches himself thinking. It would be so easy to cave and give Aventurine what he wants, but in the end, no matter how beautiful he is or how good it feels to be close to him and to provide him with the blissfully sweet pleasure that he's been denied all his life, Veritas knows this is a boundary he cannot cross.
"Please?" Aventurine begs, grazing his teeth over Veritas' lower lip.
"We shouldn't," Veritas says. "You know how I feel about being used as a coping mechanism."
"I'm not—" Aventurine starts, but then cuts himself off, his grip gradually slackening. His eyebrows draw together and his lips thin into a line while he thinks. "No, I am. It wasn't my intention, but that's... what I'm doing, isn't it?"
Veritas only nods at this, pushing himself up to put some space between them. He's still between Aventurine's thighs, staring down at him with his t-shirt pushed up and his thin waist on display. He has to take a deep breath. He'd be lying if he said the sight of his husband splayed out on the bed for him doesn't have him aching, but he's nothing if not perfectly in control of his own urges.
"What was it you wanted, then? I can provide affection and intimacy, but I refuse to be reduced to a tool for you to bury your grief with."
"That's...." Aventurine swallows, and Veritas watches his dual-toned eyes as they trace a line from his jaw to his pelvis, pausing to take a brief sabbatical somewhere in around his chest window. "That's fair. What about just kissing, then?"
Veritas sighs, shakes his head. "I don't mind kissing for stress relief."
"But sex is too far," Aventurine says. There's no judgment in his voice, only understanding, and Veritas is grateful for it.
It takes them a moment to get themselves comfortably arranged. Veritas does most of the heavy lifting, by literally lifting Aventurine to place him among their pillows. Something about it must excite Aventurine because he's already pulling Veritas in by the collar of his shirt before his back hits the bed, making it exceedingly difficult for Veritas to get comfortable.
He settles down at Aventurine's side, drawing his husband's slender body close as Aventurine bites his lip, sneaking his tongue in when Veritas predictably hisses with the sharp pain. While he's thinking of the best way to enact revenge on his dear husband, a shrill sound screeches throughout the apartment, interrupting his train of thought. The door buzzer. Veritas lets out a heavy breath, his forehead falling to Aventurine's shoulder in defeat.
"Must be Topaz," he grumbles, pushing himself up to crawl over top of Aventurine so he can get up off the bed. "I'll go let her in."
* * *
Ultimately, that's how the four of them—Numby included—end up gathered around the coffee table in the living room with an assortment of craft materials spread out between them. A rainbow of different-coloured silk threads lay half-unravelled between several containers of beads and charms, which sit on the table while Aventurine shows both Veritas and Topaz how to tie a simple variation of traditional Avgin Knots of Cyclicality.
"This is what my family used to do every year for the Kakava. We'd spend all day weaving these knots and then at night, they'd all be thrown into bonfires to celebrate the rebirth of Gaiathra Triclops. Traditionally, they were supposed to be gold silk with turquoise beads, but since I'm the only Avgin left, I think I'm allowed to do it however I want," he explains, while carefully tying off the much more intricate gold and green knot he's been working on. He tosses it into a basket that is quite literally filled with Knots of Cyclicality, made from all manner of materials, some of them visibly aged and barely held together, whether that's because of substandard craftsmanship or because of the brittle material that had been used.
"I haven't been able to burn them in years for various reasons," Aventurine continues, "Most of the time I was enslaved or imprisoned, but a lot of it is just that it's rained almost every year on the Kakava since the second extinction event, even after I left Sigonia. At this point, I'm not sure if it's a blessing or a curse."
Once he's finished speaking, Aventurine glances to the side where Veritas is sitting on the couch, struggling with a mess of navy threads. From his seat on the floor at Veritas' feet, Aventurine turns, gently correcting the position of his fingers and helping him get everything back in order. "Here. You're getting better, but let me show you—"
Veritas can't help but peer over at Topaz, who has picked this skill up with much more efficiency, and is already on her third charm. The first two were red threads and white beads, but currently she's working on a black, white, and gold one, which Veritas surmises is meant to represent Numby's colouring. Veritas is still fiddling with his first, and if he seems frustrated, it's because he is.
"Don't worry, Veritas. You're doing fine," Aventurine reassures.
All Veritas can do is sigh. "You're a far more patient educator than I could ever dream of being," he says, fighting off the bitter tone in his voice. "Perhaps one day you'll have children to teach this skill to, and they'll have more of an aptitude than I."
"Until then, he always has me," Topaz needles, grinning when Veritas narrows his eyes in her general direction.
Despite this, Veritas is actually enjoying himself. He's learned more about Avgin culture sitting here with his husband than he has from all the research material available to read, which is something he appreciates for himself, but also....
Aventurine looks truly at peace now. The grief has been hitting him in waves all day, just like the storm outside lashing rain against the windows of the apartment, and there was a moment when Topaz first arrived where he'd put on his mask to greet her out of instinct. It's gone now. He's sitting on the floor, relaxed and smiling with Numby splayed across his lap—probably because he keeps sneaking snacks to them under the table while Topaz is distracted. He's still wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants, but he's since pulled his hair back with a ridiculous array of bobby pins that he wouldn't let Veritas help with, so they're a complete mess, barely keeping his hair out of his face.
He looks so happy when Topaz says something critical but well-meaning to him about how he nitpicks her dexterity and the way she's made her knots. His eyes light up and he laughs, and Veritas feels his heart ache because this is what Aventurine deserves. It's such a strong feeling that it prickles in the corners of his eyes, and he only just gets himself under control when he hears Aventurine say, "That's the kind of thing my sister used to tell me! 'Kakavasha, you're being too judgmental. Kakavasha, let the other kids—'"
Veritas doesn't really hear the rest because his ears are ringing.
There's stunned silence in the apartment. Topaz's eyes widen, and Aventurine can only blink for a moment while he looks back and forth between his husband and his best friend. "Oh, uh. That's... my name," he clarifies, dumbly. "It's not like it's a secret. I just... don't really identify with it anymore, so I didn't think it was important to tell you. I'd rather if you both just—"
Veritas sets his knot down on the table in front of him. He can't.... He can hear Topaz reassuring Aventurine far away in the nebulous somewhere else that is the room around him, but he's stuck in his own mind for now so he's not really listening.
It's too easy for him to connect the dots. The festival called Kakava, and a child who was named Kakavasha. Is it a coincidence? Perhaps. But considering the regard in which the Avgin held their Goddess, Veritas somehow thinks it isn't. The idea of naming one's child for the day in which their Goddess dies and is reborn seems like it should be considered disrespectful to a clan as highly religious as the Avgin were—unless there was significant enough reason to warrant it.
"Veritas?" Aventurine murmurs, and his small hand on his knee is what brings Veritas back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I know something like that, how it must feel to you—"
"Why didn't you tell me it's your birthday?" Veritas nearly snaps, getting straight to the point. He doesn't have time for misplaced apologies when it's as late in the afternoon as it is. He stands, checks the clock on the wall, and storms off into the kitchen to start pulling open cupboards, picking out an eight inch round pan and a cupcake pan, considering both carefully. By the time he uprights himself, both Aventurine and Topaz are standing in the kitchen on the other side of the island from him.
Aventurine doesn't say anything right away, so Veritas holds up the pans, "Do you have a preference?"
"Veritas, what are you...?" Aventurine starts, but then cuts himself off before his question can fully form. There's no point in asking Veritas what he's doing. To anyone who has eyes, it would be obvious. Instead, he asks, "Why are you doing this?"
"You're not denying it, so I'm going to go ahead and presume that my deductions were correct," Veritas says rather than answering. He huffs, more at himself than Aventurine, and puts the cupcake pan away. How silly of him. He doubts Aventurine has ever had a proper birthday cake, and cupcakes would only add insult to injury.
A whole eight inch it is, then.
Aventurine can only stand there, helplessly sputtering, "I— I mean, yeah, there's nothing to deny, but it's just— You don't—"
Thankfully, Topaz steps in while Veritas is busy opening his favourite baking cookbook to a page with a recipe for chocolate cake with strawberry puree filling and a matcha ganache that he could honestly eat on its own if he had any less self-control.
From behind him, he hears Topaz say, in some state of disbelief, "I think he just... wants to make you a cake for your birthday."
There's silence again. Veritas makes his way to the pantry in that time, returning minutes later with his stand mixer in one arm and the other loaded up with most of the necessary dry ingredients. He accidentally makes eye contact with Aventurine on his way back, finding that his husband's expression is completely unreadable.
"Veritas, you don't have to," he says.
"And why not? Something cultural that I'm unaware of?" Veritas queries, only pausing now because he doesn't want to be insensitive if that's the case. He knows already that it isn't because Aventurine doesn't like cake—they've spent enough time eating desserts together in celebration of successful projects for Veritas to have an entire list of Aventurine's preferences—so it must be something else.
Aventurine shifts, worries his lip between his teeth, and Veritas can tell already that there really isn't a reason. "You don't have to go out of your way for me like this. Baking is a lot of work. You don't have to do it just because I'm a year older," he murmurs.
Predictably, it seems that it's just Aventurine's abysmal self-worth flaring up.
Veritas sighs, sets aside what he's doing to come take Aventurine's hands, kissing his knuckles; Topaz has enough wherewithal to read the situation and back off into the living room, where she'll still be able to hear, but won't be standing there watching in case this conversation goes sideways. "You being a year older is exactly the reason why I want to do this for you. Your existence is precious, and it deserves to be celebrated."
"I... I get that, but...." Aventurine hesitates, unsure of himself.
It's just long enough for Topaz's voice to call out from the living room, "Aventurine, just let him bake." And thankfully, it has Aventurine relenting.
"Alright," he sighs. "Okay. But only on the condition that you let me cook dinner in exchange."
Veritas nods at this. "It's not often Aventurine of Stratagems presents a deal that isn't entirely in his favour. I suppose I'd better accept while I still can."
Aventurine nods at this vigorously, his spirits apparently brought back up just at the idea of sharing the workload—of being able to repay Veritas' kindness with his own. In agreement, they're both drawn in together at the same time for a kiss, as if to finalize the transaction. It's chaste, but warm and full of a love that makes Veritas' heart swell; he knows he could stand here like this for hours if Aventurine would let him, so he does the responsible thing and pulls away first. "Now go. I don't need you getting in the way while I'm working."
* * *
After being shooed out of the kitchen, Aventurine had gone back to sitting on the floor in the living room with Topaz, starting a new knot with Numby in his lap. The two had sat mostly in comfortable quiet with their weaving, listening to Ratio working in the kitchen, still gathering and measuring out ingredients while mumbling to himself bitterly. Then, at some point, he'd gone silent for a moment, before he swiftly emerged from the kitchen, practically flying past them in the direction of the bedroom.
"We're out of espresso power," he'd hissed, not at anyone in particular. "I used the last of the eggs this morning, as well."
Aventurine hadn't even had a chance to process this before Ratio had disappeared down the hall, and the look on his face must have been amusing, because Topaz couldn't help but snicker.
When Ratio reappeared, he'd changed clothes to suit the weather, and stormed past on his way to the door. "I am also completely out of baking chocolate, somehow." For a moment more, there had been silence while Ratio slipped on his sandals and a raincoat, then he returned, stooping down to press a gentle kiss to Aventurine's lips. "I'll be right back, Darling. Text me if you think of anything else we need, and keep Miss Topaz out of trouble."
From beside them, Topaz had let out an offended sound, but Aventurine ignored her in favour of accepting another quick kiss before his husband left. "I love you," Aventurine had called after him. "Be safe!"
That was nearly four hours ago.
It's early evening by now, and Aventurine finds himself checking his watch every few seconds, glancing at his phone while he prays silently for the screen to light up with a notification from his husband. The longer he waits, the more tense he feels, his heart pounding in his chest, blood rushing in his ears. The last thing he wants to do is panic in front of Topaz, so he powers through it and tries to focus on the beaded keychain he's been working on for her.
"He'll be okay," Topaz says from next to him, her eyes never straying from the threads in her hands. She's gotten so good at weaving that she's moved onto more complex patterns, and has even started incorporating beads and multiple colours of threads. Aventurine is impressed. "He's more than capable of taking care of himself."
Aventurine shifts in his spot, restless. "I know, but.... He said he'd be right back and it's been hours. You'd think he'd at least text to let me know he's running late."
But he hasn't. The last time he'd done this, he'd disappeared for a whole week, and Aventurine had taken it... badly, to say the least. Now, he's a little better equipped to handle an extended absence, but nonetheless, it scares him. Firstly, the fact that he still can't remember what happened for the fifteen hours he'd gone missing back then. But also because... what if something happened? What if Ratio is hurt? What if he—
"So, I guess things are better between you two now?" Topaz asks, snapping Aventurine out of his spiralling thoughts.
He shrugs in response. "They're not perfect, but they've definitely improved. I took everything you said to heart, and... I think I've been doing a lot better at listening and paying attention to his feelings since then. It hasn't stopped us from having disagreements, but it has kept us from fighting, and I think we've both been a lot happier. So, thank you for knocking some sense into me, and not pulling any punches."
"Hey, that's great! Aventurine, I'm really impressed with you," Topaz practically chirps. "Now I'm curious, though. How did he take the duck?"
The duck.
Aventurine groans at the thought of it. "He said it was the worst gift he's ever received, and obviously I'd feel terrible about that, if he hadn't named it Newton and tried to move it into our bedroom. It lives in the spare room now because I couldn't sleep with it staring me down from the foot of the bed. I'm still not sure, but I think that was supposed to be payback for dragging it home in the first place."
"You kind of deserved it," Topaz says, nodding sagely.
Aventurine sputters, "What— It was your idea! Whose side are you on, anyway?"
"Contrary to what you might think, I'm completely neutral. If you mess up, then I'm on Ratio's side, and if Ratio is... being himself, then I'm on yours," Topaz states with a shrug, tying off her final knot and tossing it into the basket. "Though, thinking about it, the more I get to know him, the more I think I've severely misjudged him."
"Not a difficult feat," Aventurine says, settling back against the couch with a hand on the top of Numby's head. "I did, too, and... you know. Figuring people out is kind of my thing."
Topaz nods, letting out a heavy sigh. "I hadn't really interacted with him much until recently, but the times I had.... Honestly, I hate to say it, but he's always made the experience really unpleasant. I never thought he was a bad person, but he was always so... direct and condescending. He's the only person who's ever made me feel like an idiot," she confesses. "But then... he contacted me that one time when you went on your little escapade, and he sounded so... scared because he couldn't get a hold of you and he didn't know where you were; I didn't even know he could sound like that. After that, he came to me for advice on how to design your ring, and I helped him come up with ideas for weeks before he settled on something he really liked. I remember the day he called me to thank me. He said something like, 'I believe Aventurine will truly love it.' and he sounded so... I dunno, excited? And very much in love. It was really... kind of eye-opening."
Of course, Aventurine knows all this—not these things specifically, but these experiences. He's had his own versions of them as well, mostly.... He thinks, mostly since Penacony. He shouldn't but he wonders if things would still be this way had he not tried to end his own life, and if Ratio hadn't been the one to save him.
"He also...." Topaz pauses, and when Aventurine glances at her, she looks conflicted, staring down at her hands in her lap. "I have to preface this by admitting to you that I haven't always been the friend you thought I was. For a long time, I took you for granted and said some really unsavoury things about you behind your back. Ratio was the one who took me aside and corrected my behaviour; if it weren't for him, I'd probably still be misjudging you as well."
Aventurine soaks this in for a moment, then lets out an audible, "Huh."
That... makes a lot of sense, actually.
"I'm really sorry. I understand now that what I was doing was wrong, even if I thought I was doing it for the right reason. I never should have—"
"No, not that." Aventurine waves her off. "I mean, apology accepted, but I've known you were gossiping about me for ages now. It's not like you ever slandered my good name—I'd have to have a good name in order for you to do that, and it's not defamation if it's all true. You never insulted me because of my race—just my actions—so I never had a problem with it."
Topaz sits there for a moment, blinks, and then it's her turn to say, "Huh." She shakes her head. "Regardless, I'm still sorry. I've felt so ashamed of myself ever since Ratio showed me your letter, I just.... I had to say something."
"My letter?" Aventurine asks, caught off guard by this more than anything.
What letter?
Before he can ask her, though, the apartment door swings open, and Ratio appears, completely soaked from head to toe from the rain. His arms are loaded up with grocery bags—some from their preferred supermarket, but also some that Aventurine doesn't recognize, and if his eyes linger just a little at the sleeves of his jacket pulled taught around his arms, well.... He's very hot, in Aventurine's humble opinion.
Aventurine doesn't let himself think about it, instead shooting up to retrieve a towel from the bathroom so he can dry Ratio off. He returns just in time to see his husband lifting a strange canvas bag with a mesh front onto the kitchen island while it... makes a very weird sound, kind of like—
"Is that a kitty?" Topaz gasps, bending over to peer inside the carrier, effectively blocking Aventurine's view as he enters the kitchen. "Awww, they're so cute!"
"Is that why you were gone so long?" Aventurine asks, tossing the towel onto his husband's head. He pauses to pluck the laurel clip out of Ratio's hair, and then begins drying him once he's bent over enough so that Aventurine can reach without straining.
"Yes, I...." Ratio coughs. Aventurine doesn't need to see his face to know that it's turning red. "I was on my way home with the groceries when this feral little beast charged at me from underneath a dumpster. Naturally, I couldn't just abandon her out in the elements, so I brought her to the nearest veterinarian to be looked after and then taken to a shelter, but, ah...."
Obviously he wasn't able to leave her in the end.
Aventurine wonders if the vet wouldn't take her, or if Veritas simply saw a creature in need and couldn't help himself. He guesses it's the latter.
"Anyway, I've tentatively named her Mnemosyne, and I expect that she'll be staying with us for the next twelve to eighteen years minimum, should you be amicable to the idea."
Thankfully, Aventurine is very much amicable to the idea, especially when he peers into the carrier at the cream-coloured kitten with dark points, likely not more than six months old. The first thing she does upon making eye contact with him is hiss, and he is immediately enamoured.