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Veritas thought he was smarter than this. Much smarter than this. 

Card games weren’t just luck , and he knew that. There were only a certain number of cards in a deck, and only a certain number of each suit and value. With enough observation and deductions, one would be able to figure out games like poker and black-jack quite easily. 

There was also the mental aspect. The tricking of your opponent. Schooling ones features into something calm and unbothered so as not to scare them away with the thoughts of a good hand, or to let them know how utterly horrible your cards were, was paramount in many games of gambling. 

So then, why was Veritas losing so miserably ? 

He shouldn’t have even entertained the idea of something as foolish as strip poker. Those kinds of games were more befitting of rowdy college students during a summer break, the kind of game young teenagers play when one too many drinks in at a house party. 

But Aventurine, as per usual, had done a phenomenal job of worming his way under Veritas’s skin. Veritas had barely been one drink in - the only drink he had planned to have that night when he had entered Aventurine’s apartment - when Aventurine had made the ridiculous proposal. 

Of course, Veritas had scoffed and leaned back on the couch he had been lounging on, refusing any ridiculous games and jokes. He didn’t want to indulge in whatever ridiculous ploy Aventurine had been concocting for his arrival - he had simply hoped for a chat and a drink. 

Of course, it was never that easy. Aventurine had challenged his wit, his confidence, and his intellect, stopping at nothing for the opportunity to play one single poker game. With his sly tongue and his calculated gaze, Aventurine had somehow, somehow , managed to convince Veritas to play a round of strip poker. 

That was how Veritas ended up in the ridiculous and compromising position he was now - hunched over on the couch, a pile of clothes by his side, while only his trousers remained on his person. 

Aventurine hadn’t removed a single article of clothing. He hadn’t even needed to pluck his gloves from his hands. Veritas scowled over his cards, unable to even attempt some sort of easy-going facade to trick Aventurine into thinking he was calm - he wasn’t. 

It was an embarrassing sight, really. Veritas had even removed his sandals, while Aventurine lounged in the armchair across from him, eyeing his cards casually, as if Veritas was not completely shirtless right in front of him.

“Maybe you should concede early.” Aventurine suggests casually, as if he were speaking of the weather. 

Veritas only furrows his brow in frustration, keeping his eyes trained on his hand as he tried to think of any way to make it better than what it was.

A seven of hearts, and a two of clubs. The three cards on the table were a king of spades, a king of hearts, and a 4 of diamonds. 

Just what was Veritas meant to do with that ? Every round had been just like this - an abysmal hand held between Veritas’s fingers, while Aventurine somehow managed to lay down high scoring hands onto the table. 

Not only was it annoying, it was also statistically unlikely. Unfortunately, unlikely did not mean impossible, and a man like Aventurine would always, somehow, manage to do the impossible. 

It was something Veritas was equal parts grateful for and perturbed by. Grateful, as that dashing stroke of luck usually got Aventurine out of some rather difficult and dangerous situations. Perturbed, because Veritas was unsure if one day, that luck would run out.

Getting another card on the glass coffee-table between them was the only choice he really had. Though, he had little hope that it would help him. Every time he had tried to do anything other than fold, it had ended abysmally. Regardless of whether he lost to Aventurine during a round or folding, it ended with the same result - one less article of clothing. 

With a sigh, Veritas drops his poorly cards onto the table and stands from the couch. His hands are quick to find the buckle of his belt, and a faint jingling fills the air. 

Aventurine chuckles smoothly, letting his own cards drop face-up on the coffee-table. Two kings. Aventurine was sitting on a four of a kind, which was frustrating on its own, but even more so when Veritas remembered that it had been a four of tens that had rendered him completely shirtless a couple of rounds ago. 

Aventurine makes a show of leaning back in his armchair, much like an egotistical king leisurely enjoying his throne. He leans the side of his face in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm, his legs spreading out comfortably. 

He had been staring the entire time, and Veritas knew that. Whenever Aventurine peeked over the cards in his hand, his bright eyes would always trail their way over Veritas’s form. 

He watched Veritas remove his belt and trousers with ease, chuckling as they are tossed onto the couch with the rest of Veritas’s clothing. He was left standing before Aventurine in only a simple black pair of boxer-briefs that hugged his form tightly. 

“You could have been more cheeky, you know.” Aventurine notes. “The belt could have been its own thing. You could have counted your laurel.” He glances to the golden leaves that stayed within Veritas’s hair. 

“As ridiculous as this entire scenario is, gambler, I am not that petty. Rules are rules, are they not?” Veritas crosses his arms over his chest, staring down at the cards on the table yet again, as if fact-checking the hand Aventurine had been dealt. 

Veritas had shuffled the deck himself, and been the one to deal the cards out, so there was no tangible way that Aventurine could have done anything to secure himself better cards. Besides, whilst the man was cunning, Veritas would like to believe he was above petty cheating. 

With the amount of rounds that had passed between them, Veritas thought that Aventurine would lose at least a few. Perhaps, if he had, he would have tossed his coat to the side. Or, he may have done the very thing he suggested to Veritas - been cheeky. Veritas can clearly imagine Aventurine removing a single golden ring from his fingers, adamantly declaring that it counted as one item of clothing. 

The worst part about all of this was how familiar it was. Veritas should have known better than to indulge himself in games and bets against someone like Aventurine. Even without his blessing of luck, Aventurine knew games like that back of his hand. He was a formidable opponent, and a thorn to Veritas’s side. 

Veritas hated how often they ended up in this kind of position, and yet, he never shied away from a game. It didn’t matter the wager - Veritas simply wanted to do his best to prove that he could outwit a goddesses blessing. 

He has had yet to be successful. 

“Maybe you’ll get me out of my clothes one day.” Aventurine shrugs. 

“I don’t need poker games to do that.” Veritas’s analytical gaze flicks up from the table to where Aventurine sat. 

“Oh, I know. But wouldn’t that be fun? Beating me and making me undress like that?” Aventurine’s smile is equal parts crooked and charming. 

“It all ends the same either way. You win, the wager is usually already stacked in your favour, we fool around. I’m surprised you haven't taken to simply asking me over to spend the night without all of this…” Veritas makes a vague and non-committed gesture. 

“Fanfare?” Aventurine offers. 

“Yes, let’s go with that.” Veritas nods. 

“Well, if you know how this all ends…” Aventurine’s cheshire smile seems to only get wider. “Why don’t we get to the main event?” 

Veritas gives a small huff, shaking his head fondly as he steps his way around the coffee-table, stopping when he finds himself standing between Aventurine’s knees. 

Aventurine lifts his hand, beckoning a little closer with his fingers. Veritas, however, shakes his head. 

“Oh? I thought we were on the same page?” Aventurine raises a brow. 

“We are, but you are far too clothed. The game is over, isn’t it?” 

“You want me to undress?” 

“I do.” Veritas nods. 

Aventurine scoffs slightly, but the smile does not leave his face. He keeps his eyes locked onto Veritas’s own as he leans forward a little bit to shrug off his coat. It takes a small amount of shuffling, but he does manage to completely remove it from himself, then hands it to Veritas. 

“Be a dear, will you?”

“I’ll consider it.” Despite his words, Veritas still reaches for the coat without any hesitation. As Aventurine begins to unbutton his waist-coat, Veritas folds the lavish coat in his hands, then turns to place it next to the cards that were still laid out on the table. 

By the time he turns back, Aventurine has rid himself of his waistcoat and is also handing that to Veritas. Of course, it finds its place neatly on top of the folded coat. 

Left only in his green shirt and white trousers, Aventurine leans back yet again. This time, when he beckons, Veritas indulges him, moving to settle himself onto Aventurine’s lap. 

The first time Veritas had ever straddled Aventurine like this, he had been slightly concerned about his size. Aventurine was shorter and slimmer than he was, and in situations such as this, it became even more obvious. 

But Aventurine had relished in it, and in fact, had come to adore moments such as this. He loved having Veritas on his lap, and he definitely loved the feeling of Veritas straddling his hips whenever they got to bed. 

Aventurine’s hands find Veritas’s bare waist, the fabric of his gloves gliding smoothly over his warm skin. Aventurine bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes hungrily wander Veritas's muscular form. He takes in the sight of Veritas's muscular chest, as well as the thin scars that lined the underside of his pecs. 

He could see the firm muscle of Veritas’s toned abs, and right above the waistband of Veritas’s boxer-briefs, he could see the thick trail of dark violet hair that led down below. 

It was a sight that Aventurine had become so very familiar with, a sight that only fueled his late-night fantasies and his daydreams while at work. Many a time he had pressed his face into the delightful patch of hair, and many a time he had been swept up in his darling doctors arms in moments of stolen passion. 

Aventurine had had enough of waiting. With Veritas now perched on top of him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to draw this out any longer. Even a man like him had his limits, and it just so happened that Veritas had a habit of bringing forward those feelings of impatience. 

Aventurine tugs on Veritas’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together as his lips hungrily seek Veritas’s. Veritas sinks into that sensation, moaning against Aventurine lips. His hands quickly make their way into Aventurine’s sandy locks, gripping tightly enough that the slight sting causes Aventurine’s slim fingers to flex against Veritas’s bare waist. 

Veritas could already feel how hard Aventurine was under him. He had a hunch that Aventurine may have been feeling the effects of arousal the entire time they were playing poker, and now that he could finally touch Veritas, he was able to simply let everything go. 

So, what better to do, than to grind down against Aventurine’s aching bulge and elicit a response? 

Veritas does just that, rolling his hips downward and smirking against Aventurine’s lips when he feels the way Aventurine squirms in return. When Veritas repeats that motion, Aventurine breaks the kiss to gasp, then moan. 

“You’re already so riled up…” Veritas notes, a hint of playful disdain working its way into his voice. He only wanted to tease. 

“I’ve had a very handsome man in very little clothing sitting across from me. How could I help myself?” Aventurine grins up at him. 

“You could have simply asked for this. Instead, you laid out a little trap.”

“So, you knew it was a trap, and you walked into it anyway? If I didn’t know any better, doc, I’d say you actually like indulging me-” 

Aventurine’s words are quickly quietened when Veritas tugs his hair again, pulling him forward and seeking his mouth for another kiss. 

The gasp that Aventurine let out from the sudden pull of his hair gave Veritas ample room to invade his mouth, his tongue easily sliding in against Aventurine’s. He could taste rum on his tongue, not a flavour he himself particularly enjoyed on its own, but mixed with Aventurine taste?

It bordered on divine. 

Eagerly, Veritas’s hands work their way down to the buckled choker that sat over the collar of Aventurine’s shirt. He manages to undo it rather easily, without breaking the kiss, drinking in Aventurine’s moans and flavour.

Unlike the carefully folded coat and waist-coat, the choker is dropped somewhere beside the armchair. Once that was on the floor and out of the way, his hands make quick work of starting to remove Aventurine’s shirt. 

He doesn’t remove the shirt completely, but he opens it up enough that Aventurine’s chest is well and truly exposed. He runs his hand down Aventurine’s chest and stomach, humming at the warmth beneath his fingertips. 

When Veritas runs his hand back up to Aventurine’s chest, he presses his palm flat against his skin. Aventurine’s heartbeat was hard and fast against Veritas’s palm, the undeniable proof that, no matter what kind of mischievous remarks he makes, he is just as excited as Veritas was. 

While Veritas’s hand explores over the expanse of Aventurine’s chest, Aventurine’s hands have wandered their way down to Veritas’s hips, his fingertips toying with the elastic waistband. 

Veritas could sense his impatience. Perhaps he liked that feeling, and that was why he always made sure to draw things out. They had met up for nights just like this many times by now, and Veritas was sure that the slow build, the anticipation, was what really got Aventurine going. 

That would explain why he never outright asked. He would never be straightforward with Veritas, always disguising his true intentions with bets and games and enough innuendoes to make anyone roll their eyes. Because it was fun that way. Waiting, watching, playing with his food before he was able to feast - that was what Aventurine wanted. 

It wasn’t something Veritas entirely understood. He much preferred for things to be clear. But, if Aventurine needed to win a game beforehand to stroke his own ego before Veritas got to stroking him, then so be it. 

Aventurine manages to tear his mouth away from Veritas’s, but is quick to keep said mouth busy. His lips find Veritas’s neck, pressing hot and wet kisses down to the curve of Veritas’s shoulder. 

It was a simple action, but one that never failed to render Veritas hot and needy. He truly was being feasted on. Perhaps, had this been a different night, he would have really been able to witness Aventurine’s mouth at work. 

Satisfied with having felt Aventurine’s racing heart and ragged breathing, Veritas finally reaches down to Aventurine’s belt. Much like his own belt from before, the buckle is quickly undone. He doesn’t bother pulling it from its loops, however, instead opting to immediately begin working on the fly once he had the space to do so. 

Veritas was breathing heavily and shakily with each layer he pulled away from Aventurines crotch. He pulls Aventurine’s clothes away, but only enough to free Aventurine’s hard and leaking cock. The touch makes Aventurine breathe a hot and heavy breath over Veritas’s skin. 

“I thought you wanted me undressed?” Aventurine says slyly, trying to act coy despite the obvious way he had twitched and shivered. “You’re not even trying to get rid of my pants.” 

“I don’t need to.” Veritas starts to carefully stroke Aventurine’s cock in a slow, languid way. He leans in close to Aventurine's ear, pressing a soft kiss under it. “We both know you’re far too impatient for that right now.”

Of course, Aventurine only proves Veritas’s point as he finally starts to pull his boxer-briefs down. Between kisses to lips and skin, and with a few clumsy movements, they finally rid Veritas of his underwear and render him completely naked.

Aventurine is quick to drag Veritas by his hips. Veritas braces a hand on one of Aventurine’s shoulders, the other hand bracing on the top of the armchair's back. 

Aventurine leans forward to start laving his tongue over the expanse of Veritas’s chest and collarbones. He reaches down with one hand to take hold of his own length, making sure to line it up and keep it still for Veritas. 

The feeling of Aventurine filling him up, slowly and warmly, was familiar, but no less exhilarating. It was the kind of fill that stretched him just right - not enough to be painful in any way, but enough that it was snug and secure. 

Like he belonged there. Like they were made for one another. But Veritas didn’t want to entertain such romantic thoughts right now, and instead distracts himself with an experimental roll of his hips. 

The both of them let out shaky moans at the sensation. Veritas is also graced with the delightful sight of Aventurine’s eyes rolling back before fluttering closed. He really was well and truly riled up, and even though tonight's loss technically belonged to Veritas, Veritas planned to make good use of that fact regardless. 

Besides, were either of them truly losers in this moment? At the end of it all, they both still got exactly what they wanted. 

Aventurine was fair in that regard. He would never offer a deal that didn’t benefit every party. Of course, he always wanted to benefit himself first and foremost - his survival and comfort was paramount. 

But for nights like this, equal exchange was his priority. He knew better than to treat something like this with anything less than fairness, and Veritas was more than thankful for that. He was sure he would have never agreed to such an arrangement otherwise.

Aventurine’s mouth once again finds its way to Veritas’s neck, giving small experimental nips and bites. 

“You probably shouldn’t leave marks.” Veritas says breathlessly. Despite his minor complaints, he tilts his head to give Aventurine plenty of space for his lips and teeth to wander. 

“And if I did?” One of Aventurine’s arms loops around Veritas’s hip, his hand splaying out over the small of his back. 

“I would rather not deal with the questions.” Veritas grumbles, then rolls his hips down again, smiling at the way Aventurine gasps and jolts. 

He doesn’t give Aventurine time to settle down nor come up with some sort of retort. Instead, Veritas starts a steady pace, sighing as he feels the way Aventurine slides out, then back in, with perfect ease. 

“Mmf!-” Aventurine presses his face against Veritas’s skin, muffling the sudden noise that had escaped from his throat. His free hand, the one not keeping Veritas as close as humanly possible, gripped onto the arm of the armchair. 

“Even when you’re not around, you still have a habit of getting me into… precarious situations.” Veritas pants through gritted teeth. “Leaving marks… like some teenager…”

“Is it so bad that you make me feel young?” Aventurine’s voice is rough and breathless as he speaks. His face remains pressed against the crook of Veritas’s neck, breathing in his scent and warmth in heavy heaves. 

Veritas has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. There was something amusing about watching Aventurine cling to his coyness, even when his desperation and arousal were obvious. 

Aventurine never masked his enjoyment on nights like this. He would tease and poke and make plenty of comments that would grind Veritas’s gears to no end, but was never the type to act stoic in the face of pleasure. 

Veritas moves his hand from Aventurine’s shoulder to instead grip his jaw. He was almost rough with his movements, forcing Aventurine’s face away from his neck to instead crash their lips together. 

It was all teeth and tongue, broken with loud moans and gasps. It tasted of euphoria and mischief. And, it was a perfect way to ensure that Aventurine would not leave any pesky bruises on his neck.

For a long while, even as they gasp for air, Veritas refuses to loosen his grip on Aventurine’s jaw. Even as his hand shook when arousal started to burn his body hotter than a kiln, he kept his hold steady and firm. 

Aventurine didn’t seem to have any complaints, however. Judging by the wanton noises that spilled freely from his mouth between eager and wet kisses, and the way his hips bucked upwards to meet Veritas as he rode him, it was clear he was greatly enjoying himself.

This was how Veritas preferred him, so lost in the pleasure of it all that his brain couldn’t work to come up with anything snide to say. As much as Veritas was happy to indulge in some back-and-forth, it sometimes became hard to focus whenever Aventurine purposely tried to get on his nerves, even in the middle of sex. 

Aventurine’s drawn out moans and hitches in his breath were delightful to hear, and even more delightful for Veritas to feel against his mouth. Every huff of breath, every small vibration, was a sensation that Veritas eagerly took in. 

Though, even Veritas has his limits, and when he feels himself teetering on the edge of orgasm and struggling to keep up with his hungry kisses, he instead decides to press his forehead against Aventurine’s. 

Veritas mouth was hung open, his eyes closed as he feels himself fully slip under. His thighs tense and squeeze, a movement that renders his pace uneven and shaky. 

He curses under his breath when he feels Aventurine’s hands move down to his hips, gripping him tightly and starting to help him through the motions. After a few moments of Aventurine having the lead, a few short moments of them breathing one anothers air and holding on to one another as if separating would be a crime, Veritas is the first to fall apart. 

A deep and rich groan comes from Veritas’s throat. Any and all thoughts that had somehow still been present in his mind come to a screeching halt as a hot and pulsing sensation washes through his body. At this point, Aventurine was the one guiding his movements, as he found his legs too shaky to properly continue. 

It was always the case. His thighs always shook, his knees always became weak, and every time, Aventurine was more than happy to take hold of the reins.

Aventurine’s head tilts back, and he bites down on his bottom lip hard enough that it stung. As Veritas reaches bliss, squirming and moaning in all the most delicious ways, Aventurine is very quick to follow. 

With the both of them bathing in ecstasy, their movements well and truly begin to fall apart. Aventurine’s rhythm stutters and falters, and Veritas trembles. Veritas’s head drops down to Aventurine’s shoulder, and he can’t help but lean the majority of his weight onto the man below him. 

He hardly thinks it to be an issue, even less when Aventurine’s arms wrap around him and pull him close. For a few long moments, the two of them simply catch their breaths, dazed and tired from their escapade. 

Veritas felt sweaty, and of course, everything between his thighs felt sticky and wet. He could smell the slight musk of sweat from Aventurine as well, mingling with the luxurious scent of his cologne. 

Strangely enough, he felt comfortable there. Even with the sticky mess, his lightheadedness, and the ache that was starting to settle in his legs, Veritas felt content to simply lay for a moment, blissfully thoughtless, warm in someone's arms. 

He makes a small mumbling sound when he feels Aventurine press a kiss against the side of his head, somewhere in his hair.

“We should get cleaned up.” Aventurine mumbles his suggestion in return. “Want me to run a bath?” 

Just the thought of being able to rest his sore muscles in a hot bath had Veritas letting out a sigh. “That would be preferable, yes.” He replies, then swallows thickly when he realises how dry his throat had become. 

Their routine was simple. They get cleaned up, they sleep for the night, and Veritas departs in the morning. Nevermind the fact that their late-night cuddling and the helping of drying one another's hair was just a little too close and intimate for their current relationship - it was comforting to Veritas. Even if he was a little unsure just how deep or shallow Aventurine’s feelings on him ran, something he actively chose not to dwell on, there was still solace in the easy and familiar routine. 

He would enjoy their bath together. He would tolerate the small nips to his neck, even though he knew he would also follow it up with some sort of annoyed complaint about bruises. He would sleep peacefully tonight, and would leave his thoughts until a better time. 

He was unsure when that ‘better time’ would come around. What he was sure about, however, was that he would gladly accept any invitation from Aventurine to play another game of luck the next time he felt the itch.

Even if it meant falling into a poker trap and watching Aventurine win with a hand such as pocket kings again.