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Aventurine fell in love in an elevator going up. It was massively inconvenient and trite enough to make him want to crawl out of his skin, but it was the truth.
Ratio was kissing him, but that was incidental. It was far from the first time they'd kissed while on a mission and Aventurine had not fallen in love those other times.
The elevator stopped and they broke apart. When the doors opened a group of people flooded inside, the scents of sweat and perfume filling Aventurine’s nostrils, loud chatter echoing in his ears. The other hotel guests pressed against him in their rush to fit inside.
Ratio took hold of Aventurine's shoulders and pulled him back from the crush as the doors closed again.
Aventurine looked up at him. "Someone's eager to get their hands on me," he said in a low, teasing voice.
Ratio let go. "Did I hurt you?” he said. “Apologies."
The sarcastic response he'd prepared died in Aventurine's throat.
In Ratio's hotel room, the familiar way they fell into each other's arms pulled him out of his head. These were rhythms he knew.
Afterwards in the darkness he was staring at Ratio's back, strange new emotions threatening to set his head spinning. He suddenly wanted to be held. This being out of the realm of possibility, he instead rose from the bed, trying to stay silent.
Behind him, something moved. Aventurine turned and saw that Ratio's eyes were open. "Leaving?" he said.
"Just getting water," Aventurine said lightly. "Would you like a glass?"
Ratio shook his head.
After a moment Aventurine returned to the bed. Ratio was looking at his phone, the light of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow.
Aventurine angled his body towards Ratio, staring until Ratio finally looked up.
“What?” Ratio said flatly.
“We're both awake. Let's talk. Tell me something about yourself,” Aventurine said.
Stupid. Never ask for something without expecting something in return. Never reveal what you really want. At the time he had quickly recognized his own mistake but chalked it up to sleep deprivation.
Ratio sighed. “Like what?”
He sounded as if he couldn't care less. Aventurine realized he had nothing to worry about. Anyone else would seize the chance to barter with a Stoneheart for information, but Ratio was fundamentally disinterested in climbing the ladder— no, he was fundamentally disinterested in Aventurine. That disinterest was why their arrangement worked, and in fact why he was the only person Aventurine regularly took to bed, though he would frequently pretend otherwise to Ratio's face. It was easier that way.
“Hmmm,” Aventurine said, drawing out the sound. Might as well enjoy himself. “I want to know something you're bad at.”
Ratio tsked. “You sound like one of the student reporters knocking on my office door.”
“So the esteemed doctor isn't a patron of student journalism?”
“I don't mean the ones who are with the Veritas Prime student paper. Far too many are paid by tabloids to gather material for asinine puff pieces.”
“Ah, yes,” Aventurine said, delighted. “I often forget just how substantial your fan club is.”
Ratio scowled. “They would be better served focusing on their classes. As you would on more important things.”
“Well,” Aventurine pouted, “if you don’t want to answer—”
“I didn’t say that,” Ratio interrupted. After a moment he sighed and said, “Keeping pets.”
“Huh? Seriously?”
“I have little patience for irrational behavior. As you of course know, most animal lifeforms do not possess the same decision-making abilities as humanoids,” Ratio said reluctantly. “I'm consciously aware that it's ridiculous to expect a cat or dog to understand complex cause and effect, but subconsciously…”
Aventurine laughed. “That's actually not at all difficult to imagine.” When Ratio didn't say anything else, he wheedled, "Not going to ask for a fun fact about me?"
"Do you want me to?"
He did not. "Here's something: I'm a cuddler," he said. He wasn’t. Had never been. Yet now he sidled up to Ratio and clung to his arm, obnoxiously enough that he could pass it off as a joke if required.
"What you are is imprudent. And far too accustomed to taking what you want," Ratio said, but he didn't pull away. Instead he shifted to accommodate Aventurine.
Aventurine was almost dumbfounded that his greediness was being indulged. He could only chalk it up to luck. It was shameful to lie here like this as if they were lovers, shameful enough that his cheeks burned, but he couldn't bring himself to care, really. This was bad.
“Well, you'll be seeing a lot more of me soon,” Aventurine said lightly. “The start date for the Penacony project is almost upon us.”
“Ah, yes. I must admit, I'm looking forward to seeing how you'll pull that one off.”
“Counting on my victory?”
“You say it yourself, don't you?” Ratio closed his eyes. “You always win.”
Aventurine was an asset to the IPC, but Penacony was far more valuable than himself. This made perfect sense. Of course he couldn't compare to the whole of the Planet of Dreams. A Cornerstone from the body of Qlipoth themself was likewise an essential asset, but Aventurine was more important to the Company. A gem could be repaired, re-cut, and in the worst case replaced. Somebody like him, though, with his luck, and a strategic outlook which past performance reviews had admiringly described as “ruthless,” was not as easy to find. And who was more devoted to the Company than him? After all, he had given them everything he had.
Yes, he was worth more than a Cornerstone, despite what Diamond might say to keep up appearances, so it was inevitable that they would make a big show of admonishing him for the risks he'd taken before ultimately letting him off. It was simple math. Yet when he hadn't been demoted, he had not been able to stop himself from feeling surprised. Part of him really did always expect to lose.
Alone in a restaurant in Pier Point in the aftermath of his hearing, Aventurine tossed his newly repaired Cornerstone from one hand to another. He had rented out an entire floor on the spur of the moment to have his meal. He didn't particularly want to be bothered, and anyway, it suited his interests if rumors spread among business associates that the capricious Avgin Stoneheart was back to his old, indulgent self.
The gem in his hand glittered, unearthly. Aventurine found it rather dull despite its shine. He looked at the row of exquisitely-plated dishes in front of him and found that they held no appeal either.
In a week his leave would be over. He would probably be expected to throw some kind of extravagant party to mark his return to work and his contribution to the successful acquisition of Penacony. As it was, there was really only one person he wanted to share the news of his reinstatement with.
“I don’t understand,” Ratio had said shortly before the celebration on the Radiant Feldspar. “The IPC is far too callous with its employee's lives. And you— how could you be content with dying to further the Company's objectives, while simultaneously possessing such a strong desire to live that you escaped from the void of Nihility more-or-less unscathed?”
Aventurine thought it was funny. Simple math, yet Ratio seemed unable to comprehend it. And he was supposed to be the smart one.
Ratio had not even mentioned the note he'd left for Aventurine. Perhaps he thought Aventurine had forgotten all about it or dropped it somewhere in the Dreamscape. It wouldn’t be unlike him to understate his own contribution, despite his big-headedness.
What a puzzling contradiction. Ratio wasn't easy to understand, unlike his colleagues, who could be grouped into two main factions — those who were aghast by what they considered his near-blasphemous treatment of his Cornerstone, and those who were disgusted by his disregard for his own life.
Maybe unimpressed was a better word for the latter. The fact that he had a bit of a death wish was an open secret that Aventurine would probably be more ashamed of if he was capable of shame, and the others were used to his methods by now.
And, of course, there were the Stonehearts who were both aghast and unimpressed. On second thought, this group probably comprised the majority.
Another time, Ratio had said to him, “Let me ask you something, gambler. Do you fear death?”
Aventurine had smiled. “I couldn't make my gambles if I let something like that hold me back, could I?”
He had understood since he was a child that everyone died, no matter how much you loved them. He should regard death as a close friend, as a paramour. After all, he'd courted it many times.
Yet he had lied. Aventurine was terrified of dying.
Three more days of leave. There would, indeed, have to be a party once it was over. Aventurine left the finer details to his assistant, whose calls he had dutifully fielded over the past few days from the comfort of his apartment, answering questions about catering preferences and guest lists, as if any of it mattered. These things always went the same way: at least five junior employees reduced to tears, the dual heads of the Talent Acquisition Department engaging in yet another shouting match, Obsidian showing up halfway through and trying to poison everyone’s drinks… Aventurine had a headache just thinking about it.
Aventurine tossed his phone aside. He had been ignoring everyone else’s calls and texts, making up his mind to ask for forgiveness later. Right now all he wanted was to crawl back into bed. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his pajamas today. At least he had only woken up screaming once last night. The nightmares were certainly decreasing in frequency.
The doorbell rang.
Aventurine swore under his breath and wondered if he could get away with ignoring it. Unlikely, since the only people who bothered to visit him were affiliated with the Company. What, they couldn't even wait for his leave to officially be over before cornering him in his own home?
A voice crackled over the intercom. “Gambler,” someone said. “It's me.”
Aventurine thought he was imagining things for a moment. Finally he stood up slowly and approached the door. Indeed, that was Ratio on the video display, looking impatient.
Aventurine opened the door. It had not been a trick, Ratio was really there. “What are you doing here?” Aventurine said.
Ratio opened his mouth and shut it. He had a strange look on his face. “You weren't responding to my messages.”
“Well, I've been busy.”
“Yes, clearly,” Ratio said, looking at his pajamas with distaste. “There's something I need to tell you.”
“Can't it wait for three days?”
“It is unrelated to work, gambler. Are you going to let me in?”
Aventurine could only move aside and let Ratio brush past him into the apartment.
As soon as the door was closed he turned to Aventurine. “In truth,” Ratio said tightly, “I have transgressed.”
“Okay,” Aventurine said slowly. “Go on.” What an opener. He wondered if Ratio needed help burying a body, or, more practically, ejecting it into the far reaches of space. In that case he had definitely come to the right person.
Ratio turned away and began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. “I used my influence in an… improper manner. I— You weren't replying to texts. I had heard nothing of your condition since we departed from Penacony. I am not attempting to justify my actions, but rather provide context for—”
“Ratio, out with it,” Aventurine interrupted. “Are you saying this concerns me? What did you do?”
Ratio spun back around to face him. “I spoke with the Doctor of Chaos treating you and requested that they show me their notes.” He exhaled. “Perhaps it would be more accurate to say I demanded it.”
Aventurine waited, and then said, “Is that all?”
“I participated in a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality,” Ratio said slowly, like Aventurine was the one who didn't understand. “I broke an ethical code. Are you not angry?”
Aventurine was tired. “I don't really have the energy for this.”
“You should be angry,” Ratio said incredulously. “You should be furious with me. Why are you not furious with me?”
Aventurine stepped closer to Ratio. “Allow me to explain something to you. You're probably the last person to see those reports. That Doctor is a Company employee, after all. She delivers her notes to Diamond right after a session with me. Jade's probably seen them, too; she does so love to poke her nose into my business.”
“That… may be true, but I'm—”
“Different from them?” Aventurine laughed. “You take their money and follow their orders, Ratio, same as me and everyone else.”
Ratio scowled at him. “And does that mean you and I are absolved from blame when we err? We are accountable for our actions. We can— and should— hold ourselves to higher standards, no matter the paths we walk.”
“You're lecturing me? And getting upset with me for, what, not being upset?” Aventurine laughed again, but it came out choked. “Aeons, Ratio, all I want to know is why? Why did you do something like that? Why are you in my house?”
After a moment, Ratio said, “I don't know.”
Aventurine turned his face away and folded his arms. “This isn't the way these things are supposed to work, you know,” he said, fighting to keep his voice calm. “Between coworkers or… whatever we are. This — relationship we have, it isn't normal.”
The words hung heavily in the air between them.
"No, It isn't,” Ratio said finally. “I don't think I quite understand what it is."
“Is that so? I never thought there would be something beyond the doctor's realm of understanding."
He wanted Ratio to put his hands on him. That would be a suitable denouement. More natural and more sensible than whatever the hell this was, right now. Aeons knew it was the way several of their previous arguments had ended. But instead of doing that Ratio kept looking at him, and there was something in his expression that made Aventurine feel like his chest was being sliced open all over again.
"This would all be several times easier if we could learn to trust each other," Ratio had said in the early days of their partnership.
What a pretty ideal. To Aventurine it seemed idyllic and fleeting, like a butterfly in a glass cage, something for everyone to look at and admire until it bashed itself up against the walls and died. Trust wasn't anything beautiful or sacrosanct. It was giving someone a loaded gun and telling them where to hurt you.
He had done just that to Ratio when they'd first met. He was loath to admit that behind the bravado he'd brazenly displayed, some naive part of him really had wanted his gamble to result in something like that taking root between the two of them.
He really made himself sick. Maybe it would have been better if he'd never been loved — if his mother had abandoned him, if he'd never had a sister, if the Goddess hadn't gifted him her beautiful curse. Perhaps if he didn't know how it felt, he wouldn't long so pathetically for what was sure to hurt him, like a mongrel dog begging for scraps of poisoned food.
Ratio was still here. First he had asked Aventurine how long it had been since he had eaten, and then since he'd drank water. Next he’d examined the pills the Doctor of Chaos had synthesized for him, and it was all so annoying. Yet in lieu of telling Ratio to fuck off, Aventurine held his tongue. It was clear that Ratio wanted to assuage his guilt, and Aventurine supposed he was willing to let him try. As thanks for the note, if anything, even if they still hadn’t talked about that.
“I'm going to bed,” Aventurine announced.
“It's four in the afternoon,” Ratio said.
“I don't care. I'm going. You can leave. Or…” Aventurine knew it was a bad idea even before he said it. “You could join me.”
Ratio looked at him like he'd grown another head. “I'm not particularly in the mood right now.”
"Not like that. Just stay with me. Or am I that repulsive?” Before Ratio could retort, he added, unkindly, “You look like you need a nap, anyway.”
Ratio glared at him, but came to bed regardless.
In the bedroom, Aventurine flopped on his stomach onto the mattress and burrowed underneath the duvet. Pillows surrounded him on all sides. This was real peace.
“Poor sleeping posture,” Ratio said from outside his cocoon.
Aventurine poked his head up and looked at him. “I'm convalescing. I can sleep how I want.”
“I doubt burying yourself under all that weight helps with the nightmares.”
Ah, right. “Speaking of nightmares. I might…” He hesitated. “If I fall asleep—”
“I'll wake you up,” Ratio said.
Aventurine cocked his head. “You've read the notes. There's the screaming.”
“No matter.” Ratio looked down at the book he'd pulled out of some Imaginary pocket of space. He seemed irritatingly at home in Aventurine’s bed.
“Remarkably indulgent of you, doc.” Aventurine rolled onto his side. “This is going a little far, isn't it? Do you really feel that guilty? Or is this you doing your duty to a patient?”
Ratio put down the book and looked at Aventurine. “Understand something,” he said. To Aventurine's surprise, he took Aventurine’s hand in his own and squeezed it, hard. “And know that I'm only telling you this outright because you seem incapable of figuring it out on your own. There are very, very few others for whom I would do the things I do for you."
If Aventurine was being honest, if he was being good, he would tell Ratio to leave right there and then.
It was on the tip of his tongue. You see, I'm cursed. If we keep going this way, either I'm going to kill you, or you're going to be the thing that kills me.
But Aventurine was a liar. And for better or worse, he knew all about love. So he held Ratio's hand and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come.