[ The problem is that, unfortunately, he does want. He is filled with it, a desire that encompasses him and makes him want to collapse into the body of the man before him. It isn't fair, that after all the effort he put into destroying this emotion, the sickness cloying and vile inside of him, flowers staining the bathroom after he wakes up each morning. He had been prepared to give up on it all for the possibility of surviving into a better future, and now...
All his calculations, all his beliefs had been turned upside down, and he doesn't know how to cope with it at all.
Carefully, his arms wrap around Aventurine's waist, holding him gently. He can feel the coughs rise up inside of him, wanting to choke him, steal his words, but he breathes out a hoarse, shaky noise instead. Whatever he wants, Aventurine says, as though it is that simple, that easy, to give into it all and let himself feel that to begin with...
Leaning in, he touches their foreheads together. ]
Aventurine... This is a fool's choice. [ But their mouths are so close, and the taste of blood on his tongue has been foul for so long. ] You should not wish for it.
Not for the reasons that Ratio thinks, but because Aventurine isn't allowed to wish and want for things like this. To be loved and wanted in return is impossible -- it's why he'd been so certain that he hadn't wanted to be burdened by the fact he was in love with Aventurine. That he is, that the headaches and backtalk hasn't made him want to be rid of it is...
He wishes for it. It might make them both fools, but if he's allowed to have it, then he's going to have it and hold fast with both hands until it's torn from him or Ratio thinks twice about it. )
As someone who's turned down an invitation from the Fools themselves, I should think I'm well acquainted with what counts as foolishness. Moreso than the man who eschews the very concept of idiots. ( He breathes deep, steeling his nerves for what's to come. A hand clutched behind his back, fist tight to stop it from shaking. But the warmth of his hands on his waist, the brush of breath and the promise of finally, finally kissing whatever insult the other might levy at him is enough to push through. ) Ratio--
( And it's all he manages to say before Aventurine is kissing him, eagerly and with unmistakable desperation. This is what he wants, this is what he's going to have. Likely not forever, but for now.
Ratio is aware of it even as the lips press against his own, even as he draws Aventurine closer and tilts his own body into him, leaning down to slide their mouths together at a better angle. It's filled with desperation, of finally getting what has been wanted after months of yearning, of suffering alone with flowers burning his lungs and threatening to steal his life. He's ached for it, and he can feel that desire flare up inside of him, desperately and wantonly.
How is he meant to resist this, when he has wanted it for so long? Aventurine has brought so much colour to his dreams, filled him with an earnest desire that he had never felt before, enough to steal the life from his lips. The idea of rejecting this now fills him with an angst that he can't fathom, no logic supporting it. If he can have what he wants, why shouldn't he take it? Why should he not continue his selfish streak?
The sound he makes against Aventurine's mouth is needy, desperate, and he clings to him, pushing into the kiss and deepening it, all his walls torn down, his defences laid bare, desperate for what only this man can give him, almost shaking with his want and desire. ]
( Fuck. If Aventurine knew that Ratio was going to sound like this when he kissed him, he would have kissed the doctor months ago just to enjoy swallowing it. Hearing it, and his hands curl into the back of Ratio's suit -- to pull him closer that he can be flush against his chest.
Sure, he's standing on his toes, and that's going to be uncomfortable eventually. But for right now he's memorizing the way Ratio's lips feel against his, his tongue in his mouth, what and how much pressure causes Vertias Ratio to shake. He's indulging it, making it last as long as possible. Maybe he can lick some petals out of his mouth while he's at it, cure Ratio's stupid disease by loving him too hard in return.
Aeons.
He's really in it now, isn't he?
By the time he has to separate to breathe his cheeks are flushed, ruddy and splotchy. But there's a smile hovering around his lips all the same, and he hides whatever embarrassment he feels by pressing his face against Ratio's substantial chest. Who knew a scholar could be so... jacked. There's a huff of laughter, muffled, and Aventurine buries more into his chest. )
If I asked if you'd let me fuck you would you make me use three syllable words before you said yes?
[ This is more than he had ever permitted himself to dream of - because Ratio is not the kind of man to daydream, he is the kind of man who theorises, plans, considers. He does not get lost in idle fantasies, only permits himself to indulge in the thought of science and planning. To let his mind drift to thoughts of a gambling man, soft blond hair and a smile just for him... It would never have been permissible before.
The disease in his lungs had changed a great many things.
Longing for more kisses, desperate for more of the taste of Aventurine's tongue, the warmth of his body, the tilt of him as he lays heavily against Ratio's own, he groans softly when they pause to breathe. It's no lie to say that he has indulged in intercourse before, but he's never felt so needy for it, so wanting, feeling his body respond in a way that it so rarely does.
Tilting his head, he leans down to press his forehead against Aventurine's, licking his own lips. He does not imagine they will go further, even with the filth coming from the other man's mouth, and he could not blame him. It is not often that many men choose to continue relations with him, and he does not intend to let himself be harmed by another dismissal. Aventurine might claim to love him, but love and lust are not so often intertwined.
Rejection sensitive after coming so close to bliss, Ratio turns his head away, cheeks warm and expression tight, eyes dark and expression pinched with grief, a sharp contrast to the way that he was kissing the other man moments before. ]
Your eloquence and use of linguistics would not persuade me one way or the other, certainly not if you intended to use acquired knowledge for the sole purpose of fucking.
[ Not able to look him in the eye, Ratio swallows. ]
Permit me to inform you now, before you get too ahead of yourself. I was not born with all the parts that would... Define my sex, and - [ He grits his teeth. He expects to be turned away.
Another loss. ]
- I do not expect you to be desirous of it.
[ Taking Aventurine's hand and, because it is easiest, shoving it between his legs, where there is quite obviously... No penis. ]
( Ratio's struggle with both emotion and desire only makes Aventurine want to incite it in the other man more, to see what limit he can push him to that will make him forget to find embarrassment in anything the two of them could get up to together. )
What--
( His brows knit together in a moment of confusion before Ratio oh so graciously shows him, allowing his brain to catch up to the words. Oh. Well, that's not something he expected, but nor is Aventurine bothered by it. So Vertias Ratio has a cunt instead of a dick, it's not as if he has a mass of tentacles down there with teeth that could rip both his cock and his face to shreds if he tried anything. And even if he did, Aventurine would figure something out. He loves this idiotic man to destruction.
His hand moves lower, palm pressing assuredly against the apex of Ratio's thighs. )
Veritas. ( Rolling the name in his mouth, dragging it out as if it were the best thing he's ever said -- and it is, it really is. ) You keep making assumptions that make you look like one of your beloved idiots. Really, you should know better by now.
( And, because Aventurine has ever been one to push his luck: ) Come to think of it, considering I left all my lubrication ( He drags the word out, teasing. ) back at Pier Point, this makes things so much easier for the both of us.
[ The utter relief he feels shouldnโt be so heady, shouldnโt make him want more of this - the sly way Aventurine speaks, the way his hands grab at him, to touch himโฆ It makes him think of other things those fingers might do, the other things he could urge that delicious mouth into, and experienced or not thereโs no denying the way pleasure thrums at the idea of the man you love taking you.
Painful relief is stark against the irritating level of arousal he feels, flooding him a little.
Making him want and yearn.
There would be no logical way for him to ever think that Aventurine would want this, but heโs glad to be proven wrong for once. Glad that his calculations and endless knowledge somehow glossed over this reality, that a man so smitten with him (loved him?) might love him for all his pieces and not just parts.
Sighing softly, Ratio tilts his head back, prepared to sink into the moment whenโฆ It is, of course, ruined by Aventurine being himself. A typicality he shouldโve known to be aware of. ]
Must you taint each and every shared moments with debauchery and a foul tongue? A simple comment that it was inconsequential to you wouldโve proven enough to soothe my lingering concerns!
[ Irritated, annoyed, he grabs the front of Aventurineโs jacket and kisses him, all teeth and tongue and desire curled into one angry shape. ]
( His bout of laughter is cut off by Ratio's angry mouth; there is nothing he's discovering that he likes more than the delight of being shut up by being kissed by a man who loves him. Ratio, who puts up with him through all their missions, who waited three hours for him when Aventurine just wanted to see how long he would be there for, for the hope of his company. Passion is what he wants; be it gentleness or roughness -- as long as Ratio is consumed with it, he'll be satisfied.
If this is what being in love is like, of knowing what it feels like to have it returned, there is a part of him that mourns for what he never knew. He can recall the warmth of his sister, the words of his mother, but Ratio's affection burns away the parts of him that he's used to hide. Maybe, he thinks, maybe-- there's a chance for something real here, between them.
Something that he thought he'd forgotten, left behind on the bloody sands, left behind with the corpse of his 'master'.
Aventurine pushes, threading his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Ratio's neck, the hand other other hand had moved to his crotch remaining there -- palm and fingers pushing against the fabric, careful to catalogue any sort of reaction he can pull from him. One day he'll be able to make a guide to Ratio's body based on those alone, if he's given enough time, and he'll be able to play him like he can play any card game. )
You're the one that fell in love with me. ( He points out, the grin that graces his face wide enough to stretch his cheeks. Though he goes back to kissing kissing him in fast, furious pecks and recovering his own breath. ) You know what I'm like, Ratio. There's no take backs now.
( There is, but his heart wouldn't be able to take it. )
[ Love is not something rational, not something that can be put onto paper and graded, not something that he can wrap into a neat little box and tuck away aside - it's not something that can be studied with footnotes and bibliographies. Dr Veritas Ratio is a man that is smart, a height of intelligence that few across their world could ever hope to meet, but even he cannot wrap himself around the notion of romance and tenderness, the way his heart blooms (literally) in the wake of the way it has hit him like a weapon.
Aventurine, of all people. A man who is as irritating as he is coy, clever as he is foolish, using luck and skill to get what he wants where Ratio uses his mind and his connections. He seeks to rid the world of the pain of ignorance, wanting nothing more than to bring that to the world and see it heal, but it is not the same. He does not know how to unburden himself of it, how to handle this, not when he is wanted in return.
Distraction comes, and Ratio moans into the mouth against his own, shivering as he forces himself to try and stay strict and secure, to not let himself fall to pieces. ]
It is not as though I chose this course. [ It was stolen from him, ripped from him, forced upon him, in a way, but he has accepted it. It burns through him, and to have that reciprocated, to have that given to him in return... He breathes out a sharp noise, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
The fingers feel... Good. Bullied, and harsh, and he chokes a little noise as he covers his mouth. ] I could - simply leave. What would you be able to do in that instance?
[ Eyes closing, his fingers drop to wrap around Aventurine's wrist - not stopping him, just holding. Yearning. ]
( The words have Aventurine pause, though he's careful to note that roughness gets a far more enjoyable response from Ratio than he thought possible. Good to know, good to know--
But... the question.
It's a question that deserves an answer. The rawness of what escapes him threatens to pull down the walls he's built to keep himself safe, keep himself alive. He can't let them crumble -- he is still Aventurine, and he has a role to play and a job to do. But he can't offer Ratio much of anything else other than the truth when he deserves it of him. )
Nothing. I would let you. If that's what you wanted.
( There's something vulnerable, the specter of rejection hovering around Aventurine's features until Ration confirms that he won't. )
Though, after all this, I do reserve the right to drink myself comatose for an evening if that's your plan.
[ A difficult thing to admit, when his heart feels so weary - months of self-inflicted pain and torture, and for what? An outcome he could never have predicted, from a man as capricious as Ratio is desperate for the carnal pleasure of knowledge. Want and desire have been subservient to him for so long that the idea of giving into it is something that is impossible to manage, but at the same time...
It makes him thrum with pleasure. The fact that even something as simple as this tough could have him completely deconstructed, out of his element, is testament to how deeply his feelings run. A menacing feeling inside, that creeps through his bones and sinks into his lungs.
Leaning in, Ratio presses his forehead to Aventurine's, breathing out a soft noise, close to a wheeze. The intimacy of it has his hands shaking and his lungs aching, and that's more than enough for him to wish for more. ]
( Ratio is close enough, touching enough of him to feel the way Aventurine shakes until the words are out. Any vulnerability is hidden in his expression, but the other man knows him enough to know.
(And that scares Aventurine almost as much as the idea of his luck running out. People don't know him. They might be bribed with credits or smiles or promises on a big payoff later, but they don't know him. Ratio knows more than most, more than anyone has since he'd murdered his way to freedom.)
But he doesn't want Aventurine to go, and the shaky breath that he lets go he attempts to hide by kisisng Ratio again. Slower, this time, but no less desperate. He wants to map out every reaction, every sound, and if he's not going to go through with that idiotic surgery then Aventurine has time to do so.
His hands go up to cup Ratio's cheeks, thumbs running over impressive cheekbones as he tries to will himself not to shake apart. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he muses, he needs to regain some sort of upper hand so he can really drive home what a stupid idea ridding himself of love is. )
Do you want me to see if I can guess what is, doctor?
[ It is difficult to rationalise to himself the way that he feels, if only because he wonders how much of Aventurine he actually knows, trying to deduce if this is a game or a gamble, to ensure that Ratio remains as loyal as possible to the IPC. Cynical of him, perhaps, but he didn't earn what he had managed without a little questioning of a gift horse, as it were, and he doesn't want to fall into a trap.
All of this, however... It feels bitterly genuine, and he wishes to give into it, even as he feels himself getting warm and flustered, his irritation covered by the warmth on his face and the way his hands reach out to grip at the other man, to hold him as close as he can get himself to be. He wants this, yearns for it, even if it will result in pain in the end.
Like academia, truly. ]
You would attempt a gamble, even now? Nil point.
[ But he is leaning up, to press their mouths together more, desirous, rocking his hips forward a little absently, longing. Wanting. ]
( There are people Aventurine would sell out for another chance at a gamble, yes. There are times that he has used all available tools to him in order to get the job done, yes. There's no shame in that, to Aventurine -- all for the Amber Lord, after all. But there are some things, there is this thing that makes him feel greedy and selfish because it will be his and no one else's. He has money, he has a job he's good at, and now he'll have the chance to make the man he loves forget himself. He'd better not waste a single second of it.
And he would never use this fragile thing between them for the IPC. Aventurine doesn't know the right words to say that, to have it be an indisputable truth like Ratio loves. But he's sure of one thing: it is the truth.
Though it doesn't stop him from huffing a laugh against Ratio's lips, breaking into a smile he knows the other man can feel. )
What can I say? I'm incorrigible. ( Although-- ) You're not really going to score us having sex, are you?
( Aventurine's hands travel down to Ratio's hips, hooking in the belt loops and thanking the Goddess herself that the other man hasn't decided to wear that ridiculous outfit of his. It allows him to keep the man in place as he rolls his own hips forward, cock hard enough for Ratio to feel through the layers. )
Because if so, Doc, you better let me know what you're grading off of.
[ Ratio's heart feels too full, and he wonders how much of it is from affection and how much of it is from the flowers curling in his lungs and giving him breathing and respiratory issues as a result. Being this close to the person he is in love with must be having side effects, and he hasn't quite deduced whether those effects are positive or negative. He's still adjusting his theories with the new evidence. It feels as if he ought to be in a court of law, debating the realities.
He does not, though. Instead, he watches Aventurine with dark eyes, wanting to lift his legs to slide them around his waist, to rock into his body, to see if he can chase the sensation of a dick pressing against him, making him want more and more...
He breathes out instead, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to ignore the way he can picture that smile perfectly. ]
No. I do not have a rubric for the - the completion of sexual intercourse. I doubt many scholars intend to use it for any kind of assessment.
[ If they ever get close enough to being fucked for it to matter, of course.
He can feel it, Aventurine's cock, and he groans softly, low and a little hoarse. ]
I know you enjoy the sound of your own voice, but do you intend to continue?
( Aeons, there is nothing about Ratio that isn't intoxicating to Aventurine. Every sound he makes -- it just makes him want to press himself as close as possible, until Veritas can't think to separate himself from Aventurine. )
Only if you agree to never say "the completion of sexual intercourse" again.
( Aventurine huffs, trailing kisses down from Ratio's jaw to his neck, tugging down his collar just enough so that when he bites and sucks on the pale skin there to leave a mark, Ratio will at least be able to hide it. Aventurine isn't particularly possessive when it comes to leaving traces of himself across the skin of his partners, given what is permanently branded on his neck, but he wants to give the good doctor a reminder of the night that will last slightly longer.
After all, they have their own jobs, their own lives. They'll be apart for days soon enough. Aventurine won't ask Ratio to change that (and he wouldn't know what to do if Ratio asked him to, because why would he?) just for him. )
[ He has a PhD in medicine, he cannot be faulted for the way he speaks, even if he may be doing it with a touch of deliberation to it - wanting to irritate Aventurine just a little, to try and get him as riled up and filled with emotion as Ratio himself is. The fact that he can feel Aventurine's cock is not enough: he wants to see the other man break apart, want to see his desperation, to taste it on his mouth.
It has been months of longing. Has he not earned the right to permit himself something like this? To tease and press, to nudge, to see Aventurine's face twisted in irritation and pleasure?
Tilting his head to the side, he sighs softly, the pleasure obvious before he's reaching out and pushing the other man away. Stepping towards the bed, he begins to remove his clothing, tugging the layers off without pause. ]
Rid yourself of your clothing. Swiftly, if you please.
[ Yes, he wants to be fucked. No, he is not going to be polite about it. ]
( Aventurine can't help but laugh even as he finds himself apart from Ratio -- which is truly unfair. But they do have to strip if they're to get anywhere more than frotting. Don't get Aventurine wrong, there's nothing wrong with that; he'll gladly engage in a bit of it with Ratio later, but he does desperately want to get his hands on the doctor's bare skin. To commit every divot, every inch to memory.
He wants, more than anything, to see Ratio lose himself in Aventurine. To know that no matter what might come, he had this moment. To watch the other man finally show him what goes on in that head of his, to watch him blush and squirm.
And he can't do that very well dressed now, can he?
There's a deliberateness to the way he strips, setting jacket and then shirt aside with care -- they're expensive, and Aventurine isn't going to waste good tailoring on anything. Boots, shocks, and slacks follow quickly after. )
Mm, happy now?
( He teases, though he knows he's not fully naked yet. He's spent too long not touching Ratio, and turns to reach for him again. )
[ The laughter should grate at him, but it doesn't: it warms him instead. Ratio desires more of this, wanting to hear more of that softness without the twinge of thorn and flower piercing his lungs and making him want to throw himself off the edge of the nearest building. The notion of love being poisonous to kill is not unheard of in literary descriptions, but to experience it in reality is altogether a novelty he does not desire to repeat.
Instead, he settles down on the bed, naked and bare, flushed and wet, and tries to make himself comfortable without turning into some pornographic image from a fetish magazine - or worse. ]
Veritably.
[ Tilting his head, he shuffles back a little, pausing before he opens his arms out and allows Aventurine to be drawn close, tugging him down so that he might straddle his lap, almost petulant with the way he looks at him. ]
( No image in any magazine could capture how attractive Aventurine finds Ratio in this moment; the man he loves naked and waiting, wanting him? Aventurine lets himself settle over Ratio, one leg between his. For a long moment he just looks -- from Ratio's sunset eyes, the slight curl of his hair and his proud nose. All the way down to the doctor's well muscled arms and chest, and here Aventurine allows himself to touch, hands running over his pecs, brushing over his nipples with a sly grin, down his sides and then back up again. )
Let me have the moment, Doc. It's not every day I get to touch someone I love, you know.
( He grins, wild and a little lopsided -- perhaps one of the most honest and true smiles he's ever leveled at the other man. But he can't help himself; for once he feels... warm. Full of life. It'll fade, Aventurine's sure, but for now?
For now he's going to relish it. And that means kissing Ratio again until they have to break for breath, pushing his leg up against his cunt in a promise. )
[ Being stared at is not much of a novelty for Ratio - he is aware that he is handsome enough, that his appearance attracts the gaze because he is sculpted finely, not necessarily for what he would wish for. He wants to be appreciated for his intellect, for his wisdom, his mind, not for what he happened to turn out looking like, as if the work he has put in to be educated was for nothing.
When Aventurine stares at him, however...
It feels more worshipful, more intense, more loving, and that may be because it is. He lets the words drop so easily, as if confessions of romance and affection are simple to admit to, and Ratio can feel himself swallow, can feel himself lean back with a soft, pleased sigh, eyes closing. ]
I'll permit it, for now, on this singular occasion.
[ Especially when he can do this, shifting to rock his cunt against the curve of Aventurine's leg, rubbing himself and seeking out his pleasure, eyes closing. ]
Just this once? ( Because Aventurine will want to do this again. As often as Ratio is going to let him. He might not have the other man forever -- or, hell, even longer than this night -- but that doesn't change what he wants. His luck has never been this good before, this... genuine in its gifts. So he is going to milk it for all it's worth. ) Don't plan on it, Doc.
( He presses up with his leg again, matching Ratio's thrusts down with raising it up to rub against his cunt. Idly, he wonders if the other man could come from just this alone -- something to test. If not now, then... later. If his luck holds.
For now he ducks down again, kissing Ratio once more before working his way down his neck, nipping and biting as he does so. If Ratio does, for some reason, want to rip out his affection after all this, he's going to leave enough marks that he won't be able to just forget it.
You heard what I said. [ The embarrassment doesn't leave room for him to do much else, eyes dancing over the other man's face as he drinks him in. He wants more of this, but is not prepared to do anything like beg, not when he has a touch more dignity remaining inside of him. Instead, he tilts his head up and lets himself enjoy the kisses, the mouth he has been dreaming of for so long, wanting so desperately.
His hips continue to rock, grinding himself against Aventurine's leg, and maybe this ought to be more embarrassing than the desire to beg or ask for more, but at least he is getting pleasure from this. There is nothing wrong with seeking sexual release, and Ratio can feel himself shivering a little, pushing down on the warm skin to seek out his own orgasm.
There's certainly no way it will be so easy, but he deserves the attempt, if nothing else. The idea of Aventurine's hands touching him, pressing, sinking into him... That's a little more delicious, though. ]
( The impatience is cute, and Aventurine slides a hand down his chest -- fingers tracing every dip and divot in his muscles. Lazy, indulgent, taking the time do something right and make the man beneath him shake from want and desire. Ratio's stoicism is famed the universe over -- and Aventurine is the person who gets to take him apart, inch by inch. He presses a kiss over Ratio's heart, his hand dipping further down than he's used to with only a minor moment of confusion.
His fingers slip through Ratio's folds, though he does not go for his clit. Instead he teases, stroking the skin on either side of it once he's found it. Aeons, the other man is wet for him, and Aventurine bites down mentioning it for the moment to tease about another matter. )
[ It's not enough, not for a man who is more accustomed to touching himself than others - to the point, immediate, touching himself for the purpose of the release of endorphins and not because he is sharing his body with anyone else. The notion of being teased irritates him, and he scowls at Aventurine, above him, gambling with Ratio's body as well as he does in the real world. ]
I do not recall that being a necessity for intercourse.
[ Yes, he's going to keep saying it.
His body shifts, rocking forward, grinding against Aventurine and seeing out his pleasure. ]
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no subject
All his calculations, all his beliefs had been turned upside down, and he doesn't know how to cope with it at all.
Carefully, his arms wrap around Aventurine's waist, holding him gently. He can feel the coughs rise up inside of him, wanting to choke him, steal his words, but he breathes out a hoarse, shaky noise instead. Whatever he wants, Aventurine says, as though it is that simple, that easy, to give into it all and let himself feel that to begin with...
Leaning in, he touches their foreheads together. ]
Aventurine... This is a fool's choice. [ But their mouths are so close, and the taste of blood on his tongue has been foul for so long. ] You should not wish for it.
no subject
Not for the reasons that Ratio thinks, but because Aventurine isn't allowed to wish and want for things like this. To be loved and wanted in return is impossible -- it's why he'd been so certain that he hadn't wanted to be burdened by the fact he was in love with Aventurine. That he is, that the headaches and backtalk hasn't made him want to be rid of it is...
He wishes for it. It might make them both fools, but if he's allowed to have it, then he's going to have it and hold fast with both hands until it's torn from him or Ratio thinks twice about it. )
As someone who's turned down an invitation from the Fools themselves, I should think I'm well acquainted with what counts as foolishness. Moreso than the man who eschews the very concept of idiots. ( He breathes deep, steeling his nerves for what's to come. A hand clutched behind his back, fist tight to stop it from shaking. But the warmth of his hands on his waist, the brush of breath and the promise of finally, finally kissing whatever insult the other might levy at him is enough to push through. ) Ratio--
( And it's all he manages to say before Aventurine is kissing him, eagerly and with unmistakable desperation. This is what he wants, this is what he's going to have. Likely not forever, but for now.
Aventurine will be satisfied with that. )
no subject
[ This is not a good choice for either of them.
Ratio is aware of it even as the lips press against his own, even as he draws Aventurine closer and tilts his own body into him, leaning down to slide their mouths together at a better angle. It's filled with desperation, of finally getting what has been wanted after months of yearning, of suffering alone with flowers burning his lungs and threatening to steal his life. He's ached for it, and he can feel that desire flare up inside of him, desperately and wantonly.
How is he meant to resist this, when he has wanted it for so long? Aventurine has brought so much colour to his dreams, filled him with an earnest desire that he had never felt before, enough to steal the life from his lips. The idea of rejecting this now fills him with an angst that he can't fathom, no logic supporting it. If he can have what he wants, why shouldn't he take it? Why should he not continue his selfish streak?
The sound he makes against Aventurine's mouth is needy, desperate, and he clings to him, pushing into the kiss and deepening it, all his walls torn down, his defences laid bare, desperate for what only this man can give him, almost shaking with his want and desire. ]
no subject
Sure, he's standing on his toes, and that's going to be uncomfortable eventually. But for right now he's memorizing the way Ratio's lips feel against his, his tongue in his mouth, what and how much pressure causes Vertias Ratio to shake. He's indulging it, making it last as long as possible. Maybe he can lick some petals out of his mouth while he's at it, cure Ratio's stupid disease by loving him too hard in return.
Aeons.
He's really in it now, isn't he?
By the time he has to separate to breathe his cheeks are flushed, ruddy and splotchy. But there's a smile hovering around his lips all the same, and he hides whatever embarrassment he feels by pressing his face against Ratio's substantial chest. Who knew a scholar could be so... jacked. There's a huff of laughter, muffled, and Aventurine buries more into his chest. )
If I asked if you'd let me fuck you would you make me use three syllable words before you said yes?
no subject
The disease in his lungs had changed a great many things.
Longing for more kisses, desperate for more of the taste of Aventurine's tongue, the warmth of his body, the tilt of him as he lays heavily against Ratio's own, he groans softly when they pause to breathe. It's no lie to say that he has indulged in intercourse before, but he's never felt so needy for it, so wanting, feeling his body respond in a way that it so rarely does.
Tilting his head, he leans down to press his forehead against Aventurine's, licking his own lips. He does not imagine they will go further, even with the filth coming from the other man's mouth, and he could not blame him. It is not often that many men choose to continue relations with him, and he does not intend to let himself be harmed by another dismissal. Aventurine might claim to love him, but love and lust are not so often intertwined.
Rejection sensitive after coming so close to bliss, Ratio turns his head away, cheeks warm and expression tight, eyes dark and expression pinched with grief, a sharp contrast to the way that he was kissing the other man moments before. ]
Your eloquence and use of linguistics would not persuade me one way or the other, certainly not if you intended to use acquired knowledge for the sole purpose of fucking.
[ Not able to look him in the eye, Ratio swallows. ]
Permit me to inform you now, before you get too ahead of yourself. I was not born with all the parts that would... Define my sex, and - [ He grits his teeth. He expects to be turned away.
Another loss. ]
- I do not expect you to be desirous of it.
[ Taking Aventurine's hand and, because it is easiest, shoving it between his legs, where there is quite obviously... No penis. ]
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What--
( His brows knit together in a moment of confusion before Ratio oh so graciously shows him, allowing his brain to catch up to the words. Oh. Well, that's not something he expected, but nor is Aventurine bothered by it. So Vertias Ratio has a cunt instead of a dick, it's not as if he has a mass of tentacles down there with teeth that could rip both his cock and his face to shreds if he tried anything. And even if he did, Aventurine would figure something out. He loves this idiotic man to destruction.
His hand moves lower, palm pressing assuredly against the apex of Ratio's thighs. )
Veritas. ( Rolling the name in his mouth, dragging it out as if it were the best thing he's ever said -- and it is, it really is. ) You keep making assumptions that make you look like one of your beloved idiots. Really, you should know better by now.
( And, because Aventurine has ever been one to push his luck: ) Come to think of it, considering I left all my lubrication ( He drags the word out, teasing. ) back at Pier Point, this makes things so much easier for the both of us.
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Painful relief is stark against the irritating level of arousal he feels, flooding him a little.
Making him want and yearn.
There would be no logical way for him to ever think that Aventurine would want this, but heโs glad to be proven wrong for once. Glad that his calculations and endless knowledge somehow glossed over this reality, that a man so smitten with him (loved him?) might love him for all his pieces and not just parts.
Sighing softly, Ratio tilts his head back, prepared to sink into the moment whenโฆ It is, of course, ruined by Aventurine being himself. A typicality he shouldโve known to be aware of. ]
Must you taint each and every shared moments with debauchery and a foul tongue? A simple comment that it was inconsequential to you wouldโve proven enough to soothe my lingering concerns!
[ Irritated, annoyed, he grabs the front of Aventurineโs jacket and kisses him, all teeth and tongue and desire curled into one angry shape. ]
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If this is what being in love is like, of knowing what it feels like to have it returned, there is a part of him that mourns for what he never knew. He can recall the warmth of his sister, the words of his mother, but Ratio's affection burns away the parts of him that he's used to hide. Maybe, he thinks, maybe-- there's a chance for something real here, between them.
Something that he thought he'd forgotten, left behind on the bloody sands, left behind with the corpse of his 'master'.
Aventurine pushes, threading his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Ratio's neck, the hand other other hand had moved to his crotch remaining there -- palm and fingers pushing against the fabric, careful to catalogue any sort of reaction he can pull from him. One day he'll be able to make a guide to Ratio's body based on those alone, if he's given enough time, and he'll be able to play him like he can play any card game. )
You're the one that fell in love with me. ( He points out, the grin that graces his face wide enough to stretch his cheeks. Though he goes back to kissing kissing him in fast, furious pecks and recovering his own breath. ) You know what I'm like, Ratio. There's no take backs now.
( There is, but his heart wouldn't be able to take it. )
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Aventurine, of all people. A man who is as irritating as he is coy, clever as he is foolish, using luck and skill to get what he wants where Ratio uses his mind and his connections. He seeks to rid the world of the pain of ignorance, wanting nothing more than to bring that to the world and see it heal, but it is not the same. He does not know how to unburden himself of it, how to handle this, not when he is wanted in return.
Distraction comes, and Ratio moans into the mouth against his own, shivering as he forces himself to try and stay strict and secure, to not let himself fall to pieces. ]
It is not as though I chose this course. [ It was stolen from him, ripped from him, forced upon him, in a way, but he has accepted it. It burns through him, and to have that reciprocated, to have that given to him in return... He breathes out a sharp noise, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
The fingers feel... Good. Bullied, and harsh, and he chokes a little noise as he covers his mouth. ] I could - simply leave. What would you be able to do in that instance?
[ Eyes closing, his fingers drop to wrap around Aventurine's wrist - not stopping him, just holding. Yearning. ]
But I will not.
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But... the question.
It's a question that deserves an answer. The rawness of what escapes him threatens to pull down the walls he's built to keep himself safe, keep himself alive. He can't let them crumble -- he is still Aventurine, and he has a role to play and a job to do. But he can't offer Ratio much of anything else other than the truth when he deserves it of him. )
Nothing. I would let you. If that's what you wanted.
( There's something vulnerable, the specter of rejection hovering around Aventurine's features until Ration confirms that he won't. )
Though, after all this, I do reserve the right to drink myself comatose for an evening if that's your plan.
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[ A difficult thing to admit, when his heart feels so weary - months of self-inflicted pain and torture, and for what? An outcome he could never have predicted, from a man as capricious as Ratio is desperate for the carnal pleasure of knowledge. Want and desire have been subservient to him for so long that the idea of giving into it is something that is impossible to manage, but at the same time...
It makes him thrum with pleasure. The fact that even something as simple as this tough could have him completely deconstructed, out of his element, is testament to how deeply his feelings run. A menacing feeling inside, that creeps through his bones and sinks into his lungs.
Leaning in, Ratio presses his forehead to Aventurine's, breathing out a soft noise, close to a wheeze. The intimacy of it has his hands shaking and his lungs aching, and that's more than enough for him to wish for more. ]
Don't leave. That is not my desire.
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(And that scares Aventurine almost as much as the idea of his luck running out. People don't know him. They might be bribed with credits or smiles or promises on a big payoff later, but they don't know him. Ratio knows more than most, more than anyone has since he'd murdered his way to freedom.)
But he doesn't want Aventurine to go, and the shaky breath that he lets go he attempts to hide by kisisng Ratio again. Slower, this time, but no less desperate. He wants to map out every reaction, every sound, and if he's not going to go through with that idiotic surgery then Aventurine has time to do so.
His hands go up to cup Ratio's cheeks, thumbs running over impressive cheekbones as he tries to will himself not to shake apart. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he muses, he needs to regain some sort of upper hand so he can really drive home what a stupid idea ridding himself of love is. )
Do you want me to see if I can guess what is, doctor?
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All of this, however... It feels bitterly genuine, and he wishes to give into it, even as he feels himself getting warm and flustered, his irritation covered by the warmth on his face and the way his hands reach out to grip at the other man, to hold him as close as he can get himself to be. He wants this, yearns for it, even if it will result in pain in the end.
Like academia, truly. ]
You would attempt a gamble, even now? Nil point.
[ But he is leaning up, to press their mouths together more, desirous, rocking his hips forward a little absently, longing. Wanting. ]
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And he would never use this fragile thing between them for the IPC. Aventurine doesn't know the right words to say that, to have it be an indisputable truth like Ratio loves. But he's sure of one thing: it is the truth.
Though it doesn't stop him from huffing a laugh against Ratio's lips, breaking into a smile he knows the other man can feel. )
What can I say? I'm incorrigible. ( Although-- ) You're not really going to score us having sex, are you?
( Aventurine's hands travel down to Ratio's hips, hooking in the belt loops and thanking the Goddess herself that the other man hasn't decided to wear that ridiculous outfit of his. It allows him to keep the man in place as he rolls his own hips forward, cock hard enough for Ratio to feel through the layers. )
Because if so, Doc, you better let me know what you're grading off of.
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He does not, though. Instead, he watches Aventurine with dark eyes, wanting to lift his legs to slide them around his waist, to rock into his body, to see if he can chase the sensation of a dick pressing against him, making him want more and more...
He breathes out instead, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to ignore the way he can picture that smile perfectly. ]
No. I do not have a rubric for the - the completion of sexual intercourse. I doubt many scholars intend to use it for any kind of assessment.
[ If they ever get close enough to being fucked for it to matter, of course.
He can feel it, Aventurine's cock, and he groans softly, low and a little hoarse. ]
I know you enjoy the sound of your own voice, but do you intend to continue?
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Only if you agree to never say "the completion of sexual intercourse" again.
( Aventurine huffs, trailing kisses down from Ratio's jaw to his neck, tugging down his collar just enough so that when he bites and sucks on the pale skin there to leave a mark, Ratio will at least be able to hide it. Aventurine isn't particularly possessive when it comes to leaving traces of himself across the skin of his partners, given what is permanently branded on his neck, but he wants to give the good doctor a reminder of the night that will last slightly longer.
After all, they have their own jobs, their own lives. They'll be apart for days soon enough. Aventurine won't ask Ratio to change that (and he wouldn't know what to do if Ratio asked him to, because why would he?) just for him. )
C'mon, Doc. Let me take you to bed and fuck you.
( See? Much better. )
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[ He has a PhD in medicine, he cannot be faulted for the way he speaks, even if he may be doing it with a touch of deliberation to it - wanting to irritate Aventurine just a little, to try and get him as riled up and filled with emotion as Ratio himself is. The fact that he can feel Aventurine's cock is not enough: he wants to see the other man break apart, want to see his desperation, to taste it on his mouth.
It has been months of longing. Has he not earned the right to permit himself something like this? To tease and press, to nudge, to see Aventurine's face twisted in irritation and pleasure?
Tilting his head to the side, he sighs softly, the pleasure obvious before he's reaching out and pushing the other man away. Stepping towards the bed, he begins to remove his clothing, tugging the layers off without pause. ]
Rid yourself of your clothing. Swiftly, if you please.
[ Yes, he wants to be fucked. No, he is not going to be polite about it. ]
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He wants, more than anything, to see Ratio lose himself in Aventurine. To know that no matter what might come, he had this moment. To watch the other man finally show him what goes on in that head of his, to watch him blush and squirm.
And he can't do that very well dressed now, can he?
There's a deliberateness to the way he strips, setting jacket and then shirt aside with care -- they're expensive, and Aventurine isn't going to waste good tailoring on anything. Boots, shocks, and slacks follow quickly after. )
Mm, happy now?
( He teases, though he knows he's not fully naked yet. He's spent too long not touching Ratio, and turns to reach for him again. )
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Instead, he settles down on the bed, naked and bare, flushed and wet, and tries to make himself comfortable without turning into some pornographic image from a fetish magazine - or worse. ]
Veritably.
[ Tilting his head, he shuffles back a little, pausing before he opens his arms out and allows Aventurine to be drawn close, tugging him down so that he might straddle his lap, almost petulant with the way he looks at him. ]
Not it is not yet full points.
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Let me have the moment, Doc. It's not every day I get to touch someone I love, you know.
( He grins, wild and a little lopsided -- perhaps one of the most honest and true smiles he's ever leveled at the other man. But he can't help himself; for once he feels... warm. Full of life. It'll fade, Aventurine's sure, but for now?
For now he's going to relish it. And that means kissing Ratio again until they have to break for breath, pushing his leg up against his cunt in a promise. )
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When Aventurine stares at him, however...
It feels more worshipful, more intense, more loving, and that may be because it is. He lets the words drop so easily, as if confessions of romance and affection are simple to admit to, and Ratio can feel himself swallow, can feel himself lean back with a soft, pleased sigh, eyes closing. ]
I'll permit it, for now, on this singular occasion.
[ Especially when he can do this, shifting to rock his cunt against the curve of Aventurine's leg, rubbing himself and seeking out his pleasure, eyes closing. ]
Do not stop.
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( He presses up with his leg again, matching Ratio's thrusts down with raising it up to rub against his cunt. Idly, he wonders if the other man could come from just this alone -- something to test. If not now, then... later. If his luck holds.
For now he ducks down again, kissing Ratio once more before working his way down his neck, nipping and biting as he does so. If Ratio does, for some reason, want to rip out his affection after all this, he's going to leave enough marks that he won't be able to just forget it.
Which-- )
Hey, Ratio?
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His hips continue to rock, grinding himself against Aventurine's leg, and maybe this ought to be more embarrassing than the desire to beg or ask for more, but at least he is getting pleasure from this. There is nothing wrong with seeking sexual release, and Ratio can feel himself shivering a little, pushing down on the warm skin to seek out his own orgasm.
There's certainly no way it will be so easy, but he deserves the attempt, if nothing else. The idea of Aventurine's hands touching him, pressing, sinking into him... That's a little more delicious, though. ]
Hn... What now?
[ Can't they just have sex already? ]
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His fingers slip through Ratio's folds, though he does not go for his clit. Instead he teases, stroking the skin on either side of it once he's found it. Aeons, the other man is wet for him, and Aventurine bites down mentioning it for the moment to tease about another matter. )
I just realized. You haven't confessed, have you?
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I do not recall that being a necessity for intercourse.
[ Yes, he's going to keep saying it.
His body shifts, rocking forward, grinding against Aventurine and seeing out his pleasure. ]
Come on, gambler. Touch me.
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