Work Text:
The golden light of the sun spills in through the window of Sugilite’s apartment in Pier Point. The rays glint off of the accumulated trinkets on the windowsill. Aventurine watches as they glimmer and glow; sparkling along the curtains neither of them had any time to close the night before, and too exhausted to get up and do so by the time Sugilite rolled onto his side of the bed for the night.
At some point, Aventurine had awoken in a cold sweat, biting the flesh of his hand to muffle the pitiful sobs trying to escape from his throat due to the guilt of his relief as the blood stained those iron chains crimson. Luck has always been on his side, after all, so there truly was no other outcome, but why did there always have to be an innocent victim who paid the price? Or, in that case, thirty-four innocent victims — but what is done cannot be undone, and there is no place to go except miserably forward through each day, hoping only for a little peace and quiet in the day ahead, even if it was fleeting.
After that, Aventurine slept fitfully, eventually walking to the chirping of birds and the glittering dawn. A new dawn; a new day on the horizon, yet nothing felt different. Just another day wading through the pool of ghosts in his own mind, threatening to drag him down with them. A steady exhale through his nose, and suddenly, he was turning on his side to face a steadily waking Sugilite, eyes heavy with the blessing of peaceful rest.
A smile graced his face, a hand reaching out to thread through blond hair, clearing it away from Aventurine’s face. The touch grounded Aventurine more than he cared to admit — especially now — but he closed his eyes as he leaned into it, letting Sugilite play with his hair as his fingers began to caress the locks gently.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Sugilite rasped, “sleep well?”
No .
The truthful answer; the answer that would likely be brushed off as mere difficulty sleeping in the night and hope for a better one in the night ahead — dismissive, and uncaring, but in the hazy clouds of his restless mind, Aventurine didn’t think much of it then; not while Sugilite’s fingers threaded through blond strands, playing with the soft hair behind his ear, appreciating the gilded glow haloing Aventurine’s head, framing pretty eyes, alight with a slight glimmer of anxiety.
“I want to…” Aventurine began, instead of answering. Sugilite raised both eyebrows at him, fingers stopping in their tracks. He cut himself off, glancing down at the space between them under the covers, pulling them further over his shoulder. There are some risks not worth taking, and Aventurine does not want to be more selfish than he already is; the request is not of any benefit to Sugilite at all, except perhaps the possibility of climax and the promise of stress relief from his workload, but the true purpose of Aventurine’s request is only to relieve some of his own suffering; constant, and plaguing — yet not enough of a reason to impose on someone else.
“You want to…?” Sugilite goads, brushing a lock of hair behind Aventurine’s ear to stroke at the soft bone there; a sensitive space he made sure to make good use of in more ways than one. His fingers didn’t linger, however, the brush only lasted long enough to cause Aventurine’s fingers to jerk slightly.
“Never mind,” Aventurine mumbled, “it’s nothing.”
A light chuckle from above, fingers grazing his cheek to rest under his chin, tilting his head upwards. Aventurine keeps his gaze down at the sheets, the familiar and gut-wrenching twist of shame trickling down into his bones to rest there, knowing he shouldn’t ask for anything; not unless the benefit is equal to or outweighs the cost, and what benefit does Sugilite get?
A high risk with a high benefit; a gamble usually worth taking when Aventurine is risking his own skin, but someone else’s is too high of a price to pay.
“Is that so?” Sugilite asked, a pinch of amusement in his voice, along with a pinch of something else that, at the time, Aventurine didn’t want to acknowledge but now knew it sounded like mockery. “Then, why aren’t you looking at me?”
A huff escaped his lips as he slowly lifted his eyes to face Sugilite, a smile dancing on his lips to match the curious mirth in his eyes.
“I wanted to… ask if I could…” His gaze found its way downward again as Sugilite raised one eyebrow further, scanning the void beneath them, before finding its way back up to the man above him, resting anxiously on his as he uttered his final words, “do something for you.”
Removing his fingers from his hair, Sugilite rolled onto his side to look at something, leaving Aventurine to press his lips together. It lasted only a second, however, until Sugilite rolled back with a smile that seemed warm and inviting, pulling Aventurine closer to him as one hand caressed his side, crawling up his sleep shirt to rest at his waist, drawing circles into the skin.
“Aren’t you a sweet kitten? What is it?”
“I wanted to —” Aventurine began before cutting himself off again, feeling a heat spread around his ears, burning at the tips before he forced himself to continue; there was no going back now — it was all or nothing. “You said you were getting a lot of work. I wanted to ask if I could… warm your cock, while you were busy, but if…”
He trailed off, not allowing himself to speak further when Sugilite blinked down at him. The silence felt like it stretched on forever. Perhaps the risk truly was too high for Sugilite to risk his own position during work hours by engaging in illicit activities with a fellow Stoneheart. Opening his mouth to apologise, Aventurine was soon hushed with a searing kiss, an unintentional soft, surprised moan escaping his lips as Sugilite’s hand began caressing his waist in a joke of a loving gesture, grinning as he pulled back.
“Of course you can, kitten.”
It’s how Aventurine ended up here; on his knees, tucked underneath Sugilite’s desk, his nose inhaling the strong scent of pine mixed with expensive aftershave from the closeness of his nose to Sugilite’s body, his cock heavy in his mouth as his eyes close in serenity, focusing on the task at hand, moving his head languidly along the length of it. He takes a moment to suck lightly at the tip, a quiet squelch following as he pulls off for breath before taking the mass in his mouth again, pushing his head down to take the entire length inside, his gag reflex long since trained out of his throat.
From there, he began to bob his head gently. Gloved fingers found their way into his hair, stroking through the strands as he worked. The cock in his mouth and hand in his hair, petting him gently, made it hard to think about anything else. The touch was appraising in hindsight, but the bliss of a quietened mind filled with hazy lust that was making his insides clench at the thought of being fucked into exhaustion that would make dreams impossible did not grant him the brainpower to realise it at the time.
Tilting his chin up gently from where his cock was buried inside Aventurine’s mouth, Sugilite brought his cyan-coral gaze to his face, a smile hiding madness on his face as he laughed lowly, stroking his other hand across the arch of Aventurine’s cheek, continuing to push blond hair back for a better look at the pretty face with desire and pleading behind the pretty eyes.
“Enjoying yourself, kitten?” Sugilite asks through his pleased mirth.
There are nights where sleep does not grace Aventurine; an ever elusive condition for his brain vainly tries to escape the images behind his eyes. A dreamless, soundless night is the perfect goal, especially when he bites hard into his hand through his already quiet tears on the worst nights, trying not to wake the sleeping body beside him, white hair spread over the other pillow and a contented expression in his sleep.
Perhaps, there is a benefit, Aventurine thinks, for Sugilite after all in that Aventurine’s dreamless sleep will allow him to rest through the night, and he does not need to wonder or worry about being woken in the middle of the night when he inevitably is. Not that he ever did. It was only Aventurine who worried about such things, only ever Aventurine who worried about them, even with a cock in his mouth that was supposed to be distracting him.
Refocusing his attention, Aventurine doubled his efforts, sliding the mass further down until he could almost feel it resting in his throat, nose buried into the soft hairs at the base. Closing his eyes, he rested there, focusing on keeping his cheeks hollowed, breathing through his nose, and his teeth off. The distraction was enough as his attention rested on the repetition of cheeks, nose, teeth in his mind, clearing away the debris of anything else that clung to his brain. It felt like it all fell away, resting on the ground, likely to be picked up another day, but for now, he welcomed the reprieve as he felt the weight of Sugilite’s cock on his tongue, lazily bobbing his head as his tongue swirled languidly around it.
It didn’t last for long, however, when he heard the tell-tale click of high heels outside of Sugilite’s office door, an elegant, dainty knock following. Stopping, Aventurine sat with wide eyes. There was always the risk; the gamble — the idea someone would find them like this , and that would be just fine if it was only Aventurine’s reputation on the line, but he had no right nor reason to bring Sugilite down with him.
“Come in,” Sugilite responds, his voice betraying no emotion. The door clicks open softly. Fingers find their way inside blond tresses, pushing him slightly forward; a silent demand for him to keep going. That’s right. He asked for this, didn’t he? He should keep going. All he had to do was stay quiet, and that was easy enough when he already knew how to silence his tongue.
As he continued to lightly bob his head, he heard the tell-tale click of high heels, as well as the rustling of papers. Aventurine had long since attuned his ears to Jade’s approach, flashing her his signature winsome smile, donning his frivolous airs; the character of Aventurine , and he wasn’t about to undo his hard work now — even as it seemed Sugilite got bigger inside of his mouth that was already struggling to accommodate him, small as it was.
Stiffening, though not stopping; stifling his tongue, though ensuring he did not forget to breathe, Aventurine peered up through his lashes only to see a file being handed to Sugilite. Aventurine couldn’t see its contents, but he could hear the dainty shuffle behind it. The murmuring above definitely belonged to Jade, though Aventurine could barely hear any of what she was saying, once again focusing on the cock in his mouth as he continued, the fingers in his hair caressing him gently.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He wanted to stop. He didn’t want to do this anymore… but he had asked for this, so why would he stop? He wanted this, so why didn’t he want to anymore? It was helping him, truly, to relax… even if it was only for a moment, and didn’t he want to relax? Isn’t that why he asked? How truly, truly selfish to be the one who played his hand first and then tried to back away from the table. Forcing the thoughts out of his head, he closed his eyes as he attempted to refocus. Swallowing around it, Aventurine gently bobbed his head, willing his growing nervousness down.
Eventually, the high heels clicked away, the door closing softly behind him. Sugilite’s fingers brush underneath his chin, picking up his gaze to peer at him through tear-stained lashes, to be met with a grin on his face that Aventurine now could only describe as gleeful. Gleeful over what, Aventurine knew, but did not want to say out loud; only in his head could he admit it — having taken Jade’s precious, cut gem all to himself, situated on his knees under his desk, worshipping his cock while Jade was none the wiser.
“ Good boy ,” he whispered.
Aventurine exhaled, closing his eyes.
He doesn’t know how many times he’s found himself doing this again, regardless, and for his own sanity, he didn’t dare count.
Peeling his arm from his eyes, Aventurine twisted on to his stomach in the bed. The sounds of the night pulled him from his sleep first, though the lack of desire to relive that particular memory did its job, too. Sighing, Aventurine inspected his pillow with his hands; a notable lack of sweat, though to be fair the dream itself was not exactly dangerous in nature as it was a questionable life choice Aventurine found himself deeply regretting in the days after their little affair was over. He supposed he could just be grateful it hadn’t been worse; little less like a nightmare, and more like a bad dream.
The cat cakes opened their sleepy eyes from where they were at the bottom of the bed as he swung his legs over, pulling his slippers on. Trudging into the kitchen and wiping the sleep from his eyes, Aventurine retrieved a glass, sleepily filling it with cold water. Returning to bed, he found the cat cakes had fallen back asleep, resting on top of the legs of the man he had been beside moments earlier. Fast asleep, violet hair fanned out over the pillow, the cat cakes happily snuggled in at his legs.
A smile tugs on Aventurine’s lips at the sight as he climbs back into the bed. Blearily blinking awake, the lump next to him peers up at him as he sips his water. A muscular arm finds its way around his torso, sunrise-like eyes peering up at him in a sleepy haze. Aventurine’s hand lands on Veritas’ forearm, his fingers tentatively curling around his arm.
“Another nightmare?” Veritas rasps, voice thick and heavy with sleep. The cat cakes sleepily slide off his legs, onto the space between. One tumbles over slightly, immediately rudely awoken, soon shuffling into Aventurine’s arms immediately for comfort.
“Just a bad dream,” Aventurine replies in a whisper, patting the shell of the little critter that wandered into his space. His other hand clears the hair from Veritas’ face as an intense stare finds its way onto his face, handsome features scrutinising him, but his lack of a demand for Veritas to return to his slumber and an easy admittance as well as being more shaken than disturbed allows Veritas to deduce he is not, in fact, masking his distress.
This did not, however, stop him from snuggling in closer.
Setting the glass aside, as well as the critter, Aventurine decided to forgo the sheets for the night, given Veritas radiated enough heat to power the backup generator in the Strategic Investment Department alone, but he did pull himself in closer, the warmth and weight of Veritas providing a grounding comfort more than he would care to admit to anyone, let alone himself.
Veritas’ arm wrapped around his back, tucking his head under his chin. Peering up at the sleeping form through his lashes, Aventurine huffed contentedly, unable to stop the smile on his face. It was a far cry from Penacony, even if it were only an act on the doctor’s behalf, but Aventurine had been more than happy to let his sad tale drift off into the wind in the tatters to be forgotten if he could only get another day with his family; with people who loved him, and wouldn’t cast him aside, or use him for their own gains. They would embrace him, mama would stroke his hair, and they would tell him he was safe now .
Veritas does that for him instead now, whenever he wakes from a particularly unpleasant dream, or just when he’s unable to hide the fact he’s feeling upset. He will always miss his family, and the nightmares born of his own guilt and regret never cease, but it’s easier, and better, to know he doesn’t have to trudge through life, miserable and alone, constantly under the threat of being pulled down by the ghosts that haunt him. He can hide in the safety of Veritas’ arms, comforted by the scent of his soap and the warmth of his body, curled up inside like a warm blanket; safe.
Reaching up, he presses a kiss to the crease between Veritas’ eyebrows, watching as his face scrunches up slightly at the pressure. Chuckling quietly at the expression, he lowered himself back down, tucking his face into Veritas’ pecs. Aventurine thought better than to ask about what a doctor and a scholar needed large muscles for, thinking he would likely get dragged into a lecture about nurturing one’s body as well as one’s mind, but he isn’t complaining now, for they make amazing pillows, as well as hide him away from the darkness of the night.
It’s hard to admit it to himself, a lot of the time, especially on more difficult days when Aventurine waits for the other shoe to drop — when his own anxious mind dreams up magnified scenarios of his own insecurities; that everything was an experiment, that this had all been a dream, that he really did die on Penacony and everything had been an illusion from the start. It was hard, those days, but Veritas was always there; a constant presence, holding both of his hands, and helping him up when he stumbled along this path he promised his family he would continue to walk.
Sometimes, it was hard to admit that Veritas loved him. That Veritas Ratio loved him; the same man he was always calling senseless, illogical, chaotic; a frivolous gambler with a penchant for getting into trouble, and betting on his own life but maybe… after not having to brush his teeth until they bled only to get the taste of him out of his mouth, after his “I love yous” do not go unacknowledged and returned in the same, straightforward way as he had offered them; and after being wrapped up in his arms the same way he would have been if Aventurine had admitted to a nightmare…
Maybe, for tonight, he can admit it.