Work Text:
Dr. Ratio has no other choice but to conclude that the universe is simply against him.
Slumped over in his office chair, shirt stained with coffee, heavy eyebags adorning his face, Ratio wipes the sweaty strands of purple hair out of his eyes and lets out a long, worn out sigh. Exhausted, he takes a look at the time, realizing he’s already far overstayed his welcome, as work had ended hours ago, leaving him alone in the IPC building, accompanied only by his racing heart. Figuring that there is nothing better for him to do, Ratio begins to recall the events of this utterly miserable week, hoping to piece together why exactly it was this terrible.
Monday
He’d overslept.
Normally, Ratio always wakes up before his alarm, turning it off before the horrible blaring noise it emits even has a chance of disturbing his eardrums. However, today was clearly different, as the first thing he is greeted in the morning with is the unmistakable sound of him being late to work. His bleary eyes attempt to adjust to the offensive rays of sunshine obscuring his vision, and after a few moments, Ratio manages to read out the number “9:30” on his clock.
How had he missed so many alarms??
Dumbfounded, Ratio immediately sits up straight, accidentally banging his head on the wall behind him. Groaning, he stumbles out of bed, changing as fast as humanly possible, not affording himself the usual time he gives himself for the other parts of his routine, like skincare and a morning shower. Despite bathing himself every day, Ratio grimaces as he attempts to run his hand through his hair, frowning as he feels oil coat his fingers, stopping after he hit the third knot in his hair.
Just how has it gotten so tangled? He wonders. It was completely fine yesterday…
Frustrated, he grabs his hairbrush off his dresser and begins tugging it through his hair, but instead of helping, it just turns his characteristic waves into a big, poofy mess. Ratio knows that if Aventurine saw him now, his mouth would stretch into a cheeky grin, eyes twinkling as he looked upon Ratio’s misfortune, he’d liken the doctor to a disgruntled poodle, rather than the distinguished scholar he is.
How mortifying.
Figuring he has no other choice, Ratio grabs a hair tie and manages to make a half decent ponytail out of the veritable mop on his head, although it is by no means perfect, as the tie struggles to contain each strand of hair, both too short and too thick to ever look proper.
However, Ratio has no time to waste, so he supposes he should count his blessings; he wasn’t teaching this week, only having been scheduled for meetings with Aventurine, filling out some menial preliminary work on an upcoming mission.
He mulls over the pros and cons.
This is incredibly good news, as it means the only person he would have to encounter for extended periods of time was Aventurine, who wouldn’t be too upset at his tardiness, and he could just wear the bust around anyone else who tried to talk to him.
This is incredibly bad news, as it means the only person he would have to encounter for extended periods of time was Aventurine, who would absolutely make fun of him for the state he was in now, and unlike everyone else, Ratio had made a small promise to himself to not wear his bust around the gambler, meaning he couldn’t even attempt to hide his disheveled state, as much as he wants to.
Sighing, Ratio pulls out his phone, looking for messages from Aventurine, and surprise surprise, the gambler had left about a million texts asking about his whereabouts, all of which were left unanswered. Fortunately, Ratio had enough sense to have shared his location with Aventurine long ago, who had clearly noticed he hadn’t left his home yet, coming to the conclusion that Ratio dreaded him reaching.
Words cannot do justice to the expression that crosses Ratio’s face as he reads the words “sleep well, princess?” on his screen. Dumbfounded, he checks the timestamp, and to his surprise, Aventurine had sent the message approximately a few minutes ago… coincidentally exactly when Ratio finally woke up, as if that damn gambler knew somehow.
Well, at least Aventurine wouldn’t scold him for being late.
This is going to be a long week.
Tuesday
Ratio forgot his lunch.
Normally, if one were to arrive at the right time, they could find the doctor eating one of his favorite foods- cold, plain spaghetti- in his office for lunch, and rather unceremoniously too, especially by the standards strangers would hold him to. There have been many a time where Aventurine has stumbled into Ratio’s office, only to find a piece of pasta dramatically sliding off his cheek, plopping onto the awaiting desk, usually followed by a piece of chalk thrown violently in the gambler's direction. Typically, Ratio would be much more mannered with his eating, considering he despises grotesqueness in others, even more so for himself.
However, at the end of the day, he’s just a man, and men get hungry, especially after working on projects for hours without breaks, meaning the elegant scholar has been no stranger to scarfing down meals like a toddler every now and again, and today would be no exception… if he remembered his lunch.
“Oh well” he had figured, and then tried to reach for his wallet… only to realize he forgot that as well.
Ratio has no time to go home and retrieve either of them, and seeing as he was back on for a meeting with Aventurine in approximately ten minutes, all he can do in the meantime is lay back in his chair and contemplate the decisions (mistakes) that had led him here.
He swears he grabbed his wallet off the counter. He swears he opened his fridge and shoved his lunch into his bag before racing out the door, unwilling to be late after the disaster that was the day prior. However, swearing isn’t enough, leaving Ratio entering the meeting room with Aventurine wallet-less, lunch-less and starving.
Fortunately, once Ratio sits down, the gambler has already started rambling about something or other, which helps to distract Ratio from his ever present discomfort, even if his struggles to catch the other man’s words. Being hungry has never been this distracting before.
“So that’s how I propose we tackle this-“ Aventurine pauses.
Ratio blinks back at him.
“-Did your… did your stomach just growl, doc?” He asks amusedly, although with a hint of earnest concern in his voice.
Ratio sighs for what must be the 50th time this week, even if it’s only a Tuesday. “Yes.” He admits sheepishly, eyes darting to the corner of the room.
Aventurine doesn’t take offense to the other’s inability to meet his gaze, instead standing up and walking over to Ratio, gently putting his hand on the doctors’ shoulder.
“Want me to buy you lunch?” Aventurine offers, with a soft twinkle in his eyes that Ratio rarely gets the honor of witnessing often.
“That… that would be much appreciated.” He mumbles. “Thank you, gambler.” He says softly, voice barely a whisper, although Aventurine still picks up on it, of course.
“Anytime, doc.”
Wednesday
Finally everything is going well for Ratio.
He woke up on time, he double-triple-quadruple checked to make sure he had everything; his lunch, his wallet, his keys, his papers, his dignity- everything.
So he marched his way out the door, ready for a bright new day, hopefully free of all the distractions of the two prior, only to be met with an apocalyptic amount of rain as soon as he steps two feet outside.
Ratio barely managed to run to his car and drive to work, careful to mind the traffic along the way, but the damage was already done.
All Aventurine can do is stare at him, speechless, as Ratio walks into the meeting room, looking like he was personally subject to a category 5 hurricane, oh how he could have used that on Monday. Moreover, assuming the universe would throw a wardrobe malfunction in the near future based on how this week had been going, Ratio decided to wear a simple white shirt, one that has no chance of messing up unless he decided to put sauce on his spaghetti for some ungodly reason.
However, that seemingly clever decision turned out to be a fashion nightmare, as now that white shirt clung tightly to his skin, leaving absolutely nothing to anyone’s- particularly Aventurine’s- imagination.
The damn thing is practically see-through.
Ratio can feel Aventurine’s eyes glued onto his chest as he awkwardly shuffles into the meeting room, places his stuff by the door and sits down, unable to meet the gambler’s gaze once more. Subconsciously, Ratio crosses his arms over his chest, sinking down into the chair a bit, which finally causes Aventurine to speak up.
“Apologies for staring.” He says, surprisingly sincerely. “Do you want a towel or something..” Aventurine continues, trailing off as he glances at Ratio’s waterlogged hair, which is currently sticking to his face. Ratio offers no response, but this doesn’t stop Aventurine from walking over from and brushing the wet strands out of his eyes, which at last causes Ratio to look up at him.
“What are you doing?” He deadpans, giving Aventurine a warning glare, feeling heat begin to rise in his cheeks. Perhaps that would cause him to finally dry off.
“They were in your way.” Aventurine replies, embarrassedly backing off, returning to his own chair, but this time, Ratio is the one who refuses to avert his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, yet Aventurine practically crumbles under the doctor’s intense gaze, which refuses to leave even as Aventurine pulls out the paperwork.
“Enough staring, Doc.” Aventurine says at last. “You make a man feel like a butterfly pinned down on a slide with those eyes of yours.” He remarks, finally returning the eye contact, only to discover that Ratio had long since looked away, cheeks still a flaming red.
What was he looking at? He wonders, noticing now Ratio’s shoulders tremble slightly as he mutters out a half-assed apology.
“Are you- are you cold Ratio?” The stoneheart asks, earning a mumbled “yes” from the other man.
So he was eyeing my jacket… well…
Aventurine immediately stands up again and shifts over to Ratio’s side of the desk, taking off his coat and wrapping it around the other man. He doesn’t miss how Ratio’s eyes widen at the sight of him, or how they slowly trail down Aventurine’s body, just as he had done so prior. Their eyes linger on one another for a moment, soaking in the sights before their dignities catch up with them, which doesn’t take long. Aventurine scurries back to his desk, plopping down onto his chair, steam practically coming out of his ears. Ratio is no better, burying his face into the side of Aventurine’s jacket, tugging it a little tighter around himself, remarking just how much it smells like the gambler’s signature cologne…
“…Let’s just get back to work, Doc.”
Thursday
Ratio is prepared today.
He has everything. He looked up the weather forecast for the rest of the week. He is prepared. He is ready. Nothing will go wrong today. Nothing will leave him shivering on his chair, pulling Aventurine’s jacket tightly around himself as he tries desperately to hide his mounting embarrassment and arousal. Nothing will cause the almost ravenous look on Aventurine’s face when he witnessed Ratio’s unconscious appreciation for his help. Ratio definitely wasn’t into that. No, nothing of that sort. He wasn’t infatuated with the familiar scent of Aventurine, or how freely the other man offered his jacket to him. He didn’t want to beg Aventurine to warm him up in another manner. He was fine. This was all just nothing. Everything will be normal.
Everything.
Otherwise Ratio’s rationality will fail him for good, because he knows he can’t take this much longer.
His arrival to work is suspiciously ordinary, going exactly as he planned. Traffic was even lighter than usual today, causing Ratio to arrive early for once in the damned week. He parks his car and walks onto the pavement in front of the office, but Ratio will not allow his vigilance to falter, even for a seemingly mundane activity such as entering a building. He suspiciously eyes everything in sight, from the nearby dumpster to his coworkers walking past to the cigarette butts piled up onto the side of the street as if he’s a detective attempting to solve a harrowing murder case, and not a 29 year old man trying his damndest to not reveal his feelings for his strategic partner.
Fortunately, arriving at the office foyer also goes smoothly- uncharacteristically smoothly. Ratio knows something stupid should have happened to him by now. He hauls the binder of files and papers he’s been carrying close to his chest as he speeds through the halls, praying he can make it to his personal office this time without failure. Ducking and weaving through the narrow hallways, Ratio just barely avoids crashing into several people, who huff vague insults under their breath as he practically teleports past them, running as if he doesn’t have a second to spare, despite being around 24 minutes early to their meeting.
Ratio cannot let anything go wrong.
And that is precisely why it does go wrong, as once he rounds the corner, shoving open his office door and dashing inside he immediately crashes into- you guessed it (and he did too) -one Aventurine of Stratagems, causing Ratio to trip and fall himself, bringing Aventurine down with them, resulting in them creating a mess of papers and limbs on the carpet floor. At least the universe had enough mercy to dramatically shut the door behind them, especially considering how mortifying their positions are now.
Ratio’s back is to the floor, and having borne the brunt of the blow, he’s left gasping for air, head spinning as his hair is hung messily on his face and the documents he was carrying frame his body like the world's most corporate snow angel. Aventurine isn’t much better- he’s still slightly dazed- however he recovered much faster only to realize that he is now straddling Ratio, hands placed on either side of the doctor’s flushed face, wide magenta eyes meeting half-lidded dawn ones.
Thank Gaithra nobody would dare disturb us here… Aventurine’s mind muses as he crawls off a still reeling Ratio, attempting to get back to the seat Ratio gave him. The doctor had decided to move their meetings to one of his personal offices, likely out of fear that a stranger could stumble into the shenanigans born of what could only be described as one of the weirdest weeks of their lives. He wanted to stay there and help Ratio get up, but that would make him aware of the… predicament Aventurine is facing currently, so he’d rather not risk it. Either way, Ratio was plenty capable of standing up on his own, so offering an outstretched hand would likely be turned down regardless.
He’s already planning on shamefully filing that mental image away for later when Aventurine spots Ratio getting up.. only to bend over and start picking up the scattered papers.
Aventurine’s heart is about to burst out of his chest.
He quickly (and loudly) spins around, staring at the ceiling, pretending to be deeply fascinated in the white paint that coats the walls of Ratio’s office. Aventurine can hear small scuffling noises- the sound of Ratio gathering up all the papers- as well as some mumbled mutterings from Ratio, likely annoyed that Aventurine did not offer to help him clean up, yet too tired to bother with it. The Stoneheart hears a loud sigh over his shoulder, and finally turns to look at a disgruntled Ratio, walking with the messy pile of documents held tight into his arms.
Aventurine is just about to thank Ratio for cleaning the mess up when the doctor trips one more, nearly face planting into the wall had he not let go of the papers again to break his fall.
This time, Ratio doesn’t even make an effort to get up, simply lying on the floor and wallowing in his misery. Even Aventurine of all people doesn’t have the heart to tease him, so he instead gets up and meticulously gathers the now crumpled sheets into his arms, careful to not disturb Ratio, who buried his head in the carpet. Despite his indigo hair being ruffled by the fall, Aventurine can still spot the red tips of Ratio’s ears peeking out from the messy strands framing his face, and if he was being honest, he couldn’t blame the man. Tripping twice in front of a stranger is already embarrassing enough- but your coworker? Your strategic partner nonetheless? Aventurine wouldn’t wish Ratio’s current situation on his worst enemy, especially considering how terrible his week has been going.
He’s long since cooled off of the embarrassment from before, so Aventurine kneels by Ratio’s head, bringing his lips to the other man’s ear.
“Do you need help getting up?” He whispers, earning a muted murmur of approval in response.
Ratio does not even attempt to meet his gaze as Aventurine helps him crawl to his feet, but Ratio’s gripping the Stoneheart’s offered hand far tighter than Aventurine thinks he realizes. It’s not often Ratio’s upset results in his silence, and Aventurine’s grown to realize why- he means it this time. The outraged expressions, the creative insults, his dismissive “hmphs” may read as genuine agitation to someone not familiar with Ratio, but Aventurine has understood for quite a while that’s not really the case. It’s part of their friendly banter, although not appearing so on the surface, or it's part of Ratio’s strange sense of humor, or a result of his poor communication skills, or really anything unserious in nature. Aventurine wishes the doctor would partake in any of those behaviors currently, because if he doesn’t, that means Ratio is upset, for real this time, and Aventurine hates it.
He hates seeing the bags under Ratio’s eyes, the fake, worn out smile on his face, the excitement drained from his slumped figure. Sure, Aventurine amusement at Ratio being late, or his offering to buy him lunch, or giving him his jacket felt fun and rewarding in the moment- a stroke of good luck perhaps- but he sees now just how much it’s been weighing on the other man.
Aventurine has had a good week, an excellent one even, but he knows Ratio is feeling the exact opposite, and that puts a damper on any enjoyment he might have sustained prior.
However, Ratio clearly does not want to address the situation, so Aventurine sits quietly on the other side of Ratio’s desk, waiting for the scholar to gather his thoughts and continue on with the meeting.
Friday
Ratio couldn’t care less how his morning goes- he just knows something bad is going to happen anyways.
He doesn’t bother with his usual intensive skincare routine. He doesn’t bother checking the weather, or ensuring he has everything with him. He takes public transportation, he ignores the concerned and confused glances the other passengers give him. He barges straight into the office, not bothering to spare a second glance at anything, not even attempting to dry off his shoes still slick from the morning rain. He forgot his lunch again. He doesn’t care.
Ratio meanders to his office, arriving to the meeting he scheduled 30 minutes late, met only an unsurprised Aventurine, who is looking at Ratio like he’s a cat that got mud paw prints all over the carpet- although considering the state of Ratio’s shoes and overall appearance, he supposes he was only slightly more dignified than a messy animal, leaving several dirty footprints behind of his own.
Yabuli is going to kill him.
However, Ratio couldn’t be any less concerned about her eventual mentorly scolding as he already had another worried person to dissuade- Aventurine.
Ratio sighs despite himself, wondering how he somehow managed to be such a nuisance to the other man this week despite his best efforts. Moreover, now that he wasn’t even trying at all, a looming sense of guilt begins to worm its way into the forefront of Ratio’s brain while his traitorous mind replays all the incidents that occured in the days prior. The scholar can’t help but feel disappointed in himself, knowing that this week was supposed to be easy, knowing that it should have been easy, but the world itself just wasn’t in his favor, and his own ridiculous mistakes weren’t doing much to remedy that either.
This day just needs to be over already.
He continues to ignore Aventurine’s stare, pulling out some freshly printed copies of the documents he ruined yesterday, slamming them on the table. Ratio flips through them, snatching a pen off of his desk, his normal neat handwriting abandoned as he practically scratches through the paper, filling out the boxes and questions and signatures as fast as possible. He’s like a machine, completing page after page after page, tossing the minimal sections Aventurine has to fill out in his direction as he goes along, creating a messy stack on the other end of the table, but Ratio doesn’t care.
He will finish all this paperwork today. He will make up for lost time. He will not-
Aventurine catches his wrist.
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past five minutes!” The stoneheart exclaims. “You clearly haven’t been feeling your best lately, but that’s no excuse to just- rush all this!-“ He pulls up a slightly crumpled document, displaying the absolute travesty of handwriting covering it. “-This is illegible, Doc! Even I can’t read this- so how do you think the higher ups will? Slow down, Ratio.” He commands, breathing a sigh of frustration, letting his concern slip into his voice a little bit. Aventurine knows outright stating he’s worried about Ratio will get him nowhere. However, convincing he’s doing a sloppy job at filling out the paperwork (and truthfully, he is) will at least get Aventurine somewhere, because Ratio refuses to accept half-assed work, especially from himself.
“Fine.” The doctor mutters, straightening out the next document, slowly and painfully taking his time to read it over, pen strokes becoming long and languished as he etches letter by letter into the document mechanically, perfectly, and in an utterly mechanical manner.
Aventurine can’t quite believe it.
Ratio, through sheer pettiness, somehow found a way to go even slower than before, although at least this time, one could actually read what he wrote on the page. Still, the absolute petty childishness from someone who normally at least tries to reign in his dramatic tendencies comes as a shock to Aventurine, who’s never seen Ratio behave this way prior.
The doctor has had his moments of frustration, sure, and Aventurine recalls those rare moments quite well. However they usually manifested in quick, malicious outbursts, expressions of anger or annoyance that Ratio had been holding in for hours or days on end, and always followed by an immediate apology- nothing Aventurine can’t handle.
But this?
A deep set, almost unshakable frustration that perhaps began even before the nightmare of a week Ratio has been having. Not that anything that happened to him was particularly bad, of course, but perhaps that was exactly the problem. Unlike most negative events, nothing that he had experienced this week was particularly remarkable, they were all just highly, highly unlucky.
Aventurine gasps, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.
Those events had been very, very lucky on Aventurine’s end.
Was that curse which proclaimed itself a gift attempting to claim yet another person Aventurine cared for?
He took a deep breath, eying Ratio, who was still writing at a snail's pace, the lines in his face having softened slightly as he began to process his frustration.
Lets not jump to conclusions, Aventurine. He assures himself, a determined look twinkling in his eyes as he plans his next course of action.
“Ratio.” Aventurine exclaims, which to his delight, actually gets the other’s attention this time. Ratio tilts his head at him, not angry per say, but giving Aventurine a warning look, daring him to waste his time any longer. “I realize I have some personal work to handle for this assignment, so I’ll reconvene back with you at the end of the day.” He explains. Ratio gives him a curt nod, returning to the documents, his pen lightly brushing against the paper. Aventurine waves a small goodbye and walks out the door, hoping his little white lie didn’t get him in trouble later.
He did have personal work to attend to- he’s going to start planning on how to give his dear doctor the best night of his life, hopefully making up for the absolute misery of a week he’s been having.
_________________________
Ratio finally finishes his paperwork.
It’s 7pm, his shirt has been stained with coffee, having spilled it on himself hours prior. He’s exhausted, sweaty, starving, and just about finished with this damn office building and the horrid assignment he’s been forced to complete, but at least his paperwork is done, and there’s nobody here to witness him in this reprehensible state as he wearily rises from his chair and walks towards the filing area, intending to submit it into the system and be done with it for good.
However- predictably, considering how this week is going- someone gets in his way.
And that someone is none other than Aventurine, of course.
The gambler eyes him up and down, spotting the large stain on his shirt, and mercifully electing to not make fun of Ratio for it, before backing up, blocking the other man’s path.
Ratio scoffs.
“Must you insist on getting in my way? Please allow me to put them away, Aventurine.” He seethes, frustrated that the stoneheart still doesn’t budge. “Why are you insisting on being so difficult?” His words ring out in the empty hallway, freezing the other man in place.
“I was coming to me with you again, remember? Apologies for blocking your path, I just wanted to help you put them away, those are a lot of papers after all.” Aventurine finally admits, eyeing the sizable stack in Ratio’s arms, with his honesty making Ratio feel like he just kicked a puppy.
“Sorry.” He mumbles handing half of them over to him as they walk side by side silently towards the filing room.
“You know...” Aventurine starts as soon as they walk through the door, an excited look now on his face, which makes Ratio hold his tongue for a brief moment. “...You’ve clearly had a long week, so why don’t we go out to dinner or do something nice?” Ratio’s eyes widen a bit at that, and it hits Aventurine that he practically just asked the other man out on a date. “Uh- not like that!” He clarifies quickly, heat rising on his face. “I just- think you need a break, that’s all!”
Ratio chuckles a bit, endeared by Aventurine’s concern. Usually the other man never offered things such as these, knowing Ratio wasn’t the gift loving type, and that Ratio knew he only tended to give such gifts when he intended to win clients over. However, this proposal is nothing of the sort, born entirely of sincerity, so even as Ratio shoves the files into the machine, he can’t help but mull it over.
Going out would be favorable. He thinks, shoving the last of the papers into the machine, turning to look back at Aventurine, who had long since finished.
But…
“That’s a lovely proposal, Aventurine. However, I’m-“ he chokes up a bit, not realizing it hurts so much to admit, “-I’m feeling rather tired right now, and I’d prefer to go home. I would be partial to going out tomorrow though.” He concludes. At his words, Aventurine’s face brightens up, and Ratio can already see the gleeful scenarios running through his mind as he thinks of the places he plans on taking Ratio.
Unfortunately for Ratio, it’s not all smooth sailing from here.
He’s about 5 steps from his office, Aventurine in tow, cheerily rattling off several ideas- an aquarium visit does sound nice- before Ratio remembers something terrible.
He took public transport to work today.
There’s no more buses at this time of day.
And it’s about an hour commute back to his place.
“I can’t get home.” Ratio blurts out freezing in place, which also stops Aventurine in his tracks.
“What do you mean?” Aventurine quickly asks, and Ratio relays the situation to him.
“That’s unlucky.” The other man replies, a strangely guilty expression on his face. “I could drive you home?” He immediately offers, and Ratio considers it.
There were many factors to take into account. If Ratio accepts, he knows this will mean Aventurine has to drive at least two hours to both get Ratio and then himself home. Moreover, the weather had been rather terrible lately, seeing as Ratio has gotten rained on twice this week, the roads likely aren’t the safest. Also, currently, the season for this planet is their equivalent of the late fall, meaning it’s already dark outside, and although this area didn’t have much wildlife, the risk of deer was still nothing to be scoffed at.
However, the alternative was staying inside the office building all night until the buses came back up in the morning- seriously you think the IPC would have invested in better public transportation here, seeing as so many of their workers chose to live here. Ratio supposes he could call a cab, but that was always risky considering few came by here at night, and not many wanted to drive for an hour straight this late.
All my options seem utterly miserable, no outcomes are favorable… unless…
“Could you drive me back to your house?” Ratio asks, earning a slow, confused blink from Aventurine in response.
“I- yes. Yes I can, but uh, why doc?” The gambler questions, looking at Ratio as if he just grew three heads.
“Well I’m sure neither of us would like to endure several hours of driving in this weather, plus I haven’t seen the cat cakes in a while… So, if it isn’t a bother, could I stay the night at your place? If that’s fine by you- I mean.”
A silence fills the air.
Ratio does his best to hide it, but he’s practically shaking in his boots, fearful that the other man will decline and burst out into laughter for even suggesting that.
He’s also afraid to admit that’s not the real reason he wants to go home with Aventurine, and the other man will see right through him.
Fortunately, Aventurine does nothing of the sort.
“Of course.” He replies softly. “Besides, the cats have been missing you…”
________________
Full from dinner, clean from a bath, and in new, warm pajamas (courtesy of Aventurine’s closet), Ratio relaxes on Aventurine’s couch, holding one of the cat cakes in his lap.
Soon, the other man joins him, and Ratio feels his heart skip a beat as the cushions beside him dip, and his shoulder lightly brushes against Aventurine’s, who’s busy fiddling with the TV remote. The hands of the clock begin to spin. There’s some nature documentary on now, with the chirping of birds and the roaring of lions echoing in the distance. The world fades into silence, the sounds of Aventurine’s voice, and the cats meowing, and the ambiance of the forest muffling until they dissipate entirely. Ratio pulls on the thick blanket stretched softly around him, curling inwards on himself, his cheek brushed against a warm shoulder, and allows the night to claim him at last.
Perhaps this wasn’t such an unlucky week after all.