Chapter Text
“Ah, welcome, gentlemen. Thank you for attending. Refreshments and food are available by asking any waitstaff with blue ties, or approaching the bar. Please, enjoy yourselves.”
The stoneheart boldly shoves the door open ahead of the woman, glancing back to watch his associate breeze past him. He follows Ratio closely, and parallels his movements under the low lights as bodies shift around to make use of the venue's amenities. The room is noisy with hushed conversations between several segregated cliques. He can hear waitstaff hiking buckets of ice onto tables, where the contents crunch together and grind against the edges of the metallic container. Glasses clink and wine flows. Cheers grow.
Ratio groans.
It's a room full of rich people.
Aventurine can sympathize.
“Find an empty corner and we'll stick to it.” Aventurine goads, just loud enough to be heard from behind.
The scholar doesn't hesitate to push ahead through the thin crowd. He acts as a plow for the shorter man behind him, and also a partition. Seeing a stoneheart makes rooms tend to shift their attention. Aventurine wants to avoid it for just a moment.
Their journey ends in a far corner, nestled by the unstaffed and vacant end of the quaint bar. The venue is a bit too big to have any dense crowding of the elite in the room (at least where there isn't something of interest), and the pair are thankful as they crash into the curved sofa, heads aimed at the bar, and one glance away from people watching.
Running a hand through dark hair, Ratio sighs. “This is as close to private as we'll get…”
“It's just fine.” The blond huffs, tilting his head back against the plush sofa and shutting his eyes. “As long as no one bothers me–”
“Did you two gentlemen need anything?”
Opening his eyes and looking down, he observes a young waiter of similar build to him, nervously bowing at the hip and fixing his blue tie.
Ratio waves a hand. “No, just priva–”
“Liquor.”
The Mundanite snaps his eyes over to watch the stoneheart coyly hold his hand out to cup over Ratio’s and lower it for him. He begrudgingly obeys and keeps both hands in his lap as he keeps watching the other.
“Something rich and sophisticated for my intellectual friend. Nothing too high in proof.” He hums, pulling his hand back to fidget with his rings. “And for me…something interesting. Colorful, maybe. With vodka.” The waitstaff is paused for a moment, mouth open to speak, before he shuts it and thinks. Aventurine’s eyes snap up from his rings when given no response for a few seconds. “Is that an impossible ask?”
“No, sir- I'll be back briefly.”
Aventurine’s hand settles into his lap, and the other coasts along the back of the couch as the pair watch the young man rush away to the more populated part of the bar.
“Why entertain the offer?”
“It's his first time serving at an event like this by himself. You can tell.” Aventurine smirks, leaning forward to look past Ratio to continue watching the man. “It's cute when someone's nervous like that. Kinda charming and funny…”
“Pushing buttons is your specialty, of course.”
Aventurine turns his head back to Ratio with a smile. “My specialty is pushing the right buttons, doctor~” he muses, leaning back into his seat, a mere arms length away from his business partner. “Like the ones that lead you here, keeping me company.”
“We were both required to attend. The Intelligentsia Guild set me as their attendee. The pieces merely laid themselves out that way.” He hums, calmly crossing his legs as he fixes the edges of his suit jacket.
“And certain things lead them to fall that way.” The stoneheart sighs, rubbing his chin. “Like…blond sigonian thralls making a few calls here and there.”
“I'm not one to put it past you.”
“Woah!” Aventurine scoffs, shooting a glance over. “Not even asking for details?”
“They don't seem important. Unless I really need to know, your schemes are best to be concealed. Am I mistaken?”
“Mh…” the blond stares for a moment into the sunrise, before he stirs awake. “I suppose not. All that matters is that I'm not sitting here losing my mind by myself. The company is appreciated.”
“Glad to know my company is worth the scheming.”
“Well, of course.” Aventurine purrs, slowly crossing his leg to mirror that of Ratio’s; the soles of their dress shoes a few inches apart. “You're one of the only people who puts up with me.”
“I'm one of the only people who realizes the benefits of it.”
“Oh? You're in it for something?”
“On the contrary. The benefit of putting up with you is having you put up with me.”
“How poetic.” the blond scoffs.
“Isn't it?”
The pair settle into silence for a moment, until their drinks arrive on a tray carried by the same young man as before. When the pair both stare at him, he bows his head and fidgets. He holds the tray with one palm, while he lifts the drinks to the men with the other. Aventurine is handed a tall wine glass showing off a gradient of red and orange. The handoff is tricky with how the waiter had been holding the stem of the glass, but Aventurine smiles graciously and holds it to his chest while watching the scene continue. The waiter sets his hand around a stout glass of honey colored liquor, and gestures it to an unmoving Ratio.
Aventurine’s eyes pass between the drink and the scholar, scanning his expression and body language.
“You’re actively touching where my lips would go on the glass.” Ratio finally points out, staring at the drink blankly.
“Ah-I'm sorry,” the man flusters. “My gloves should–”
“I'm not taking the drink, I don't know where your gloves have been.” Ratio's eyes narrow. The waiter calmly straightens up.
Aventurine slowly takes a sip from his glass as he observes.
“I'll…be right back with another.” He fumbles, turning on his heel.
“Another of mine too–” Aventurine calls out with a wave.
Both heads turn to observe him.
Ratio quirks a brow. “Something wrong with yours?”
“No, I just want another.” He smiles, eyes never leaving the nervous young man. “When he gets back, I'd like him to practice a proper handoff.” He hums, finally glancing to Ratio at his side. “Just…looking to educate. You can get behind that, right?” He chuckles.
Ratio tilts his head in acknowledgement before aiming his gaze at the staff again. “My associate is not asking much, if you could please entertain him.”
“Ah…yes, of course.” The staff bows again, before hurrying off.
When he's determined they're isolated, the doctor looks back to his companion. “What's really wrong with the drink?”
“Tch,” Aventurine swirls his glass around, watching the colors dance, “as I said, nothing.”
Ratio hums skeptically as he watches the blond take a drink. “Is that so?”
“If you must know, dear doctor,” he sighs dreamily as he parts with the glass and turns his head to admire his company, “It gets another drink for me here quicker.”
“Why not simply ask for another drink without the whole complaint behind it?”
“Well he really could use pointers on how to serve, I wasn't lying with that.” He shakes his head, dancing the rim back to his lips. “I didn't really feel like making it seem as though I had a drinking problem.”
“You’re caring about the perceptions of waitstaff, now?” Ratio scoffs, leaning onto the arm of the couch and looking back at him inquisitively.
“You should. Everybody underestimates the help, you know. Overlooked and thought to be unable to think for themselves. They make some of the best informants, but even without ulterior motives, they're great in gossip amongst themselves.” He beams, smirking at his associate from over his glass. “And rumors surrounding the rich and powerful can spread like wildfire.”
“Does this come from experience, then?” Ratio probes.
“Depends. From which side of the coin do you wanna hear from?” He prompts back with a bit of bite as his voice lowers down with the softening lights.
“The question is, do I really want to hear about any of the drama?”
“Mh…” Aventurine slowly unfurls to lean up into the back of the seat. “Probably not. You don't seem the type to care for gossip anyhow.”
“An accurate assumption.” Ratio confirms with a confident nod.
The stoneheart simply beams back in response, lowering his glass and flicking his eyes back to the returning company. Replica drinks are back on their tray.
“Apologies for before, sirs,” the young man stammers, lifting a hand towards the glasses.
“Aht aht ah!” Aventurine clicks his tongue, and shakes his head as he beckons the waiter closer with a single finger. “We take the glasses off ourselves. You touching them adds more steps to serving than needed.” He explains.
The youth hesitantly steps closer, but still a bit out of reach.
“Come on, are you gonna make me work for it~?” Aventurine laughs, arm loosely extended to the tray. “I have to sit up to get my drink? I don't bite, kid.”
Obediently, the young man steps closer, allowing the stoneheart to finally hold duplicate drinks in either hand.
“Good. Now, my friend here.” Aventurine continues, his voice gaining a lighthearted cadence as the waiter gestures the tray towards Ratio. “When a person orders a drink, they usually know what it looks like. They name what they know.” He hums, watching Ratio wrap his fingers around the short glass and calmly take it away. “I admit we are not the normal case. You had good intentions to hand us our drinks since we didn't order by name, and frankly, we probably should have approached the bar for requesting a drink by description.” He sighs, admiring his company's profile as he takes a sip. “Be that as it may, the customer can be smart, even if most of them are acting stupid. I think it's fairly obvious to us which drinks were ours.” He hums, looking between their glasses. “Thank you, though. That will be all.”
Without any other words, the young man graciously bows his head before turning tail.
Aventurine prioritizes watching his drinks swirl around, briefly entranced by the dancing colors. He continues drinking from the original one, locked into his choices with a lack of hand usage. As a result, he drinks a bit fast to rid himself of the burden.
“I can grab a table for you if you want somewhere to put the damn things.” Ratio scoffs, observing blankly as he cradles his own drink near his lips.
Parting from the glass, Aventurine clears his throat. “That'd be annoying. I don't think people wanna hear much scraping on the ground. Though, who am I kidding, you could probably lift it with one arm.”
“Well how heavy are the tables?”
“They're all taken probably, no sense dwelling on it or even looking over there. I have no other obligations for my hands.” He hums, staring ahead at the bar as he reels his head back again to keep drinking.
The next few minutes are passed in silence until the blond finally finishes the liquor, even shaking the glass a bit above his stuck out tongue to confirm he hadn't missed a drop.
“I take it you liked it.”
“Hold that thought.” Aventurine excuses himself by getting to his feet and pacing over to the bar to set the empty glass there before turning to head back while comically rolling his wrist. “If I'm honest, I've had better and I've had worse.” He laughs, turning to sit once more beside his associate. “So I suppose I'm content.”
“Are you, now?” Ratio hums, glancing down at him.
“With my drinks, yes. If you're implying generally and are preparing to make a witty remark as to how I'm never content because of my constant chase of gambles, then I'm sad to say that you're correct.” Aventurine hurries out, before turning his head to smirk up at the other. “I'm never content.”
“Then, if I may ask, what are you chasing after right now?”
“Oooh, doctor!” The blond begins laughing. “Asking a man what he desires? In the dimly lit corner of a bar? After he's had a drink in him~?”
“My implications are not of that sort.”
“Well you don't have to object so quickly!” His laughter continues as he leans into the sofa and sets his lips to his next glass. “Doesn't make a guy feel too great about himself.”
“Ah, my apologies. Did you arrange my being here so that I could help stroke your ego?” Ratio adds, deadpan as he nurses his short glass.
“I wouldn't need you here for that. The other side of the room is full of rich bastards.” He murmurs to him, leaning close to dissuade any overhearing. “They could spew compliments all night to try and butter me up, but you're a reprieve.” He clicks his tongue, shutting his eyes as he gets comfy. “In all honesty, I'm repeating myself. I brought you here to have some honest words in a night of lies.”
“You are aware we do not have to be here. This is an after party. We may leave at any time.”
“Mh, appearances can be everything.”
“You're hiding behind me in a corner.”
“I am.”
Ratio furrows his brows as the blond grins with his eyes still shut. His hair messies itself being pushed into the plush of the couch, and his head hangs a bit as he snickers to himself and lets his canines show over his soft, liquor-lined lips. The doctor swears he even sees the edible glitter of his inebriating concoction sparkle on the corner of his mouth.
“Why show up at all if this is where you'll be?”
“So I can say that I was here, doctor. That I did as I was told.” Aventurine sighs, cracking his eyes open to gaze up at the scholar as he twirls his colorful glass around. “You'll back me up on that, right?”
“I'm your witness now?”
“My alibi, even~ How lucky for you~”
“An alibi implies something illegal will occur where you are a suspect.”
“Doesn't always have to be illegal.” Aventurine shrugs with a grumble as he sits up straight and returns to drinking.
“Nevermind. I'd have no choice but to ride along anyway. That's how things go with you.”
“You make me sound like a liability!” The gambler cackles, looking up to freeze at the other's stoic face. “Ah…forget I said that.”
“As you wish.” Ratio rolls back sarcastically before staring ahead and indulging in his drink.
From here, Aventurine merely watches the other for a bit. They both nurse their liquor, and Ratio takes charge in shooing away any waitstaff whenever they approach in distant intervals from one another. Over twenty minutes pass before he lets one close enough to take his glass. He turns to check on the blond for his, but calmly takes in the sight of the smaller man leant back into the couch, his head tilted back and his eyes shut. He holds his empty glass firm against his leg, and Ratio takes initiative in prying it out of his hand before passing it over to the waitress that had stopped for them. He dismisses her with a quiet thanks, before turning to look at Aventurine again.
“I don’t recall you being such a lightweight…”
As if brought back from the dead, Aventurine snaps his eyes open. He stares at the ceiling for a moment before he’s quickly looking over at his associate. “Lightweight?” he softly chuckles.
Although the Avgin’s eyes are a notable distraction, the doctor can note the slight change in his pupils.
“You’re well on your way to inebriation.”
“No shit, I’m drinking vodka.” Aven laughs, uncharacteristically giggly.
“It cannot just be straight vodka.” Ratio deadpans, eyes narrowing on the man's slightly flushed complexion.
“Wh-fuck no…queer vodka.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pfft-” the blond covers his mouth, bowing his head down to hide it in the minimal space between them.
“...I see. Very humorous.” Ratio clicks his tongue.
“No, no, I wasn’t kidding though–” Aventurine continues laughing, even throwing a gasp in there as he waves a hand and lets it catch on the doctor’s shoulder to keep him from leaving. “Might as well be called that- all I could taste was vodka and grenadine, and maybe a shot glass worth of lemonade or some shit-”
“And edible glitter.”
Aventurine glances up, head still low at the other's chest, with his hand stationed on his shoulder. “There was glitter?” he scoffs.
“Unless there is another reason your lips have glitter on them.”
“Can’t think of any!” the stoneheart continues to laugh, falling against the man a bit in his fit of amusement.
The doctor is unfazed by the brief bumps from the other. He even raises an arm preemptively if he needs to make a catch. He recalls a time many moons ago when he witnessed the blond nearly fall off a balcony whilst intoxicated. Luckily enough, the collar of his shirt had snagged on something and held him back from the ledge like a mother cat holding her kitten by the scruff of its neck.
Suffice to say Ratio would not put it past the man to tumble off the couch.
Especially in this state of laughter. Ratio snaps back to realize it’s only now dying down.
“Haha…mh, why were you even looking at my lips anyway, doc~?”
“It is one of the most common places to look during conversation. After eye contact, lip reading is something we are drawn to observing to help us piece together words, even if we can hear as well.”
The aforementioned eye contact is made, but the only lip movement is that of Aventurine’s forming into a pout. “You’re no fun, doc.” he dramatically sighs, while crashing down against the other. Ratio assumes it's some sort of dramatic act of punishment, to lock him in or something, but the blond makes himself comfy with his head on his chest. His temple lays against Ratio’s clavicle, and he crosses his arms in front of his own chest, effectively pressing into the doctor’s side.
“Straighten up. Your neck will ache if you stay like that.” The scholar huffs. He isn't angry by any means, and he knows any attempt at authority is lost on the other. He simply hopes he speaks kindly enough to have his statement register as advice.
He gets through enough. Aventurine doesn't straighten up, but rather rolls his body to have his head comfortably on Ratio's shoulder instead.
The man clicks his tongue, but puts initial thoughts aside in favor of backtracking. “What would have been the fun answer, then?”
“...” the blond hums as he sinks further against the Mundanite. “...something stupid.” He scoffs.
“Example?”
After a flash of stillness, Aventurine jolts alight and begins chuckling again as he forces himself upright. He throws his head towards his company with his staple smirk plastered onto his glittery lips. His eyes fumble around Ratio’s face to make sense of it. Lastly, he lies.
“Can't think of any.”