Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ratio had planned to spend his Saturday night inside, writing lessons for his Monday lecture and watching the summer thunderstorm from the window. He got an early start, taking a bath right after dinner so that he could get comfortable and stow himself away for the night. The scene was set: a cup of tea was placed by his computer, not far from his favorite red pen. Warm air radiated from the fireplace that was quickly heating up the room. The radio was tuned to the classics channel, and the blinds were drawn open so that he could appreciate the storm as it rolled in. Dressed in his favorite pajamas and matching bathrobe, everything was in place for the perfect Saturday night, free from unnecessary disturbances. 

Or, it was, for a little while. As his fingers clacked across the keyboard of his laptop, the rain outside picked up tremendously. It sounded like it was coming down in sheets, beating against the house. He tried to tune it out, but realized a few minutes later that the noise was not solely from the rain: somebody was outside his door. 

Standing up from his desk, he shuffled in his slippers to the front door. When he opened it and saw the disheveled blond man on the other side, his breath hitched at the sight.  

‘Mess’ was too kind of a descriptor. Soaked through his shirt, Aventurine stood there, cheeks flushed, swaying on his shoeless feet. His clothes were pulled on haphazardly, and his tie was tied in a pathetic knot around his neck. A near-empty liquor bottle was choked in his left hand, and blood streaked down the lower half of his face, though it didn't look like the blond was concerned about it. Was he even aware of it? 

“Imbecile,” Ratio muttered, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked Aventurine up and down. 

“Doctor!” Aventurine threw his arms open, immediately tripping over the front step. He tried to stabilize himself by grabbing onto the edge of the open door, but it promptly swung out from under him. Ratio caught him before his head hit the side of the house. Looking up with a goofy smile, Aventurine asked, “Can I come in?”

“What are you doing here?” Ratio yanked the man back up into a standing position. “Were you just dying to cross ‘public intoxication’ off your list of committed crimes? Where are your shoes?”

“I drank a- I drank a little bit.” His words slurred into one another as he cocked his head with a grin. Unamused, Ratio sighed. 

“What happened to you? You’re bleeding.”

“Uhhhh,” Aventurine looked up into the night sky and stumbled again. “Your house…is on an incline or…something.” Ratio grabbed him by the arm. 

“Answer me.” His eyes flicked down to the near empty bottle in Aventurine’s other hand. “Do I dare inquire how much of this bottle was drunk by you?” Ratio asked, ripping the bottle from Aventurines weak grip. 

"Psh... I dunno," Aventurine paused, thinking. “Seven.” 

“Seven what?" 

"No, I had eight shots all to myself, that's right. The other ones were all sparkly and- what time is it anyways?" 

“Late.” Ratio reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out his phone to emphasize how late the night had gotten, but he paused when he saw the unread messages on his home screen. 

Clamorous Little Person

[7:07] Party tonight: Pulse Point club, 8pm. Everything's on me! Be there. 

[8:30] Paging Dr. Ratio! Come to my parttyyyy I know you're just cooped up alone watching jeopardy or something. I'll make it worth your while, promise! ;)

[9:21] :(

Topaz

[11:35] Could you check on Aventurine? He isn't answering me and it's getting annoying.

[11:49] I'm worried about him. I know that isn't your job, but I'm not sure who else to ask. I'd rather not bring Jade into this. Let me know if he ends up reaching out.

Ratio looked up at Aventurine with an annoyed glare as he shoved his phone back into the pocket of his robe. "I see you've been causing trouble for more people than just me tonight."

Whatever came out of Aventurine’s mouth after that made Ratio groan and pinch the bridge of his nose. “You’re slurring so badly, I can hardly understand what you’re saying.” 

“Do you always wear a big robe like this?” Aventurine asked, fiddling with the collar of Ratio’s robe. “Grandpa Ratio- you’re always acting like an old man.”

“And you’re always acting like an obnoxious fool. How did you even get here? Did you walk?”

Thunder cracked through the sky and Aventurine flinched in Ratio’s grip. He blinked at the doctor with glassy auroral eyes, resembling a sad, wet cat. Ratio sighed through his nose. “Never mind. Get inside.” 

He pulled Aventurine in and slammed the door behind them, shutting out the relentless rain. Water dripped from Aventurine’s coat onto the foyer floor. Ratio reached out to take it off of him, but the man was already wandering into his home, stumbling into the walls and talking to himself. 

Ratio’s living room was warm and packed with intricacies. Bookshelves lined every wall, surrounding a plush couch and a crackling fireplace, where the scent of cinnamon and cedar mingled in the air. Aventurine walked across the well-loved rug and smiled.

“Wow, doctor. I forgot…I forgot- how cute your house is,” Aventurine said, looking at one of Ratio’s framed doctoral degrees to the best of his inebriated ability. “It looks like such a home! So small and lived in, look at these little things!” 

“Do not insult my home after inviting yourself over,” Ratio said as he followed Aventurine inside. “And don’t track in water. You're getting everything wet.” 

“No no no, I’m complimenting you. I wish I had a house like this- woah, you have so many frames. My place doesn't really have photos or books or any of this stuff,” he said, flicking a ficus plant that was hanging from the wall. “I think you…I think you can hear an echo in my apartment. It feels like a movie set. I wish I had something…something like you.” 

“I’m glad it’s up to your standards, then. Shed your coat immediately.” 

Aventurine had his nose in one of Ratio’s many bookshelves, but he mindlessly shrugged his coat onto the floor as he peered into boxes of trinkets.

“You have Skipbo?” He stood on his tiptoes to look at the box of table games and grabbed a blue box of cards. Turning towards Ratio, he lost his balance and tumbled over. Luckily, the couch broke his fall, and he laughed to himself as he flicked open the package. “Oh, I'm gonna kick your ass doctor, get ready to learn from the master!”

“We are not playing Skipbo,” Ratio said, snatching the box of cards from his hands. “I did not invite you into my home to enable your drunken antics. Up, now. Come with me.” 

“So demanding,” Aventurine said, rolling off of the couch. He fell into the floor with a thunk and giggled, running his fingers through the shaggy carpet. Ratio exhaled loudly through his nose and grabbed Aventurine by the scruff of his shirt. 

“You’re going to get blood on my carpet. Get up.” 

“Blood?” 

“Yes, you’re bleeding.”

“Why?”

“How should I know?” Ratio held him steady as Aventurine stumbled back onto his feet. He just about dragged the man into the bathroom, grumbling under his breath the entire time. 

The bathroom counter had enough space for two, though Ratio lived alone. Aventurine slapped his hands onto the cold marble and swung himself onto it, nearly knocking over an array of bath soaps that were neatly lined up by the sink. Ratio studied his beat-up face for a moment before sighing and turning on the tap. 

“Aeons, Aventurine. What happened to you? Did you get into a fight?” Ratio asked as he fervently washed his hands. Aventurine hummed to himself, kicking his feet as he sat on the counter. He thought for a moment, looking up at the bathroom ceiling with a focused glare before saying, “Maybe? Don't think so. There were so many people there, I was really surprised everybody showed up, but the music they were playing really wasn't even good it was like-,” 

“Never mind, stop talking." Ratio began rifling through the medicine cabinet and pulled out a little blue pouch. Inside, there were pre wrapped wipes and bandages, along with a few individually wrapped pills. He plucked out one of the alcohol pads and tore the paper open. “I need to clean the blood off of you so that I can see what the damage is. This is an alcohol pad. I’m going to clean off your mouth.” 

“Do whatever, I don’t care.” Aventurine smirked as the doctor gently took his chin in his hand and tipped his head up towards the bathroom light. “I like surprises, don’t have to tell me.”

“I do, actually. That’s a fundamental part of treating a patient.” 

“I’m your patient?”

“You’re testing my patience,” Ratio said under his breath, swiping the wipe across Aventurine’s lip. When the blood was mostly cleaned, Ratio could see that his lip was cut open. “Your lip is split, gambler. Try not to irritate it any more than you already have.”

“How do I do that?”

“You could start by being silent.” As he finished wiping the blood from Aventurine’s mouth, his eyes flicked up to the man’s bloody nose. It wasn't bleeding profusely; it was only a single line of blood, trailing down and stopping above his lip. Ratio swiped an alcohol pad against the skin and paused when he saw the white residue. “Was it snowing in Pier Point tonight?”

Aventurine snorted at the question. 

“Of course not, it’s July.” 

“I was being facetious,” Ratio said through clenched teeth. “You have cocaine stuck to your septum.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“Oh.” Aventurine sheepishly wiped his nose with the palm of his hand. 

“Ridiculous,” Ratio muttered, taking Aventurine’s face in his hand and forcefully turning it in every direction. “You have some mild bruising, but it’s nothing too serious. I’m sure someone as clamorous as you has plenty of makeup to cover up blemishes such as these.” 

“Clamorous…like, in a good way?” Aventurine could hardly even pronounce the word in his altered state. 

“If thinking that helps you sleep at night, by all means.”

Ratio took a towel from the bathroom counter and clapped a hand onto Aventurine’s wrist, leading him into his bedroom; a dimly lit, well kept room that was nearly empty, aside from the bed. Aventurine immediately flopped down onto it and rolled around on the white comforter. 

“You’re getting my bed wet, you idiot,” Ratio said, grabbing Aventurine’s arms and pulling him up into a sitting position. ”Can you take your clothes off, or do I have to do it?” 

“Oh, heavens…you’re gonna have your way with me, Doctor?” Aventurine bit his lip and narrowed his eyes in a teasing manner. “I knew you couldn't resist me.” 

“Do not start with your nonsense,” Ratio said. “Are you capable or not?”

“I sorta want you to,” Aventurine said, running his wet foot along Ratio’s thigh. “Come see what has Pier Point so hot and bothered. You’re gonna like it, I promise. Satisfaction guaranteed or your…” Aventurine trailed off, staring through Ratio. “Come over here.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” Ratio muttered as he shoved the blond’s foot away and grabbed his waistband, angrily flicking the button undone. 

“What? You’re the one taking my pants off,” Aventurine cooed, peering up at Ratio.

“Because you’re soaking wet. If your wish is to catch pneumonia, be my guest. If not, shut up and hold still.” As he grabbed the sides of the pants to yank them down, his hands ran across two thick seams. Ratio paused for a moment and peered over Aventurine’s legs, wondering why the man's pants were on inside-out. He bit the inside of his cheek and mentally wrote it off as a drunken mistake on Aventurine’s part, surely. Nothing more. Perhaps he took them off entirely to use the bathroom and simply put them back on wrong. That sounded like something a drunken fool would do. Though, as he pulled them down, he felt an odd sense of panic. Without thinking, he tossed the wet pants onto the floor and peeled the man's suit jacket off. He started undoing the mismatched buttons on Aventurine’s vest, then his dress shirt. The blond was humming to himself as Ratio pushed the fabric off of his shoulders and immediately took a sharp inhale. 

The sides of his neck were cut and bruised, the mosaic of purple and red only being interrupted by bite marks that trailed along the back of his neck, varying in hue and severity. It was particularly bad across his branding scar, making the burned skin even more prominent. Angry scratches covered the sides of his arms and the length of his back, all the way down to the band of his boxer briefs. Ratio’s fingers ghosted over the bruises longer than he would have liked for them to. Swallowing hard, he tried not to let his concern show through his expression. In a low voice, he asked, “What did you get up to before coming here?” 

“Can’t remember,” Aventurine mumbled with his eyes closed, kicking his feet. 

“Think.”

“Brains not working.” 

“Think anyways.” 

“What does it matter?” Aventurine let his head go limp and roll around his neck a few times. Ratio grabbed Aventurine by the cheeks and squeezed, saying in a low voice, “You are obliterated, so I'm not going to explain it to you right now. But, it matters.” 

Aventurine froze for a moment, looking up at Ratio with big, colorful eyes as he held his face. 

“Kiss me,” Aventurine said softly, his words muffled from his squished cheeks. A furious blush crossed Ratio’s cheeks as he turned away and dropped Aventurine’s face.

“I will not."

“What? Why?” Aventurine whined, kicking his feet against the bed in protest. “Don’t you like me?” 

“Gambler,” Ratio said with a sigh, grabbing the shirt he had laid out. The sooner he could cover the carnage displayed across Aventurine's body, the better. “Lift your arms up.” 

Aventurine looked back at him, his lips pursed into a pout. “Batting your eyelashes will not work,” Ratio said. “Arms up.” 

Arms in the air, Aventurine collapsed back against the comforter. Ratio swore under his breath as he leaned over him and stuck the man’s arms into the shirt. 

“You are such a nuisance, do you know that? Absolutely careless.”

“All I’m sayin is, one kiss wouldn't hurt,” Aventurine grumbled as he sat up, shaking out his torso and admiring the shirt Ratio put on him. “This is yours?” 

“This is the smallest pair of pajamas I own,” Ratio said as he pulled the matching pants up over Aventurine’s lower half. Standing up, Ratio grimaced as he noticed that the sleep-shirt did little to cover the blond’s neck. Aventurine didn’t seem to notice. 

“I’m in your clothes,” he cooed with a huge smile, flapping his arms, all too pleased that the sleeves were long on him.

“They’re a bit big, but you’ll live.” 

Before Aventurine could respond, Ratio threw the bathroom towel over his head. He ruffled it around, then yanked it off, and Aventurine giggled and shook his head like a wet dog. 

“Now, get in bed and stay there. I’ll check on you in the morning.” Ratio sighed and took the towel and clothes off the floor, popping them into the laundry bin by the bed. 

“Wait,” Aventurine said, jetting out his arm and grabbing onto Ratio’s shirt, “Don’t go out there yet, wanna ask you a question.”

“Ask, then.”

“Can we cuddle?”

The question made Ratio stop in his tracks. Cuddling was not an extracurricular Ratio was well versed in. He couldn't remember if he had ever participated in it, actually. Even during the far and few between flings he had with people over the years, they were exactly that: flings. A quick, mutual agreement to satisfy one another and then move on with their lives. It wasn't anything more than a positive transaction, where both parties left after finishing what they started. On the rare occasion, he might spend the night, but always on his designated side of the bed. Maybe if he was feeling particularly cheeky that next morning, he'd make his one night stand a fried egg or some coffee, but never did he offer to cuddle. Why would he? There were never any feelings that warranted doing such a thing. Sex, intimacy, romance...they were all very different things that he didn't like to mix. Ratio knew that much.

But thinking of Aventurine sat on his bed, in his clothes, asking to just be held for a little while...it was stirring up all three of those feelings. 

“I have work to do,” Ratio said, not turning around to avoid the risk of being caught by Aventurine's big, colorful eyes. 

“Please?” 

Something about the way that he asked the second time made Ratio’s heart hurt. Looking over his shoulder, he met Aventurine’s eyes, and the damn gambler started batting his eyelashes again. Ratio felt his heart well up in his throat. 

"You're heavily inebriated. It would be inappropriate for me to touch you like this."

"That doesn't stop anybody else." Aventurine looked shocked after those words left his lips, as if he wasn't the one that said them.  

"My point exactly." 

"Wait no- pretend I didn't say that. We can just lie next to each other. You won't even know that I'm here." 

"That's impossible for someone so peacock-adjacent." 

Even with the quippy responses, Ratio was still losing the battle. The face Aventurine was pulling wasn't one he saw often; it didn't look pre-crafted and rehearsed. It was raw, lonely, and dejected. A long, slow sigh left Ratio's nostrils. 

"If I...cuddle with you, do you promise to stop with your flirtatious advances?”

“I promise,” Aventurine said, nodding fervently. Ratio let Aventurine pull him to the bed, and he sat down with a huff. 

“Nothing sexual. I mean it."

"I know."

"Alright. Five minutes. Not a minute more.”

As he lay down, the thought dawned on the doctor that he wasn't quite sure...how to cuddle correctly. Was there a specific position he was supposed to know? The gears turned in Ratio's brain as Aventurine shimmied towards him and threw his arms around Ratio’s torso, shoving his cheek against the man’s chest. A small noise of contentment left his throat as Aventurine pushed his face up against Ratio, almost like he was trying to push him off the bed with his head. Squeezing hard, Aventurine was practically on top of him, wriggling around and hugging him like Ratio could disappear any second. Ratio looked down, surprised, holding his hands up in the air. 

“What are you doing?” Ratio asked. 

“Wanna be closer.” 

“You’re burrowing into me like a meerkat.” The corners of Ratio’s mouth rose in a small smile as Aventurine kept rubbing his head against him. Watching the way Aventurine’s face had lit up...it made his chest feel warm. Ratio let a laugh slip past his lips as he put his hands on Aventurine's back. It only encouraged the man more, and soon Aventurine had fully climbed on top of Ratio, lying across him face down like a plank of wood, scrunching his nose and peppering Ratio's chest with kisses. For the first time in a long time, Ratio wasn't thinking, he was just reacting. He laughed harder than he had in a while and pulled Aventurine into a hug, squeezing him as he said, “Stop. You’re going to irritate the cut on your lip, you fool.” 

“But you smell so nice,” Aventurine said, making a point to dramatically run his nose along Ratio's neck, “And it’s been…a really long time since someone’s hugged me like this.” He finally settled on Ratio's chest, and the two sat there for a moment. Their heartbeats both slowly settled into one another, though Aventurine’s always seemed to be a bit ahead.

Despite spending so many years dismissing the idea that cuddling had any real purpose, Ratio was mortified to discover that his stomach was twisted in a hundred butterfly knots. Just reaching out and touching Aventurine's skin sent a jolt of heat through his entire body and Ratio damned himself for agreeing to hold the man in the first place. It was a different kind of intimacy, entirely. Ratio could smell the remnants of Aventurine’s cologne mixed with the stale scent of rain, and he found himself leaning forward a touch to take a longer inhale. Immediately, he felt his cheeks grow warm at the realization that he just willingly leaned forward and smelled Aventurine's neck.

His neck. Ratio's heart sunk. Gently, he brought a hand up to brush away longer parts of Aventurine's hair, and the bruised skin of his neck peeked out. The warm feeling in his stomach was quickly replaced by a dull, nagging pain.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Ratio whispered as his fingers combed through damp, blond hair. He stared at the back of Aventurine's head, as if glancing hard enough would allow him to see inside and figure out what was going on in his mind. Aventurine didn't answer the question. Ratio took a long, deep breath and said again, “I just don’t understand it. It seems like you enjoy torturing yourself.” 

“Had a bad day,” was all Aventurine said in response.

“Then why would you want to have an even worse night?” 

"I don't know."

"You seriously worry me, Aventurine. You worry a lot of people. I desperately need you to see a shrink before you wind up dead."

No response.

"I thought you said you'd get better after what happened on Penacony," Ratio continued, feeling the sting of anger rise up in his throat. "Why does it seem like you're getting worse?" 

"I don't know." 

"You can't keep doing this. It's painful to watch." 

More silence. Ratio wondered if the man had fallen asleep, but he flinched when Aventurine took a sharp, shaky inhale. The spot where Aventurine’s face was buried quickly became damp. Before Ratio could register what was happening, Aventurine was taking shallow breaths, sputtering against Ratio's chest. Each sob wracked his body.

Ratio was almost afraid to move. The scene in front of him was completely foreign; was Aventurine seriously crying? Out of all the years he had known the man, Ratio couldn't recall a single time Aventurine had cried. Normally so preoccupied with keeping his public image pristine, the classy, suave IPC executive was now curled in on himself, grabbing Ratio's shirt, shaking. Carefully, quietly, Ratio ran a hand down his back.

“It’s alright,” he said softly. "I shouldn't have brought this up right now, I apologize." 

“I’m sorry,” Aventurine croaked out, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I really don’t know what I’m doing anymore."

"Sit up," Ratio said and he tried to move Aventurine's body, but the man was hanging onto his torso for dear life. 

"No no no please, I know it's been five minutes but just one more, please don't leave yet."

That sent a pang of guilt up Ratio's spine. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Aventurine. I'm asking you to sit up so you don't choke."

His grip seemed to loosen a tad after that. Ratio sat up on his knees and gently pushed Aventurine's head onto his shoulder. It was probably easier for Aventurine to breathe like this, but it was also easier for Ratio to feel how much Aventurine's body was shaking. 

"Come on, deep breaths." 

"I know I said I'd get better," Aventurine sobbed into Ratio's shoulder. "I want to but I can't, I don't think it's possible for me."

"Of course it's possible." 

“I think I'm just broken. Nothing is ever gonna fill this hole inside of me and I try but it doesn't work. Nothing makes me feel anything anymore and I’m tired.” Aventurine’s voice cracked as he slurred his words and wiped his eyes on Ratio's shoulder. "I’m tired of playing this stupid part, I don't even know who I'm playing it for anymore." Coughing and sputtering on his tears, he lifted his head up and looked at Ratio. His eyes were puffy and his face was wet as he inhaled sharply, saying, "I think my family would be so disappointed in me.”

“Calm down,” Ratio said, cupping his head and lowering it back onto his shoulder. “Breathe. You’re gonna be alright.” 

Aventurine cried as Ratio held him, neither one of them speaking for a while after that. Every so often Aventurine would start coughing on his tears and spit again, and Ratio would pat his back until he returned to the soaking wet splotch on Ratio's shoulder.

“Aventurine,” Ratio said after a while, running his hand up and down the man's spine. "Are you feeling better?"

“That’s not my name.” 

Ratio blinked, taken aback. Right. That was the Stoneheart’s name. Whoever held the stone held the name as well, until they couldn't hold it anymore. Ratio knew 'Aventurine', but the more he thought about it, he wondered how much he really knew about the person beneath the dull, green coating. 

“What is your name, then?” Ratio asked, gently rubbing Aventurine’s shoulder with his thumb. “Do you still remember it?” 

It took a while for him to whisper an answer, pushing his cheek against Ratio's shoulder, lips parted like he was afraid to actually say it. In a hushed voice, he finally said, "Kakavasha." Immediately, Aventurine lifted his head up and looked at Ratio's face for a reaction, blinking his big, wet eyes. "Do you hate it? Does it sound stupid?"

Kakavasha. Luck of Gaiathra. The person sat crying in front of Ratio. The person that Ratio...cared about, very deeply. Very deeply. 

A warm hand cupped Aventurine's cheek and Ratio pulled him forward, looking him in the eyes to say, “I think it's lovely. It really suits you, Kakavasha." 

Chapter Text

Earlier that night, Aventurine sat in a dimly lit dining room, propped up like a doll at a table with a handful of IPC executives. Most of them were laughing over gourmet dishes as the faint sound of a jazz trio filled the air. Aventurine was slouched in a chair next to Topaz, both dressed to impress, with a bottle of white wine sat half-empty between them. 

“Eat something,” Topaz muttered, pointing her fork at Aventurine’s plate. “You’re gonna wind up drunk.”

“What a terrible turn of events that would be,” Aventurine spoke into the glass, throwing back the last of the wine. 

“If you make an ass out of yourself, don’t come crying to me.” She eyed the blond as he set his wine glass back down with enough force to make the candle flame flinch in the center of the table. “Why are you in such a mood today?” She asked. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Aventurine grabbed the neck of the wine bottle and gave it a heavy pour. Waves of chardonnay splashed into his glass.

But, Topaz was right; he was in a mood. The worst part? Nothing had happened. Not really. He woke up that day feeling empty. It wasn't unusual for him, but that didn't make it any less irritating. A gnawing, hollow feeling was perpetually stuck in his chest, constantly demanding to be felt. 

Regardless, everything had been annoying him all day, and the mandatory sit-and-look-happy-dinner-party was not helping. 

When the check finally came and everybody rose from the table, Aventurine pulled out his phone and immediately got to work. 

“I want to throw a party,” he said to Topaz, and his thumbs started dashing across the touch screen. 

“Tonight? Why?” 

“Because I can.” 

“That’s a great reason,” Topaz said with a narrow glance. She put a hand on his phone and pushed it down a bit, asking, “Why don’t you come over to my place instead? We can dress Numby up in little outfits. You love it when we do that.”

“Too late, already made up my mind.” 

“Aventurine, seriously. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, why do you keep asking that?” 

“Because you only ever throw day-of impulsive parties when something is wrong.” 

“What? That’s not true.” 

“Yes, it is. Remember last month? The day after your trial, right before Jade sent you to rehab? You rented out the entire Shopping Street and went on a bender for three days. I ended up finding you passed out in the fountain.”

A sheepish grin enveloped his face. “Alright, I admit, that one was kind of a lot. But it’s Saturday night! Everybody has fun on Saturday nights.”

“I just want you to be honest with me,” Topaz said. “If something’s bothering you,-”

“Nothing is wrong. I’m just feeling a little suffocated from this stupid dinner, that's all.”

“If that’s the story you’re going with.” 

“You coming or what?”

“Not tonight.”

“Boo.” 

“Will you promise to call me if you need me?” 

“Sure thing.”

“Look at me.”

Aventurine looked up from his phone with a raised eyebrow. Topaz stood tall, crossing her arms. “Seriously. I’ll come get you if you need help.”

“Message received.” He stuffed a hand into his pocket while the other resumed swiping on his phone. “If you can do all that, though, I don't see why you can’t come to the party in the first place.” 

“Aventurine.” 

“Okay, alright.” 

Topaz sighed and bit down on her bottom lip, wavering a bit before she finally turned on her heel and left the dining room. Bringing his phone up to his ear, Aventurine watched her leave. 

….

Renting out a nightclub was a common occurrence for the Stoneheart. It didn’t take long for the space to fill up, and in a few hours, Pier Point nightclub buzzed with an electric energy. A kaleidoscope of strobe lights flickered over a crowd filled with nearly every contact in Aventurine’s phone. The air was heavy with the scent of expensive cologne mixed with cigarette smoke. In one corner, the bar glowed with neon hues. Aventurine leaned against the counter, sipping a sparkling cocktail, his eyes scanning the crowd. He perked up when he saw a familiar group walk towards him. 

“Hey, there’s my favorite astral-train-gang!” He set his drink down and held his arms out wide. “You guys actually had the time to stop by?”

“Are you kidding?” March grabbed Dan Heng and Caelus by the arms and pulled them close, exclaiming, “I love parties!”

“What about you two?” Aventurine asked with a snicker. Dan Heng rolled his eyes.

“We had nothing better to do.” 

Caelus elbowed him in the side and quickly added, “But we’re happy to be invited, honestly.” 

“They’ll come around,” March said, throwing her arms over their shoulders. 

“Well then, you three have to have your first drink with me!” Aventurine popped a bottle and poured it across a row of champagne flutes. Lifting his glass high, he was laughing to himself. “Cheers!” he shouted, and the others echoed him, raising their glasses in unison. 

The night started off in a delightful haze. Aventurine alternated between the sting of expensive liquor and the musky smell of a hundred dollar bill (and the chemical burn that followed quickly after). He didn't want to stop and think. There was no need to.

Aventurine sauntered over towards the back of the room, where a circular gaming table glimmered under the vibrant lights. A group of players leaned in, eyes focused as they stacked and tossed colorful chips. The dealer shuffled the cards with practiced ease, her movements fluid and confident. Everyone leaned forward, fingers twitching, some bouncing nervously on the balls of their feet. Aventurine walked up in his tailored suit, his tie slightly askew, and tossed a stack of chips into the center, grinning as he met the gazes of those around him. Caelus was standing in the crowd and looked him up and down. 

“Feeling lucky tonight?” Caelus teased. He swirled his drink- a neon pink concoction that matched the lights.

“Always,” Aventurine replied, winking as he shot him a glance. Chips cascaded over one another as Aventurine shoved them all into the center. “High risk, high rewards.”

The roulette wheel whirled and sent the ball spinning. To nobody’s surprise, it landed right in the pocket that Aventurine bet on. He threw his arms up and cheered while the crowd jumped around him, hollering at the massive win.

He was ecstatic. Tonight, he was the person everybody wanted to be. Just for tonight, he wasn't the massive loser that he thought he was. Losers don't take risks. Losers don’t win. 

What was so bad about this? Aventurine thought. Topaz worries too much. This was the kind of stuff Aventurine liked. It had to be. What could be better than this? The lifestyle of the rich and powerful. Anybody would kill to be in his shoes- the designer loafers with the spade detailing on the tongue. His younger self would have envied somebody so daring and successful.

Not that it mattered either way, though. His only option was to keep going and play the part he was cast as.

Besides, it was starting to feel more doable than it used to. Maybe this was where he belonged. What else could somebody like him do, anyway? A Sigonian slave that would have been sentenced to die, had Jade not sentenced him to a life of…luxury, instead. He might be in chains, but he was going to be in them either way. At least these ones were gold. 

Another round. Up and moving and dancing and drinking and cheering. 

As Aventurine tilted his cocktail glass back, a little too eager, the drink sloshed over the rim and spilled down his shirt. “Ah, shoot!” He laughed, wiping at the sticky liquid with the back of his hand, his movements exaggerated and clumsy. The warmth of the alcohol coursed through him, loosening any inhibitions he had left. He parted from the crowd of people and pushed his way through. Feeling invincible with each step, he walked with too much force and stumbled over his feet. He caught himself on a nearby table, sending a couple of drinks wobbling dangerously. “Whoa, sorry!” He shouted, grinning sheepishly at the startled patrons. “Just testing the waters!” He raised his glass in a toast before trying to regain his balance; it was an unsuccessful attempt. With a crash that was drowned out by the music, he landed in a heap on the floor, his legs tangled and his drink splattered across the tiles. It was Caelus who came running toward him and scrambled to his knees. “Here, let’s stand up,” he said, grabbing the Stoneheart by the shoulders. “Are you okay?” 

“Never been better, my friend.” Aventurine cupped Caelus’ face and kissed him on both cheeks. “Watch this, I’m gonna tear it up!” He stumbled over to the center of the dance floor and let the music move him. Each beat was met with sharp and exhilarating movements. The crowd parted slightly as he slid across the floor, gliding seamlessly into a series of spins that left the crowd cheering. He felt the adrenaline coursing through him, and when the music finally faded, he dropped into a low, dramatic pose, his heart racing, breathless.

Applause erupted, and as he stood in the middle of it all, panting from the heat, looking at the people around him, he realized that the empty feeling in his chest was still there. 

.

It was still there.

Why the fuck was it still there? 

Another round, then. He’d do it all again. Another shot, another bump, another big win, another anything until something stuck. Something had to stick. 

Though, the more he exhausted the routine, the more he exhausted himself. One of the plush couches broke his fall when he inevitably collapsed, kicking his shoes off, not concerned with where they landed. Everything was spinning. Closing his eyes didn't help; even behind his eyelids, dark swirls and colors were morphing into one another. 

“Hey, blondie. You alright?”

Aventurine looked up at the ceiling. A man’s head came into view. He turned his head to get a better look, and he thought he might be sick from the sudden movement. 

“Look at those eyes,” the man said, grabbing Aventurine’s glasses by the brim and tossing them onto the couch. “You an Avgin?”

“Why?” Aventurine asked, trying desperately to focus his stare on the man’s face. 

“I’ve never seen one in real life,” he said. He swung Aventurine’s legs up off the couch and took a seat beside him. “Is it true, then? I hear you guys have some special talents.”

“I’m the best at everything,” Aventurine slurred, sitting upright and pointing a limp finger at the man, “Lay it on me, what do you want to see? I can do coin tricks, card tricks, I can pull a fuckin’ poker chip out of your ear, wait I might have one in my-”

“I hear that Avgins make the best whores.” 

Aventurine stopped looking for the poker chip. 

“We aren't…” He trailed off for a moment, blinking with intention as he stared back at the man, “...We aren't, no. Not whores. Why would you say that?” 

“Because, you look like you’d make a good one.” The stranger pulled himself closer and ran his hands up and down Aventurine’s body. They were warm through the fabric of his suit. “Clearly somebody else agrees with me. Or, is this just a cute tattoo you decided to get?” He sneered, leaning into Aventurine’s neck and nipping him right at the edge of his scar. 

This time, he really was going to be sick. 

“Don’t- get away from me.” 

"Avgin is the word for honey, isn't it? Show me how sweet you are, then." 

Aventurine tried to stand up, but his legs didn't get the memo, and he went crashing down, knocking his mouth on the edge of the side table. It was drowned out by the bass.

“It’s…I’m not, I don’t-hang on-”

Everything was dulled into a blurry buzz that enveloped the space between his ears. Nothing was making sense. He couldn't feel it when the man grabbed him by the wrist. Following suit, his legs moved on their own as he stumbled behind him and suddenly it was a lot colder and a bit quieter and he was surrounded by mirrors and stall doors. The man pulled him into a stall and slammed the door behind them. “Wait,-” he shouted, startled, but the sound was muffled by a thick pair of lips that covered his, and a tongue that pushed into his mouth before he could close it. There was a hand on his ass. Another muffled shout, another failed shove, and his belt was off and on the tile. His pants were already around his ankles. The buttons of his silk shirt slipped open and he felt a coarse palm slide over his bare skin. In an instant, he was face-first on the bathroom floor, the other man's spit mixing with the fresh taste of blood in his mouth. 

What's happening? He thought.  

Two hands turned him over and scratched the tender skin underneath, nails dragging down his chest, wringing pained whines from his gagged lips as he lay on his back, his mouth now numb and bruised by the blow he took outside, though that didn't seem to bother the stranger one bit. The man’s hands kept clawing down his body, and Aventurine felt like he was being cut open like a corpse on an autopsy table. 

The strong scent of cigarettes and rough leather were giving him a headache. Or…was it all the coke? He couldn't remember. The hands on his hips tightened their grip, breaking the skin as sharp pain made its way through his dazed mind. Lips wet with spit and blood stuck to his tongue, suffocating him, the sensation worsening as the man moved a hand around his throat, digging his fingers in the delicate flesh. Aventurine considered begging him to at least flip him over so he didn’t have to look at his face. Instead, he took a few deep breaths and tried to reason with himself.

Pretend that you like it, he thought. That should be easy for you. He had been pretending his whole life. Pretending for his old master, pretending for his new one, pretending for clients, for the IPC, for himself. His body was just another prop in the show, so it should be easy to dissociate. Being a slave was the only consistent part of his identity. He should be used to this by now.

Fuck. Why wasn't he used to this?

He parted his lips and tried to kiss the man back, but his head wouldn't move forward on its own.

How many times had he been through this? It shouldn't upset him anymore. But every time, it felt like he was losing another piece of himself, a piece he never even got to know. 

“Hurts, it hurts,” he choked out before his face was crunched against the bathroom floor. The sound of flesh on flesh made Aventurine gag, and he clawed at the tiles, making strangled noises into the floor. Everything hurt; his body throbbed and weighed heavy, but the man kept him trapped between the floor and his warm, fleshy body. Aventurine felt so small. 

“If you stop wriggling around, it'll hurt less,” the man hummed, catching Aventurine’s mouth in a rough kiss and fucking him harder. 

Aventurine wondered if perhaps it would feel better if he just stopped resisting. Somewhere, deep down, he knew that it wouldn't make a difference, but he tried anyway. He let himself go limp, and before he knew it, the man slid in for the final time and bit down on the blond’s neck. Warmth spreads throughout Aventurine’s body, like he was being injected with hot, sticky poison. 

Everything slowed down after that. With every blink of his auroral eyes, Aventurine felt like he had missed something. The man was intertwined with him, sucking on his neck, then he was standing up, peeling Aventurine off of him, and then he was gone. 

The floors and walls were pounding from the music. On his hands and knees on the bathroom floor, Aventurine looked around him, seeing the remains of his scattered clothes and a crude mixture of different liquids. A sudden jolt of nausea rushed up his throat and he clapped a hand over his mouth.  

The liquor didn't taste half as good as it did going down. Hugging the rim of the toilet, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and blinked back the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes. 

Well...what now?

He wanted to cry. 

Where the hell was his bag? Where was his phone?

He pulled his pants and shirt back on and struggled to fasten his vest, missing a few buttons in the process. Grabbing his suit jacket off the floor, he stumbled out of the bathroom and back to the party, and the atmosphere was the same as he had left it. 

A couple had taken over the couch he was sitting on before, attached to each other's lips, not paying any mind to Aventurine’s designer purse that was stuffed in between two pillows. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with everything else going on, he would have been shocked nobody robbed him. He grabbed it and started riffling through the bits and bobbles he kept in there until he found his phone. A message from Topaz lit up the screen.

Topaz

[11:00] I haven't heard from you, so I’m assuming you’re okay. Let me know how it went tomorrow morning, if the hangover isn't too brutal.

[11:13] Look, Numby says hello! (see attached image)

Should I call her? Aventurine thought. She told me to, but…

He shook his head. 

No. Call her and tell her what? That I did everything I said I wouldn't do tonight? Yeah, right.

He dropped the phone back into his bag and kept sifting through it, though he wasn't sure what he was looking for. When his hand brushed against a plastic tube, his breath hitched. Choked in his hand was the empty container that once held the note Ratio gave him. The note that he read when he was trapped in Nihility. The note that kept him tethered to reality. Aventurine had kept the empty tube, though they had left Penacony nearly two months ago. Thinking of Ratio, Aventurine's lower lip began to wobble. 

Chapter Text

When Aventurine opened his eyes, the pain coursing through his body was the second most concerning thing that he noticed; the first was that he had no idea whose bed he was in. Looking down, his body was enveloped in violet sheets. 

Wait, whose clothes are these? 

Aventurine scoffed; he would never wear polyester. 

This wasn't the first time he had woken up in a foreign bed, but whenever it was paired with the stale taste of liquor on his tongue, it was cause for at least a little worry. He groaned and threw the blanket off of him, immediately paralyzed by a wave of nausea. Clapping a hand over his mouth, he noticed that whoever he had slept with last night had drawn the curtains closed for him, so the sunlight wasn't making his headache any worse.

That was thoughtful, at least. 

Getting to his feet, he wobbled a bit, hanging onto the wall for support. He silently wondered if he was still drunk as he stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway, taking apprehensive steps into the house until he saw a familiar man sitting at a neatly set dining room table. 

“What the hell?” Aventurine muttered under his breath. “Ratio?” 

“Ah, look who decided to join me.” Ratio was sitting at the table, newspaper in hand, legs crossed, with the most annoyed expression Aventurine had ever seen. In a sweetly sardonic tone, he said, “Good morning, gambler. I’m happy to see that you actually woke up.”

“Same,” Aventurine said with an apprehensive smile. “Might I ask, though…why am I here, exactly?” 

“Well,” Ratio said, folding up his newspaper so he could slap it against the side of the table. The sound ricocheted through the dining room and Aventurine flinched. “It appears that last night you were in distress, and instead of behaving like a functional adult man, you raked around Pier Point guzzling as much liquor as your body would hold.”

“That sounds like me,” Aventurine said. Ratio glared at him and continued, saying, “You show up in the middle of the night, banging on my front door, looking and acting like a crazed fool.” 

“How did I even get here?”

“I’m assuming you walked, considering how drenched you were.”

“Walked…from where?” 

“Through what I pieced together from your drunken babbling,” Ratio growled, “You rented out Pulse Point nightclub, caused a massive scene as per usual, got in some sort of...altercation, and then wandered over to my house alone.” 

“Oh, jeez.” Cradling his face in his hands, Aventurine groaned at the heat that was quickly enveloping his cheeks. “Sorry about that, doc. I guess Saturday nights are for making bad decisions, right?” He tried to cover his sheepish grin with a laugh. “I can repent for them today, surely. That’s what Sundays are for.” 

“Sit down.” The dining room chair scraped across the wooden floor as Ratio yanked it away from the table. With a sigh, Aventurine took a few defeated steps forward and plopped down on the chair cushion.

“Look, you can chew me out,” he said, resting his head on the dining room table, “But could you not yell? My head hurts so bad.”

“Such a mysterious symptom,” Ratio said as he walked into the kitchen. “I wonder what the cause of your pain could be? It must be a medical mystery.” 

“You’re the doctor, you tell me. What’s my diagnosis?” Aventurine tapped the table with his hands and made a comical drumming sound, raising his eyebrows in suspense. Ratio glared back at him.

“Idiocy.” 

“Bingo!” Aventurine tossed his hands up and made a heart with his fingers. “Tell me there’s a cure, won’t you?” 

“Do I look like I’m laughing?”

“No,” Aventurine muttered, setting his head back into his palm.  

“Astute observation.” The kitchen cabinets rattled as Ratio grabbed a little white bottle and dropped the cabinet door with little grace. Turning back towards Aventurine, he asked, “Answer me honestly. Do you have any regard for your personal safety? For your bodily autonomy? For the health of your organs, even?”

“What do you think?”

Ratio strutted back to the table and picked up his newspaper, whacking Aventurine with it as if he were an offensive fly.

“Zero points.”

Aventurine groaned and put his head back on the table. When he heard the clink of a plate, he opened his eyes to see Ratio setting down a piece of plain toast in front of him. 

“Eat.” 

“Don’t wanna,” Aventurine mumbled, glaring at the toast from his slumped position. 

“You cannot take ibuprofen on an empty stomach.”

Aventurine made a high pitched noise and rolled his head around on the table. “Do not whine like a child. You consumed enough poison last night to kill a horse; a piece of bread will not harm you.” 

When the blond didn't move from his slumped position on the table, Ratio picked up the toast and pushed it into his lips. 

“Open.”

“You can't be serious,” Aventurine said, voice muffled by the bread.

“Clearly you’re incapable of basic life skills. You proved that to me last night.” Aventurine snatched the toast out of Ratio’s hand with a pout. 

“You’re being a dick,” he said, tearing a piece off with his teeth. 

“Oh, you have a lot of nerve.” 

“Why are you so mad? I’m sorry I bugged you last night, alright? I can compensate you for your time.”

“I do not want your money. I’m mad because I’ve never seen you so inebriated in my life. What in Aeons happened?”

“Just having a little fun,” Aventurine mumbled as he stuffed the toast between his lips, “Sorry you never heard of it.”

“Fun? Do you have any idea what you look like right now?” 

Aventurine shrugged. Ratio bit the inside of his cheek as he turned on his heel and disappeared into the living room. When he came back, he was holding a small hand mirror and a crocheted blanket.

“Take a look at yourself,” he said, handing the mirror to Aventurine as he draped the blanket over the blond’s shoulders. 

“What’s this for?” Aventurine asked, grabbing the ends of the blanket. 

“You’re shaking, moron.” 

“I just got nervous when you left, that's all. How am I supposed to eat this toast if you're not here to feed me?” Ratio snatched the newspaper from the table and whacked him again. Aventurine chuckled and lifted the mirror, his face suddenly dropping as he gasped at his reflection. “Oh gods,” he said as he stared back at his shocked expression. He marveled at the muddled bruises on his neck, and the cut in the center of his lip. A particularly angry hickey sat under his collar bone, and he scrunched his nose at the sight of it. Looking up at Ratio, he asked, “Did we…?”

Ratio scoffed. 

“I’m offended you think I'd be so rough with you.” 

“Are you saying you’d be gentle with me, then?” Aventurine smirked and leaned forward, as Ratio snatched the mirror out of his hands. 

“Gambler, I’m not playing your games this morning. Are you not at all disturbed by your appearance?”

“These will go away in a week or so, not a big deal.”

“I’m not concerned about when they’ll go away, I’m concerned about where they came from.” 

“Probably just being friendly with some guys at the poker table. If they pay more attention to your body, they’re paying less attention to your poker face, you know?" He flashed Ratio a practiced smile. "A little kiss never hurt anyone. Nothing serious, nothing to worry about.”

“It was not just a little kiss," Ratio sneered as he air-quoted the term. "You didn't see the rest of your body.”

A puzzled look crossed Aventurine's face and he sat up a bit straighter. He glared up at Ratio, asking, “And you did?” Ratio's face flushed red as Aventurine narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said we didn't have sex last night."

"We didn't!"

"You just couldn't resist taking a look, then?"

The doctor pursed his lips, fumbling over his words a bit as he said, “I did not intend for my comment to sound implicative. Last night, I had asked you to dress yourself, but you were acting obtuse. I simply changed your clothes for you, nothing more. It would be an insult to medicine if I did anything suggestive to a patient, let alone my reputation as a man.” He finally bit his tongue to stop the rambling. Aventurine sighed as he shoved the rest of the toast into his mouth.

“Well, no need to get into the details. I can guess what the damage looks like. I was wondering why everything hurt so freakin’ bad.” 

“Are you in pain?” 

“Yeah, no big. Can I take the ibuprofen now, or are you gonna come up with more arbitrary rules, doc?” 

“You’re concernedly calm about all of this.”

“You’re annoyingly worked up about it.” 

“Do you have any idea what these kinds of markings suggest?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Aventurine looked up at him with a bored expression, blinking slowly. 

“Is this a common occurrence for you?” 

“Wasn't the first time, won't be the last.” 

“That’s a terrible mindset to have.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Whatever,” Ratio mocked, shrugging his shoulders as he scowled. “Right, my mistake. Who cares that some stranger assaulted you? No big deal. Right?” 

“Drop it already,” Aventurine said through clenched teeth. 

“I will not! What was so wrong last night that you had to inebriate yourself to the point of not being able to defend yourself?” 

“Are you seriously blaming me for some guy having his way with me?”

“Of course not, do not put words into my mouth.”

“Certainly sounds like that’s what you’re saying.” 

“I’m just trying to inquire why you deliberately put yourself into dangerous situations.”

“Sounds like you just want to make me out to be the bad guy. Who's to say it’s deliberate?” 

“Really? You have the gall to say that after what happened on Penacony? You’re right, I’m sure you had the best intentions for yourself. The Aventurine I know would never do something to hurt himself.”

“Don’t bring up Penacony.”

“I will bring it up, because you said you were going to get better.” 

“I said I would try to get better, okay? Sorry that I can’t change overnight!” Aventurine shot up from the dining room table and threw the blanket off his shoulders. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“I want you to act like you care about yourself even the slightest bit,” Ratio snapped back. “It’s getting extremely old, gambler.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry," Aventurine drawled, clapping his hands together as he dramatically scrunched his face back at Ratio. "Didn’t mean to inconvenience you with my issues, doc.” 

“Well, you should have thought about that before you showed up at my house last night.” 

“If you don’t want me here, you can just say that.” In a second, Aventurine was storming out of the dining room.

“No, that isn't what I-you aren't listening to me.”

“I hear you loud and clear. Sorry that I’m such an imposition.”

“Are you deliberately misunderstanding what I’m saying?” 

“I would have preferred you just outright told me that you don't like having me around," Aventurine said, not looking over his shoulder toward the doctor. "Would have saved us both a lot of time.”

Ratio cried out in frustration and grabbed Aventurine by the arm, yanking him back. 

“Stop running away and listen to me, you imbecile!” 

“Don’t-!” Aventurine shouted as he broke free of the doctor’s grip. “Don’t grab me like that!” 

Ratio's mouth gaped in surprise, his hand frozen in the air as he let go of Aventurine. The two stood in the living room, both wide-eyed and panting from the adrenaline. Ratio bit his bottom lip and flicked his gaze to the floor.

“I apologize,” Ratio said finally, swallowing hard. “That was…overly aggressive. I'm sorry.”

“S’fine,” Aventurine mumbled, holding onto his arm where the doctor had grabbed him. Ratio cleared his throat and adjusted his posture. 

“Will you please let me try and explain what I’m feeling?”

Aventurine rolled his eyes and looked down at his feet. “Go on, then.”

“I believe that I’m…frustrated.” 

“Why are you frustrated?”

Ratio paused to think for a moment, then said, “Your complete lack of care for yourself makes me angry. Why do you constantly put yourself in terrible situations?” 

Aventurine's eyebrows snapped together as he stared back at Ratio. With a heavy sigh, he finally answered, “I don’t know.” 

“Do you really not know?”

“You know what? Here’s a question for you.” Aventurine took an aggressive step forward and sneered, “Why do you care so much? What I do with my life has nothing to do with you.”

“But it does,” Ratio said. “Because it hurts me to see you in pain.” 

“It’s really not that bad. I’ll just take the ibuprofen and-,”

“No, I mean mentally. You’re clearly not well, and the more you hurt yourself, the more frustrated I am with you.”

“But why?”

“Because I care about you!” Ratio cried. “It upsets me to see you in distress. Why do I try and help you when I know you’re going to turn around and do something even more reckless tomorrow?”

“Oh, shut up,” Aventurine hissed, scrunching up his face, “You’re such a great guy, aren't you?”

“What?”

“What am I, your little project? Do you just keep me around to feel better about yourself? 

“Is that what you honestly think?”

“Don’t try and trick me, that’s what you think.” 

“Aventurine, I want to help you because I don’t like seeing you destroy yourself."

“Please," Aventurine scoffed. "This is so dramatic."

"I'm dramatic? You're the one who completely self destructs at the most minor inconvenience!"

"Minor? You have no idea what I'm going through, or how I feel about it." 

“And what about how I feel? Do you have any idea how...helpless I feel? Do you know how many nights I lose sleep because I sent you a message and you never responded? I lay awake wondering if you finally pushed your luck too far, Aventurine! I’m tired of it!” 

Aventurine's face tensed and he bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. 

“Poor you," he muttered. "How ever will you manage?” 

“Are you even listening?”

“Listening to you make this about yourself? Oh, I'm listening, doc. You're doing a great job.” 

“You came to my house!”

"It won't happen again."

“Yes, it will. You do this constantly. You pull me into your melodrama and then run away the second I try to help you."  

“Stop trying to help me, then.” 

“I don't want to stop helping you, I want you to stop hurting yourself. You need to do better.” 

"That's all any of you can say- get better, do better, work harder- don't you think I know that?! If it were that freakin' easy, I would have done it by now! There's something wrong with my brain and I don't know how to fix it, okay?! Someone like you will never understand what it's like to feel the way that I feel, so stop pretending like you give a shit, because I don't believe you!"

“Leave, then!” Ratio shouted, pointing toward the front door. Aventurine blinked back at him, his expression softening just the slightest bit. 

“What?”

“I told you, I’m not playing your games.” Ratio crossed his arms and scowled at the floor. Looking at Aventurine's colorful eyes was making his stomach turn. “If you think I hate you so much, leave.” 

Aventurine took a few labored breaths through his nose before spitting out a venomous, “Fine.” He stormed through the living room towards the front door, only looking back over his shoulder to say, “Your house is ugly, by the way.” 

“Is it?” 

“Yeah. What even is this?” Aventurine flicked at one of the frames hanging on the wall. “Cheap. You should have let me compensate you for your time. You clearly need the money.” He scanned the floor by the door and hissed under his breath, "Where the hell are my shoes?' 

"You showed up without them. Good thing you have so much money, gambler. I'm sure you go through a lot of shoes if this is your normal daily behavior." 

"You know what?!" Aventurine cried, pointing a stiff finger at Ratio. "Stay away from me."

"Gladly."

The front door opened and then slammed shut in a matter of seconds, and Ratio stood in the foyer, painfully aware of the stinging feeling in his chest. 

Chapter Text

The night of the IPC gala was much anticipated by everybody in Pier Point, aside from Ratio, who had been dreading it all week. Mandatory parties were infinitely worse than optional ones, because mandatory meant he’d have to sit in public long enough for the higher-ups to see him and recognize that he actually showed up. He didn’t particularly like being around his coworkers outside of the office, aside from one, who Ratio hoped he wouldn’t run into. There was an approximate 0% chance of Aventurine missing a gala with an open bar, though, so Ratio knew he’d have to see him sooner or later. 

As the moon crested the sky, the party was in full swing. Beneath the dazzling chandeliers of a hotel lobby, IPC members and affiliates were chatting and drinking with one another. The hotel staff weaved in between the tables and the guests, delivering drinks and toothpick skewers.

Ratio sat at an empty table by the bar, looking down at an open book he had laid out before him, though he wasn't doing much reading. Instead, he was staring at the dimly lit lounge towards the back of the room, where a velvet rope separated the high rollers from the rest of the party. The table was alive with players, their eyes gleaming as they watched the dealer’s hand spin the roulette wheel. At the center of the table sat Aventurine in a tailored green suit, cocktail in hand. Even when he wore formal attire, he somehow managed to make it as gaudy as possible; fur, jewels, embellishments, his favorite stupid sunglasses...Ratio felt his face warming up the longer he stared. Aventurine was sitting with a man on either side of him, each with their arm snaked around his waist or tossed loosely around his neck. As the roulette wheel whirled, Aventurine leaned in to whisper something into one of their ears. 

Ratio scoffed under his breath and fiddled with the corner of the page in his novel. His attention wavered only when he heard someone sit down beside him.

“Hey, stranger.”

Ratio glanced up to find Topaz smirking at him. Her dress was the color of the dark wine in her glass, and her hair was meticulously tucked behind her ears. She followed his gaze to the roulette table. “Did you say hi to him yet?” 

“Who? The tacky little man over there?” Ratio asked, clapping his book shut. “No, I did not. I have no intention to.” 

“Are you two fighting or something?”

“Hardly.”

“He told me you guys were fighting.”

“He did?” Ratio leaned in towards her as she took a seat beside him. “What else did he say?”

“Why don’t you go ask him yourself?” 

“I’ll be doing no such thing.” 

“So you’re just planning on stalking him all night?”

“Stalk is a massive exaggeration,” Ratio said with a huff. “I’m required to be at this party just as he is. We’re co-existing.”

“You’re going to burn a hole in the back of his head with how hard you're staring.”

“Well, can you blame me?” Ratio snapped, pointing at Aventurine from across the room. “Look at him. It’s like a peacock sitting in an armchair. His presence is impossible to ignore.” 

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t kill you to clear the air.”

Topaz swirled the wine in her glass, watching Ratio over the rim. When he didn’t respond, she exhaled sharply and leaned back, crossing her legs. The crimson fabric of her dress shimmered under the low bar lights. “Look, I know better than anyone how insufferable Aventurine can be. He’s arrogant, stubborn, and always makes a scene no matter where he goes. But for whatever reason, he likes you. A lot. And…” She hesitated, rolling the stem of her glass between her fingers. “He’s not doing well.”

Ratio scoffed, barely sparing her a glance. “And why, exactly, is that my concern?” He tilted his chin up, lips curling in disdain. “I couldn’t care less what he does, how he does it, or whom he does it with.”

“Ratio.” Topaz leveled him with a look. “Be serious.”

Their eyes locked for a beat too long. He exhaled and slumped over, resting his chin against his hand. The ice in his cocktail glass clinked as he flicked at the straw absently. “He doesn’t want help,” he muttered. “I swear, he enjoys being miserable. He revels in it.”

“I don’t know if that’s true.” Topaz took a slow sip of wine. “I think he’s just afraid of disappointing the people he cares about.”

Ratio let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “If that’s the case, he has a funny way of showing it.”

“You’re not wrong.”

A woman in an ebony hat waved in Topaz's direction. She offered a brief smile in return before pushing back from the table. “I’ll leave you alone,” she said, resting a hand lightly on the back of his shoulder. “But at least think about what I said, okay?”

Ratio didn’t answer, and in a moment, she was gone.

He sat back, exhaling slowly. His now-empty cocktail glass was taken by the wait staff, whose glance seemed to linger at the empty seats surrounding him- longer than Ratio would have liked. The party droned on around him, laughter and clinking glasses blending into an indistinct hum. Overrated. All of it. He had shown his face and made his mandatory appearance; soon enough, he could slip away unnoticed, leaving the night, the previous conversation, and that clamorous little peacock man- behind.

Thinking of him, Ratio looked back over at the gambling tables and gasped when he saw Aventurine weaving through the crowd, making his way over.

“Gonna sit by yourself all night?” Aventurine asked as he scooted into the booth next to Ratio, spilling some of the cocktail he was holding. At a close distance, Ratio could clearly see the scattered hickies that dipped below Aventurine’s collar. 

“I didn't realize we were speaking to one another,” Ratio said, taking his eyes off the bit up neck before him and opening his novel back up.

"I can be the bigger person every now and then. In more ways than one."

“I see you learned absolutely nothing from the last time we spoke,” Ratio said, gesturing for Aventurine to wipe his nose. “Do you bother to test those random powders before you put them in your body? Do you even know what these people are giving you?”

“Mhm,” Aventurine nodded as he sucked down the cocktail in his hand and wiped his nose with his thumb. “Coke, hopefully.” 

“That’s an excellent way to get roofied.” 

“You know I love a gamble. Which, is why I’m taking one right now,” Aventurine cooed, walking his fingers across the table toward Ratio. They were promptly smushed when Ratio whacked them with the back of his book. With a dejected groan, Aventurine whined, “Okay, alright. I’m sorry about that little spat we got into. Let me buy you a drink.”

“Do not patronize me,” Ratio said, scooting away when Aventurine leaned forward.

“Come here, I’ll tie this in a knot just for you,” he said, picking the cherry out of his now-empty cocktail glass. “I know you want me to. You can’t stay away from me.”

“You’re the one who approached me, gambler. Out with it already- what is it that you want?” 

“I wanna get out of here with you.” Aventurine rifled through his suit jacket pocket, then slid his room card across the table. “Come visit me. Room 777, obviously.”

Ratio clicked his tongue and slid the card back. 

“As I previously stated, I will not be participating in your antics anymore. I advise that you leave my table at once. ” 

“We’re seriously doing this again?” Aventurine asked, cocking an eyebrow with a frown. “Didn’t we already have this fight? I said I was sorry, so just-”

“You're not sorry, because you aren't doing anything to change your behavior.”

“Why do you have to be like this?”

“Because I know you’re better than this, Aventurine.” 

Aventurine sat up a bit straighter at that, scrunching his face up in response. “You don’t know anything,” he mumbled, crossing his arms. 

“Unfortunately, I know you well enough to know that you are not nearly as stupid as you’d like everybody to believe. You know exactly what you’re doing, and until you treat yourself with an ounce of respect, I will not be indulging in anything that has to do with you.”

“Indulge?” Aventurine leaned forward, gazing up at Ratio with half-lidded eyes. His hand quickly found Ratio’s tie, and he tugged it as he whispered, “Do you consider me…tempting, doctor?”

“I swear,” Ratio said, biting the inside of his cheek as the tip of Aventurine’s nose rubbed against his neck. “You only ever hear what you want to.”

“It’s alright,” Aventurine purred, letting his other hand roam beneath the table. It ghosted over Ratio’s stomach, then quickly dipped lower. “No need to be embarrassed. I see you looking at me while you sit here, all by yourself. If you want some, all you have to do is ask.” 

Ratio was not a godly man, but at that moment, he was praying. Praying that Aventurine would tire himself out quickly, or if not that, praying for any semblance of self control. He had sworn to stick to his word, but the man next to him was all but climbing into his lap, his cologne was wrapping its way around his brain, and suddenly Ratio's pants felt a bit too small. 

“You seem busy enough with the hounds over at your gambling table,” he muttered, swallowing hard when Aventurine’s lips brushed over his neck. His hand found the small of Aventurine’s back, which only encouraged the blond further. “Shouldn't you be heading back, so that they can slobber all over you?” Ratio asked when Aventurine’s kisses turned more aggressive. “I think you could use another marking on your neck, since you seem to have such an affinity toward them.” 

“Aw, doc, I get that you’re pent up,” Aventurine said, his breath sending a chill up Ratio's spine. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been in such a mood lately; you’re upset that you haven't gotten the chance to covet a precious gem, such as myself. I’m a rarity, you know? It makes sense someone stuffy like you can't keep either of his heads straight when I'm around.”

Ratio’s eyes flicked down to the markings scattered across Aventurine’s skin and a pang of jealousy stung his stomach. With a scowl, he said, “Something is rare when it’s hard to get.”

The hands that were traveling across Ratio’s body froze, then they pulled away entirely. Aventurine was looking at the ground, his blonde bangs dangling in his face as he pursed his lips.

“Okay, you want to go there?” He asked, pushing his lips into a thin smile. “Fine. Why don’t I go back to the people who actually like me, and you can stay here until you’re ready to go back to your empty house and crawl into your cold, empty bed. Huh? How's that?"

"I couldn't think of a better way to spend my evening. Seems like a much better alternative to the night you'll inevitably be having. You'll wake up in a back ally somewhere, I presume?"

Aventurine clenched his fists and stood up from the table, looking down at Ratio with his nose high in the air. 

"It’s so obvious that you’re jealous of me,” he said, the bar lights bouncing off his perfect teeth. 

“Jealous? Jealous of what?” 

“Of everything that you can't have.”

“You’re pathetic. You do know that, right?” Ratio stood up beside him and vaguely gestured to Aventurine. “You really expect me to believe that all this makes you happy?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” He answered much too quickly, nearly biting off the end of Ratio’s sentence. A hard laugh followed as Aventurine cocked his head and asked, “Seriously? Look, I know you haven't sat in the lap of luxury before, but I have everything I could ever want. I've earned my seat at any table I want. I walk into the room and people literally cheer.”

“Because they know you’re going to buy them liquor or illicit substances.”

“Yeah, so what? I can and I will, because I don’t know if you noticed this, doctor, but I’m rich. Do you know how much I’m worth? Look at what I’m wearing; it’s probably more expensive than your entire home!” 

“Yes, I’m sure that makes you very happy, indeed. You must feel extremely fulfilled with your designer sunglasses and your thousand dollar watch.”

“Fifty five thousand,” Aventurine said, holding his wrist up with a smug expression. Ratio looked back at him with a half-lidded stare. 

“Truly, I’m green with envy,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. “You don’t fool me with this flashy persona, gambler.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“You’re insulting my intelligence.”

“You’re insulting mine.”

“No, I’m not. I’m simply addressing the fact that your schemes and lazy manipulation tactics are lost on me.” 

“Lazy? You have no idea how long it's taken me to perfect this persona.”

“So you admit it, then? This way you're acting- it's a ruse?”

Aventurine stretched his smile wider and scoffed with a flippant throw of his hand. “No, I’m just saying, the masks are a part of the show. I’ve spent years perfecting them; someone as emotionally constipated as you would never be able to tell which one I’m wearing, or what's under them.”

“Can you even tell?”

“What?”

“Without the masks, and the frivolous persona, and the ridiculous show you insist on putting on. What’s under all of that? Do you even know?” Ratio circled him like a vulture, his glare never wavering.

“I'm-” 

“You know what? I see it now. I understand what you’re doing.”

It was cracking. The mask he had so confidently plastered across his face was falling. The slightest twitch of panic crossed his expression. Aventurine blinked rapidly and let out a nervous chuckle. 

"I don't know what you mean, doctor. Surely, you've had more liquor than-,"

"Everything about you is fake. You have no idea who you actually are, do you?" Ratio leaned forward with a scathing expression as he spat, “You don’t care that you’re hurting yourself, because there isn't even anybody there to hurt. You’re so far into this farce, this character that you play, nothing matters to you anymore. So fine, Aventurine, keep it up. Don’t worry about getting better for me, or you, or anybody. Just remember the next time you're running around these galas and dinners and parties, and you’re all done up on the outside like the clamorous little peacock you are, with your chains and your rings and all this frivolous fabric,” he said, flicking the fur that was draped around Aventurine's neck. “Inside, you’re the same empty, pathetic man you always have been. You cannot purchase what your soul lacks.”

Aventurine froze, his breath hitching. Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, he stared at Ratio as if he was seeing him for the first time. The silence stretched unbearably long, neither of them daring to break it. Then, without saying anything, Aventurine’s expression hardened. He shoved past Ratio, his shoulder slamming into him, making a deliberate wound where words had failed.

The crowd parted instinctively as he stormed back to the roulette table. The moment he sank into his seat, the table erupted in cheers, the clatter of chips and laughter swallowing him whole. It was as if nothing had happened. A new drink was sitting there, waiting for his return, and as he took a sip, he wondered how much of the night he'd end up remembering. Hopefully, none of it. More people squeezed into the spaces around him, and another pair of men sat down beside him. Aventurine couldn't remember if they were the same two people he was sitting with before he got up, but it's not like that really mattered. One of their hands quickly found his thigh, and the man gave it a squeeze as he tossed a few chips toward the table.

He wanted to tell the man to get off his leg, but he knew that he couldn't. It wasn't really his anymore; it was Aventurine’s. It belonged to the IPC. It was just another prop in the show. Fingers trailed up his thighs and down his back as Aventurine sat intertwined between the two strangers, and the scene around the roulette table played out as normal. Idly playing with the chips in his right hand, he was chugging his new mystery martini with his left hand. Neither were doing enough to calm his nerves. When he slammed the empty glass down on the table, a smile was plastered over his face, but after the conversation with Ratio, there was something off about it. He watched the wheel spin with an empty stare, round after round, not betting much of anything as he ruminated on what Ratio had said. That god damn empty feeling was starting to come back.

He didn't notice when someone started to shove through the crowd and wedge their way into the booth. “Move, I need to talk to him,” a woman's voice said. Aventurine blinked hard to bring his attention back to the table, and saw Topaz stuffing herself between one of the men, breaking his grip. She shot them both a glare and the two men exchanged looks, then promptly nodded before shuffling away from Topaz’s stone-cold expression. She put a hand on Aventurine's shoulder and leaned in close to his ear, covering her mouth with her wine glass. “I don’t know if you noticed," she hissed. "But you're starting to stare through people. Jade is watching you, so I’d slow down on the drinking if I were you.”

“Well, good thing you're not me. Give me that,” Aventurine said, snatching the wine out of her hand. She glared at him as he downed it and handed her back the empty glass.

“Really smart choice. How about we make tonight just as chaotic as the last IPC gala? Remember? When you gave that guy from the Marketing Development Department a lap dance and then climbed on top of his table?” She shot him a sardonic smile and scrunched up her nose, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Actually, don’t answer that. I know you don’t remember.” 

“I’m sure you remember, though. Since you clearly had nothing better to do than watch me keep the party alive. That was probably the highlight of your week.”

"Oh yeah, I loved having to suck up to Jade and apologize for you like you're a toddler. You realize you're a twenty-six-year-old man, right?"

"Which, thankfully, is well above the legal drinking age. Make yourself useful and refill this," he said, sliding his martini glass to Topaz. 

“Aventurine, stop it." Bypassing the glass, she grabbed him by the tie, forcing him to look her in her eyes. "If you end up embarrassing yourself again, it’s going to come back on me.” 

"No, it isn’t,” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut. “You’re the one who keeps covering for me, I never asked you to do that. You just want everything to be about you because you’re the least relevant Stoneheart.” He braced for the inevitable comeback, the usual bite of her words- but it never came. Instead, Topaz’s expression faltered, the fire in her eyes dimming. She let go of his tie. No parting shot, no glare- just quiet disappointment as she turned to leave. “Wait,-” The word barely made it past his lips as he reached out, his fingers curling loosely around her wrist. Aventurine swallowed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m in a bad mood tonight.” He exhaled, his voice quieter now. “I’ll go back to my room after this game, okay? Promise.”

A round of roulette had just ended, and men were stacking glimmering metal chips on new spaces. Topaz clicked her tongue.

"Fine," she said. "One more round."

"Deal." Aventurine rolled a chip around in his hand; that nagging feeling of emptiness was crawling back inside him even faster now. The dealer looked over his glasses and motioned for Aventurine to place his bet. Looking down at his stack of chips, Ratio's words continued to haunt him.

“Inside, you’re the same empty, pathetic man you always have been. You cannot purchase what your soul lacks."

“All in,” Aventurine said, pushing his pile of chips onto the table. They fell down in a metallic cascade as he pointed to the little red rectangle marked ‘7’. “Match me.” 

“How does this game work?” Topaz asked Aventurine, watching as the other men at the roulette table shoved chips onto black and red squares. 

“There’s 36 pockets. Half black, half red. I bet money on where the ball lands.”

“Are you betting all of that on one pocket?”

“Yeah. If it lands in the pocket I picked, I get 36 times what I bet.”

“But you’d have a better chance if you bet on multiple numbers, wouldn't you?”

“I don’t care. I'm lucky, remember? I'm a lucky, lucky guy,” Aventurine said with a melancholic laugh as he began to unclasp his watch and his bracelets. Everyone at the table had stopped shuffling around with their own chips, and they were watching with wide eyes and parted lips as Aventurine added to his pile.

“You’re betting your watch?” Topaz asked, watching in apprehension as Aventurine threw the accessories on top of chips. 

“I’m betting everything,” he muttered, plucking the rings off his fingers. Gloves, necklaces, earrings, collar pins, belt, suit jacket, glasses, hat, shoes; everything. He put everything on the table until he was sitting there in a dress shirt and pants. Piles of gold and glinting gemstones sat surrounded by his signature chips. As he undressed, more people came up and surrounded the table, throwing more money and chips into the pile, desperate to try and win a piece of the pot if Aventurine lost it all. His designer bag was the last to be added, but Aventurine dumped its contents onto the table first; cologne, a wallet, spare gold jewelry, an empty letter tube, hundreds of chips, and a glinting, teal gemstone. Topaz snatched it the second she saw it and hissed, “You can’t bet your Cornerstone!”

“Yes I can, it’s mine.”

“No, it’s Diamond’s, and what do you think happens if you lose it? They just fixed it!”

“They can fix it again.”

“Damn it, Aventurine- you’re really starting to piss me off!” Topaz squeezed the Cornerstone, her knuckles turning white. “I know you’re dealing with something right now, but you’re going to disrupt all of the IPC again! You can’t keep going around in the same circle!”

“I never lose, so what’s the issue?” He asked with a huff. “If my luck is as good as everybody thinks it is, there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll buy you and Numby an island or something, and you guys can stay as far away from me as you’d like.”

“I don’t want an island, I want you to listen to me. You lived through your last trial by the skin of your teeth, and you literally just got out of rehab. Do you seriously want to do that all over again?” 

Aventurine didn't answer her, he grabbed the Cornerstone back and threw it on the table, then muttered, “Spin the wheel already.” 

The dealer spun the wheel despite Topaz's cries of protest, and everybody surrounding Aventurine held their breath. Black and red blended together as he watched the wheel whirl, and something in his stomach was praying that the ball would land anywhere else. There were 35 other pockets the ball could fall into. The table could take everything away and leave him with nothing except himself; whoever that was. Then, he could walk out of there, finally unchained, free for the first time in his life. As he pictured himself walking out into the street with nothing but the shirt on his back, he found himself thinking, Where would I go? What would I do? What sort of things do I even like?

Looking down at his gloveless hands, they were shaking harder than he had ever seen. He held them both behind his back. It felt like that damn wheel was spinning forever. 

“Are you even paying attention?” Topaz’s eyes were frantically following the wheel as the little white ball bounced between pockets. 

“I don’t feel good,” Aventurine muttered, running a hand through his bangs.

“Probably because you’re about to cost the IPC a hundred million dollars.”

“No, I mean, is it hot in here? It feels hot.” 

When you take away the gems and the outfit, what was I like before all of this? Back when Kakavasha was still a person and not a gemstone. Can…can I even remember?

A sharp pain stung his temples as he heard strings of panicked onlookers yell into his ears, shouting at the spinning wheel. 

“I need air,” Aventurine said, grabbing at the collar of his shirt as he tried to stand up. Bodies kept crowding around him, boxing him into the booth. Shoved back into his seat, he had no choice but to watch as the roulette wheel slowed. He was holding his breath as the ball banged around, chanting over and over again in his head that it landed absolutely anywhere else. 

That little ball bounced through the pockets and finally stopped moving, settling into the little red divot marked with a 7. 

Everybody went silent for a minute. It seemed like the entire party died down; glasses stopped clinking around, the music stalled, and all the people crowded around the table starred in absolute amazement. Aventurine looked at the roulette table with the most despondent glare. 

“No way,” said Topaz, before the crowd of people all collectively took a shaky inhale to prompt their cheers. “You actually won!”

Chaos erupted across the table. Chips were flying, drinks were spilling, people were either shouting in amazement or mourning the money they had just lost, though it was absolutely nothing in comparison to what Aventurine had just won.

“How much money even is that?" Topaz asked. "I mean, that’s hundreds of millions of dollars! Aventurine, I can’t believe you!” 

Even though he had taken off his choker, his neck felt unbelievably tight. He finally pushed himself to his feet, but the moment he moved, the crowd swallowed him whole. Voices blurred together, simultaneously congratulating him and asking him for money in the same breath. The room tilted. His breaths came shallow, useless, slipping past his parted lips but never quite filling his lungs. Topaz was in front of him, shaking him, her voice frantic- but he barely registered the pressure of her hands before he staggered past her, away from the table. Away from the flashing lights, the clinking glasses, the rising cheers.

More bodies pressed in. Hands clapped against his back. Laughter shrieked too loud in his ears. A champagne bottle popped beside his head, and the spray hit his skin like ice. He winced, shielding his face. The world was spinning, the walls of the hotel stretching and warping around him. Then, through the blurry crowd, a pair of golden eyes locked onto him from across the room.

Ratio.

For a fleeting second, Aventurine swore he was smirking, but Ratio’s expression quickly fell. He pushed up from his seat, his gaze sharpening as he mouthed something to Aventurine, but Aventurine couldn't make it out. The faces around him started blurring together into one, dark color, as a cold chill ran up his spine. The weight of his winnings pulled him down, and for a second, Aventurine wondered if he was dying; despite his luck always keeping him alive, this time, he was hoping it would falter.

Chapter Text

Aventurine stumbled back through the crowd and collapsed like a house of cards, straight onto another table which gave out underneath him. Drinks flew and chips clattered to the ground right next to Aventurine, who lay in the wreckage. It didn't hurt; his entire body, inside and out, was painfully numb. 

Ratio shot up from his table so fast, he nearly knocked over a waiter as he plowed through the crowd until he saw Aventurine in a pile on the floor. Glass and sticky liquor were scattered across him. 

“Gambler,” Ratio said, dropping to his knees despite the mess. Liquid seeped through the knees of his dress pants, and he cupped Aventurine’s face with his hand. “Look at me. Are you okay?” 

Aventurine struggled to open his eyes, dazed and dead-pale. He shook his head.  

“We’re going up to your room,” Ratio said, wrapping an arm around Aventurine’s waist so he could hurl him up into a standing position. Ignoring the crowd, he shoved through the on-lookers shouting, “Out of my way, immediately!” Aventurine tripped over his footing as Ratio took him away and whisked him out of the massive lobby, toward a line of elevators. “Try to walk, if you can. I do not wish to embarrass you any more by carrying you out of here.” 

“Not so embarrassing,” Aventurine mumbled, immediately leaning up against the elevator door to catch his balance. “This is pretty much what people expect from me. Topaz is probably dying laughing over there.”

“She was not,” Ratio said sternly, not sparing Aventurine a glance as he pressed the button up to the seventh floor. “Actually, she looked rather perturbed.”

Aventurine pressed his lips into a pout. 

“Whatever.”

They were on the seventh floor in no time, and Ratio kept his arm tight around Aventurine until he had his hotel room unlocked. The room was spacious, tastefully adorned with a palette of muted earth tones and splashes of rich jewel colors. A plush king-sized bed dominated the center, draped in crisp white linens and an opulent, emerald green throw. Aventurine’s many luggage bags were tucked away by the pair of velvet armchairs and the marble-topped coffee table. It looked like someone had already come and unpacked for him. An ice bucket stuffed with champagne was perched in the center, along with a card from the hotel staff. Ratio led Aventurine to the bed and loosened his grip. 

“Sit down and stay. I need to grab a few things.” Taking off toward the attached bathroom, Ratio looked over his shoulder to say, “I mean it. Stay.”

“I’m not a dog,” Aventurine muttered, though he collapsed back into the pillows and ran a hand through his hair. 

“You might as well be with the way I have to watch over you,” Ratio called from the bathroom. When he returned, he had a washcloth and a bottle of water. Snapping the cap off, Ratio commanded, “Drink.”

Aventurine muttered something incoherent as he took a tiny sip of water, and Ratio gave him a quick once-over, assessing the damage. The blond’s shirt was soaked through with liquor, and pieces of shattered martini glasses were poking out of his shoulders. Ratio ran one of his hands along Aventurine’s face. “You’re warm,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Though I’m unsure if it’s an actual fever, or if the multitude of illicit substances you consume has tipped off your immune system.” 

“Take a guess,” he said, shying away from Ratio’s touch when the man cupped his cheek with the damp, cool washcloth. “You’re the doctor, aren't you?” 

“I have a doctoral degree in medicine,” Ratio said, running the washcloth across Aventurine’s forehead. “That doesn't necessarily make me a specialist in eccentric young men who intentionally torture themselves.”

“By now, I’d consider you an expert.” Aventurine flinched again at Ratio’s touch. “You don’t have to do all this.”

“You’re covered in liquor.”

“So? I’ll live,” he said under his breath, adding a chiding, “Unfortunately.”

“Stop.” Ratio paused for a moment, then muttered, “Speaking of, you’re surprisingly coherent. I figured you’d be incapacitated by this point in the night.”

“Yeah, coke has that effect on people.” Aventurine caught himself quickly, stuttering out, “I mean, uh— Diet Coke. Drank a ton of it, sobered me right up.”

“Spare me the falsehoods.” From his front pocket, Ratio pulled out a small red bag. Inside were a few alcohol wipes, assorted bandages, single pack pills, and a pair of silver tweezers. 

“What’s that?” Aventurine asked as Ratio took him by the arm. 

“I always carry a travel first aid kit with me.”

“In your dress-pant pockets?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Should anything happen, most people will ask me for assistance, considering my title. Also, most of the formal events I attend include running into you, and I have learned to anticipate you pulling some sort of ridiculous stunt.”

The tweezers pinched a piece of glass in Aventurine’s elbow, and the blond grunted as Ratio flicked his wrist back. He discarded the shard in the tiny hotel trash can. 

“Shit, do I seriously have glass stuck in me?”

“Are you not in pain?”

“No. Can’t really feel anything.”

“You crashed into that table like a bull. I’m shocked this is all the damage you took.”

“My bad,” Aventurine muttered, scrunching his nose as he watched Ratio pick the shards from his champagne-soaked skin. 

“Are you ill?” Ratio asked.

“No,” Aventurine said softly. “Not physically, I guess. Maybe mentally.”

“I knew that much.” Ratio lined the tweezers up with another piece of glass. “What happened, then?”

“Just got sort of dizzy,” Aventurine mumbled into the water bottle. “Are you going to chew me out for making a scene?”

“It’s not like it would make a difference,” Ratio said, tugging a chunk of glass with the tips of the tweezers. “You don’t listen.” 

“I’m sorry.”

The doctor worked silently for a few more minutes, then ran an alcohol pad across the wounds in Aventurine’s skin. Aventurine didn’t bother thanking him. He pushed himself off the bed with a grunt, his legs unsteady beneath him as he staggered toward the kitchenette. His fingers fumbled at the ice bucket before fishing out a chilled bottle of champagne. Droplets of condensation ran down his wrist as he gripped it too tight.

“Don’t even start,” Aventurine said preemptively, pointing a finger at Ratio. “I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“I said nothing.” Ratio leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Aventurine struggle with the cork. 

“Good. Keep it that way.” The tension in his jaw tightened as he wrestled the cork free and it shot across the room with a loud thunk against the hotel wall. Aventurine didn’t flinch; just lifted the bottle straight to his lips and took a long, burning gulp.

Ratio watched him, then said, “You’re celebrating?”

“What happened to not saying anything?”

“I’m only inquiring the reason for your continued consumption of alcohol, considering you fainted in the middle of the hotel lobby mere moments ago. Which, surely has nothing to do with your heinous binge-drinking habit that you refuse to acknowledge.” 

Aventurine kept the bottle in his mouth and flipped Ratio off. 

“I couldn't quite hear,” Ratio continued, all but too amused with himself. “But, I believe you won a sizable amount of money. That must be the cause of your eagerness.” Aventurine let out a humorless huff. Ratio watched him, head tilting ever so slightly. “Are you happy, then?” Ratio asked, his voice laced with mock curiosity.

Aventurine pulled the bottle away just enough to shoot him a glare, champagne sloshing dangerously near the rim. The bitter fizz still burned in his throat, but not nearly enough to wash away the numbness in his chest. He knew what Ratio saw—the disheveled hair, the wrinkled, stained clothes, the shadowed bruises blooming down his neck, the deep bags under his eyes. His scowl deepened. “You’re seriously asking me that right now?”

“Well, a mere moment ago, you insisted that money fulfilled you entirely. Surely you’re in paradise, are you not?” 

“You have to rub it in?” 

“Until you stop with this ridiculous charade, yes. I will rub it in as much as I please.” 

The champagne bubbled over the bottle when Aventurine drew it back from his mouth again. He watched it dribble onto his designer pants and soak into the fabric. 

“Fine. You want the truth, doc? Truth is, I’m stuck. I screwed myself, and now I can’t get out.” 

“What are you talking about?” Ratio crossed his arms as he anticipated an answer. 

“I’m still a slave,” Aventurine said, flatly. “I’ll always be a slave. It doesn't matter where I go, or who I become in the process. I’ll always be chained to something, I’ll always belong to someone, and I’ll never truly be free. That’s the truth.” 

The energy in the room changed. Ratio pursed his lips, watching as Aventurine leaned up against the wall and slid down until he was sitting with his knees against his chest. Though he wanted to sit beside him, Ratio kicked off his shoes and took a seat on the bed instead, careful to leave some space between the two of them. 

“Though I do not know much about your time in Sigonia, I imagine that your life now is better than it was then, no?”

“No,” Aventurine said, shaking his head. “Back then, I had my mother and my sister. That's all I needed. But, this arrangement is objectively better than my previous one, I guess. At least I’m worth more than 60 copper pieces now.”

“You’ve always been worth more than that.”

“I thought…” He ran his thumb around the lip of the bottle, his eyes fixed on the floor. “When I was on trial before Jade and she gave me the offer, I was afraid to say no. I was afraid of dying after fighting so hard to survive, but…I did die that day. Jade made sure of it.” The silence of the hotel room was painfully apparent as Aventurine paused to think again, hardly blinking. “When I walked into my own bedroom that night, with my own bed and my own window, and my Cornerstone was in my hand for the first time…it didn't feel the way I thought it would. I grew up thinking money was the ultimate form of freedom, that someday if I had enough of it, I'd be too powerful for anybody to touch me.” He brought the bottle back to his lips and muttered, “metaphorically and physically.” 

Ratio crossed his arms, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

“You know what Jade told me the day I got my Cornerstone?” Aventurine asked him, though he didn’t wait for an answer. “She said that I was the perfect choice to be Aventurine, ‘cause I was already like a gemstone. I was destined to be desired, sought, cut, and sold.” He let out a hard laugh and shook his head. “She was right. No matter what, I’m stuck in this loop, and when I'm finally in a place where I don’t have to fight to stay alive,” he said, running a hand through his bangs with a melancholic smile. “I don’t want to be alive.” 

Ratio didn’t take his eyes off Aventurine for the entire time he spoke. 

 “So…well, back to your original question. You wanna know the truth?” Aventurine stood up with a dramatic sigh, clenching the bottle of champagne by the neck with a white knuckle grip. Ratio flinched at his change of demeanor, and in the intensity of his voice when Aventurine shouted, “Truth is— I’m fucked!” He slammed the bottle against the desk. Stripping off his suit jacket, he threw it onto the ground and started pacing back and forth. “I’m too far gone now, there’s nothing I can do, and everything that I thought would make me happy, doesn't! I don’t even feel sad anymore; I just feel nothing !” The knot in his tie was particularly stubborn; he used both hands to pry it off his neck and drop it, immediately crushing it on account of his frantic pacing. “Every time I win a gamble, the emptiness in my chest just gets bigger. Everything is about money now— how much I can make the IPC, how much I can take from other planets, and how much I can get stupid old men to fork over just to have me for the night!”

“That’s the past, though. People don’t pay for you anymore—”

“Oh, but they do!” Aventurine lurched forward, teeth bared. “I have to close every deal I can, and I’ve gotta do anything to make it happen! What do you think their first thought is when they see this thing, huh?” He pointed a finger to his branding scar. “I’ll give you three guesses!”  

“I don’t—”

“Everybody sees this and they know , they know I’m an Avgin and they know that if they want me, they can have me, because Avgin slaves aren't people, right? But I don’t care; I let them use me however they want to— wanna know why? Because this body doesn't even feel like it's mine anymore! When someone touches me, I swear to Giathra I feel like I’m watching it happen from the other side of the room!”

Words weren't coming out of Ratio’s mouth as quickly as he wanted them to. By the time he got out a shaky, “I had no idea,” Aventurine was already biting off the end of his sentence to scream, “It’s not even just my body! None of me feels real, I don’t even feel alive! Every single day, I feel like I’m in a terrible show that never ends, and everybody who gets involved with me ends up losing so much more than they had to start, all because of my stupid luck! What’s lucky about this? Tell me— what makes my situation a lucky one?"

“Well, because you’re—”

“Because I’m alive after all this? I don’t want to be!”

“That’s not what—”

“It’s not like the IPC even gives a fuck who Aventurine is! If I killed myself tonight, they’d replace me by tomorrow morning, you know that they would. All the people down there cheering for me probably wouldn't even notice if someone else started playing this part! They don’t need me , nobody does— they just need somebody ! Half the Stonehearts voted for me to be killed, the other half just love to watch me stumble around and make an ass out of myself! Opal, Jade, Obsidian, even Diamond— I’m just entertainment to them!” 

“Please don't—”

“They watched me on Penacony like I was a circus act, and every day I wish that knight would have left me in Nihility to die.” Tears streaked down his flushed cheeks as he bit back a sob and screamed, “I wanted to die there, on that stage, and end this fucking show once and for all! Cut the lights, close the curtains, I’ve had enough!” 

The champagne bottle exploded against the edge of the desk. Ratio didn't even notice him pick it back up— but now, it was broken, the golden liquid dripping onto the carpet. Aventurine wiped his hands across the desk and flung everything off; papers, pamphlets, and folders sliced through the air. Everything was blurring together as the horrible, hollow feeling in his chest consumed him entirely and he screamed, his voice raw with anguish. His breath came in sharp, jagged gasps, and suddenly he couldn't even tell if he was breathing at all. 

Ratio stood by the wall, rooted to the ground as he watched in horror. He was teetering on his front foot, flinching every time something crashed against the wall of the dimly lit hotel room. He bit the inside of his cheek and desperately tried to think of the best course of action. Run? Intervene? Talk? Yell? Nothing felt right. “Aventurine-” Ratio’s voice cracked. He cringed as soon as it left his mouth, realizing that may not have been the optimal thing to say.  

He didn’t hear Ratio. Or if he did, it didn’t matter. His body was on autopilot; moving, thrashing, breaking— he pulled the curtains down until the hooks snapped, then threw the billowing fabric to the floor. His knee shot through one of the canvas paintings that used to be hanging on the wall. One, two, three lamps went flying against the headboard of the bed and it exploded into thousands of shards, glass scattering like tiny stars across the duvet. The armchair tumbled over, his suitcases smacked onto the ground and split open, Aventurine’s arms flailed as he batted the ice bucket across the room, making bottles explode against the ground. When there was nothing left to destroy, Aventurine’s chest heaved as he paused in the wreckage, only for a second, until his eyes caught the glass covering the bed. He reached into the glinting sea despite Ratio’s cries of protest and he grabbed a thick shard, not noticing it cut his fingers as he dragged it down his hand in a frantic swipe. The piece of glass sliced through the meat of his palm like it was butter. Blood welled up and started dripping onto the duvet cover when Ratio forcibly grabbed him by the wrists and struggled to restrain him.

“That’s enough,” Ratio said, firmly, veins straining in his wrists as he desperately fought against him. “Stop it, now.” 

“I can’t even feel it,” Aventurine sobbed, watching as the blood leaked from his palm and down his wrist. “I can’t feel anything!”

“Because your adrenaline is heightened, you fool!” Ratio shook the glass out of his hand right before Aventurine stomped on his foot, but he didn’t let his grip falter. “Damn it,” Ratio growled, “I said stop! You’re hurting yourself!”

“I don’t care,” Aventurine cried as he kicked and thrashed. “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care about any of this! I don’t want any of this!” 

“What do you want, then?”

“I don’t know!” 

The struggle abruptly ended when Aventurine collapsed into a hysterical pile on the floor, with his hands wrapped around his body, clenching his frame like he was going to fall apart. Ratio took a step back, carefully observing, trying to steady his breathing. 

“I want out,” Aventurine winced. “But I don’t want to be alone. I want somebody to know me, but I don’t even know myself. You’re right. Everything you said was right.”

“What did I say?” Ratio asked, his memory void of anything that wasn’t the scene he just witnessed. 

“There’s nobody there. I don't care if I hurt myself, because I don't know who I am.” 

While Aventurine cried, Ratio took a few cautious steps forward, then knelt down. He held his hand out and waited for Aventurine to reach out first, so he could gently wipe the blood off his hand. The touch was warm and tender. 

“It’s okay,” Ratio said.

“I know who Aventurine is,” he continued as Ratio assessed the damage. “But that’s not me. I’m just some loser wearing the costume. Whoever I used to be died a long time ago.”

“That doesn't mean you deserve to treat yourself like this,” Ratio said, grimacing as he saw how clean the glass had sliced Aventurine’s palm. 

“Who am I without that rock? Who am I with it? I know who I used to be before I got it, but that person doesn't exist anymore.” 

“Are you sure that he doesn't?” 

“I don't think so. I don’t think he can. I don’t think he’d make it.” Aventurine grabbed at his dress shirt like he was trying to rip his chest open. “The only thing I know I still am, is a loser. I’m selfish and I’m stupid and I’m so fucking scared all the time and no matter how much I win, I’m such a loser. My mother, my sister,” he stifled a sob into his free hand and said, “They’d be so disappointed with the person I turned into.” 

“That isn't true.”

“It is. I’m a fraud. I’m everything they hated. All I do now is work for the IPC and ruin people’s lives. That’s all that I’m doing to you.”

“You’re not ruining my life.”

“But I know that being around me hurts you, and I still can’t stay away. I’m selfish.”

A lump was growing in Ratio’s throat—he had to say it. What better time than now? Aventurine took risks all the time. Maybe he could take one, just this once. 

“Kakavasha,” he said softly, and Aventurine jolted up.  

“How do you know that?” His voice was hardly audible as he looked back at the doctor, awestruck. 

“He’s still in there. I see him all the time. He’s there when you laugh, and when you tease me, and when you show your foolish amusement over mundane things. When we do something together on a sunny day, and those ridiculous sunglasses slide down your nose, and I can see your eyes light up with the most authentic happiness, that’s him. When I catch you daydreaming, on those rare occasions where you aren't worried about your public persona and you’re lost in thought, he’s the only person I can see. Everyone else pales in comparison, and it frustrates me to no end.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Aventurine said, but he didn’t pull away when Ratio took him by the wrists and gently pulled him into a hug.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Ratio said into his ear. “I trust that you know me well enough to know that I’m not one to entertain my emotions. I prefer to ignore them for as long as possible, hopefully until they disappear entirely. And trust that I tried everything in my power to not feel like this. I changed my diet, my sleep schedule, my supplements, I even started taking cold showers every morning to try and rid my mind of the image of you, but I can’t . Ever since the day I met you and you pulled that ridiculous stunt with the gun, I have not been able to close my eyes at night without thinking of you. I am so helplessly in love with you, Kakavasha. It’s consuming every part of me.” 

“Don’t say that,” Aventurine said again, shaking his head. Ratio ran a hand down Aventurine’s jawline and cupped his chin, whispering, “I am begging you to stop fighting it and just let me love you.” 

“How can you love somebody like me?” 

“Very easily.” 

“You know that’s not what—” 

Ratio placed a finger on Aventurine’s lips and shook his head. 

“I’m not finished,” he said, and Aventurine’s auroral eyes widened. 

“Okay, I’m kinda into the dominant Ratio.”

“Kakavasha,” Ratio started, ignoring the taunt. “I understand that you’re in pain and I’m sorry. I wish that I could take it away from you, but you cannot keep behaving this way.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Aventurine said, flicking his eyes down at the floor. “Really. I know that there’s something wrong, but I can’t fix it.”

“You could try seeing a psychiatrist.” 

“I don’t want to. I don’t like feeling crazy.”

“You are not crazy. You’re traumatized to a degree that is much too big for you to overcome by yourself.” Taking Aventurine’s hand, he brought it up to his mouth and left a light kiss on his knuckles, saying, “I see somebody too, you know?”

“You do?”

“Yes. Once a month. Her name is Eloria.”

“I didn't know that.” 

“And you can also come to me. I know that I’m not always as sensitive as I should be, but that’s something I can work on, too. Learning how to help you in a way that…well, helps you. I'm aware that healing is not as simple as me telling you to go to therapy, so let me be supportive in a way that you'd like.” Ratio smiled, gently caressing Aventurine’s hand in his. “I’m asking you to lean on me more. If you’re feeling bad, you can tell me and I will help you. Even if there’s nothing to be done about it, I can offer you compassion. I can hold you, if you’d like me to.” 

Aventurine stared at him with watery eyes for a moment, before whispering, "I'd like you to." Ratio took him in his arms and squeezed, and Aventurine relaxed against his grip. 

“What if I can’t do it?” Aventurine's voice was muffled against Ratio's shoulder. “What if nothing fills this hole inside of me and I just mess everything up?”

“Progress like this isn’t linear. If you make a mistake and fall back into habits, we can work through it. But right now, you are not even trying, and you know that.” 

Aventurine put his tongue in his cheek and looked down with a pout. Ratio put his thumb under his chin and propped his head back up, so they were looking one another in the eyes. 

“Talk to me. Don’t shut down just because I’m being direct.”

“You’re getting too comfortable with the therapy talk,” Aventurine muttered, but he let Ratio pull him back into a hug. “Okay. I’ll try to get some help. I’m sorry it took this long for me to say that. I really never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that. I'm sorry I've lost my temper with you so many times. I never meant to treat you so harshly.”

"I know that, too."

Aventurine’s hands ghosted around Ratio’s waist and they pressed their noses together, both smiling, but Ratio kept trying to pull back. 

“Wait, are you sure?” he asked, fingers clenched in the fabric of Aventurine's shirt, “I don’t want to ruin anything.”

“You’re not gonna ruin anything,” Aventurine said with a soft chuckle, digging his nails into Ratio’s back. “You’ve been ruining me for years. You just didn’t know it.”

There was a heartbeat of hesitation, and then and their lips finally met. Ratio wasn't sure if he was supposed to be holding his breath, but he definitely was, and it was not helping how lightheaded he felt. Aventurine just smiled against his mouth, patient and slow, guiding the kiss into something warm and trembling. Their lips pressed together harder and the kiss deepened; not frantic, but hungry in that quiet, aching way. Desperate not in speed, but in how much they felt. All that waiting, all that pretending not to want this— pouring into the space between their mouths. It was almost painful to pull away, but Ratio did it anyway, if only to catch his breath. Aventurine’s fingers crept down Ratio’s torso and slipped under the waistband of his dress pants. 

“Not tonight,” Ratio whispered, holding Aventurine’s wrists.

“Why? Don’t you want to?”

“Very much, but…tonight isn't the right time. Tonight, I’d rather—” Ratio cringed as he thought of saying the word. “Lay close together with you, on the bed. And…hold each other?” 

It was much worse than just saying the word. 

"You wanna cuddle?” Aventurine asked, stifling a laugh.

“Well, we’ll have to do it in my room. There’s glass everywhere.” Ratio scoffed and crossed his arms, asking, “What are you smiling about?”

“I'm just thinking about how...you said the L word first,” Aventurine sneered. “Topaz and Numbey owe me a hundred bucks.”

Oh, please.” Ratio rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. “Of course you roped the poor warptrotter into your gambling schemes."

"I knew you'd say it first." Shoulder to shoulder, Aventurine leaned against Ratio's body, his face pulled up into a smirk. 

"You don't know anything. Come on, then. Up." Ratio yanked him into a standing position, but the blond quickly snaked his hands around Ratio's waist and squeezed. 

"Thank you," he whispered into Ratio's chest. "For everything. Seriously."

"You don't have to thank me. Just don't trash my hotel room like you did with this one, okay?" 

"Are you sure? I can pay to replace it, you know? I just won enough money to buy this hotel. We can get super freaky and really leave our mark on this place."

"Kakavasha."

"Okay, fine. No hotel room trashing. Only cuddling. Or, as you put it, laying close together on the bed and holding each other-ing."

"Very good." Ratio kissed the top of his head and lead him to the door, leaving the mess behind them.