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Dr. Ratio was never one to partake in plane rides. Much preferring the efficient multi-planetary travel that is spacecraft, "airplanes" are more of a tourist attraction than actual forms of transportation.
This is why he is baffled at the next assignment the Intelligentsia guild helpfully handed him.
It wasn't anything special, merely a wellness check on one of the many planets he aided due to his careful research on the plague this particular world was struck by. It seemed geared towards the IPC, hoping to gain more of the planet's precious resources by using his name.
Dr. Ratio feels himself scoff at his thoughts, and then he sucks in a breath after seeing who came into the meeting hall he was told to come into.
Aventurine. Honestly, who else would it be? Not even going to mention the damned gamblers entrance, there was hardly a need for a Stratagem to be at this meeting anyway; the briefing did not mention a Stoneheart even once.
He feels himself scowl deeply under his alabaster mask. The doctor's frown deepens even more as Aventurine focuses his eyes on him, practically beaming with gilded enjoyment.
"Ratio! I didn't know you'd be at this meeting, too," the blonde began, walking up to the scholar in the chair.
"I hadn't a clue of your presence, either. This meeting has little to no relevance for one of the Stonehearts being here, so why are you here?" He says harshly, crossing his left leg over his right.
"Woah, Ratio? I'm just as under IPC authority as you are, so even I can't deny a request for my 'presence,' as you'd put it." Aventurine lightheartedly remarks, pushing the chair next to Ratio, and unfortunately sits.
The man's Cheshire grin continues to make a place on his face as he continues. "Besides, I was told that this mission could be a leisurely break from all the shit that happened in Penacony, so wouldn't you rather spend this vacay with me?" Aventurine teases, tilting his glasses off of his face just enough for the doctor to peer at them.
Ratio huffed, crossing his arms and legs. "No. A company's mission does not count for a so-called 'vacay;' this is company-assigned work." He tries not to notice the small, natural smile that threatens to breach Aventurine's face.
"C'mon, doc, live a little! It's better than having to stay in Pier Point for how many months doing boring stuff, right?" He tilts his head in his classic boyish way, and Ratio wants to leave before the meeting has even started.
He answers Aventurine with silence, no longer wanting to continue this useless small talk. He hears the man next to him chuckle before swiveling the chair to face the screen at the end of the table, the lights dimming as the meeting finally starts.
☆☆☆
"Ratio, wait, where are you going! Ratio, you are walking far too fast for me to keep up with you-"
Ratio turned around to look at the gambler. "Maybe because I do not wish for you to keep up, damned gambler."
"Doc, it won't even be that bad being in those plane-thingys with me! You'll hardly notice me." The gambler responds, though out of breath from the brisk pace Ratio is setting.
"Being in a confined space with a Stoneheart for approximately 6 System Hours will indeed make me notice you eventually. Now, leave me be so that I can hopefully cancel the trip to make both of our lives more convenient."
"Doctor, do you really hate me so much that you won't even share a space with me?" Aventurine says, with such an uncharacteristically vulnerable tone that it makes the scholar stop walking.
Admittedly, the doctor didn't hate the other. Quite the contrary. Though admitting such to the other held a similar value to getting sentenced to death by lethal injection, he has thus learned to keep some of his thoughts to himself.
So, all in all, Ratio disliked Aventurine thinking that he felt hatred for the gambler, but putting that into words was a difficult task—for Ratio, at least.
His abrupt stop in the now empty hallway has left him facing his back to the other, white hues bouncing off of those pristine IPC windows.
"Really, Ratio, that made you stop?" Aventurine says, walking slowly to the others’ back. He stops when they are only 5 feet away from one another.
"I... rarely feel hatred for things, gambler. Idiocy and things devoid of knowledge and purpose, yes, but hardly for people." He begins, making no effort to turn to face the other.
"I am also mildly dissatisfied by how this mission ended up occurring. It is merely a formality pitched as a wellness check, disguised to capitalize on the vast resources that the IPC wants." Ratio continues. hearing a slight laugh from the blonde when he says the word "mildly."
He moves closer to Aventurine, taking broad steps. "If we look at it from an unbiased perspective, there is absolutely no need for a.. a Stoneheart to be on this assignment. You also still need to recover, as it has only been two months since the incident at Penacony!"
Aventurine takes in his words, though he does not say anything in response.
Finally, though, he speaks.
"I've... been through worse, doc; I'll get through it, like I've always done."
Ratio feels a nerve pop, and he finally turns around to face the gambler, his mask long gone.
Ratio stares into the pinks and blues of Aventurine's eyes. "It matters naught to me about your trials and tribulations prior to being trapped in an Emanator's nihility, and frankly holds no importance.” The scholar says, hands firmly to his sides (though he wishes to raise his hand to comfort the other, to know that simply surviving isn't just living).
“What's important to me now is making sure you are even in the right headspace to go do any interplanetary travel, nonetheless, in an aircraft you seemingly don't have experience being in."
Aventurine chuckles, staring back into Ratio's eyes. "Doctor, you're painting this trip to one of the safer planets nowadays as a battleground. You're forgetting that I'm also a Stoneheart, you know?"
"Do you truly not want to stay at Pier Point? You have the authority to excuse yourself from this assignment." Ratio concedes, sighing heavily at the large grin the Stoneheart gives him.
"Nope," Aventurine says, annunciating the p.
"Then I expect you to be at the shuttle terminal at 7:00 system time in two days from now. Not a minute later."
☆☆☆
It is 6:45 AM system time when Ratio appears at the terminal. It happens to be two connecting flights in order to reach the travel destination that he and Aventurine will be going to. The first flight is warp travel, a simple 30 minutes at most from Pier Point to the planet, followed by 6 hours in the aircraft.
Airplanes, more commonly named, are rarely ever used as actual transportation; only a handful of existing planets with humanoid life forms use them. Kiane-11, the planet that was successfully saved due to Dr. Ratio's efforts, was among the handful.
The planet was still recovering from the plague that wrecked the world and its peoples, so airplanes were used as an effective yet time-consuming way for the time being.
Checking his phone, the clock stands at 6:55. Five more minutes.
Ratio opens his codex, mostly out of boredom as he waits.
“Doc, I'm here!” He hears the familiar voice call out to him, and he looks up from his device to stare at the man briskly walking to him. The blonde has a bag of luggage trailing the floor, and he wears his signature glasses in the bright white terminal.
"It is currently 7:01 system time. You're one minute later than I advised, but it is better than your usual tardiness. 3 points."
Ratio hears the other chuckle, and he takes off his stone mask to fully see the gambler.
"Really, Ratio, grading me not even a minute after I got here? Behaving as per usual, huh?" Aventurine teases and sits down in the seat next to him.
He grumbles, but with no added malice. "Proper attendance is an important skill to learn, gambler, so it would be best for you to get a grasp of it."
"Sure, sure. Whatever you say, doc," Aventurine says, continuing to tease the other. "Oh! We're boarding in fifteen minutes. We should probably get in line now, right?"
Ratio stands up from his seat, wiping his clothes down. "Yes, it appears we should."
Ratio walks towards the line, hauling his purple luggage, as Aventurine follows behind him.
☆☆☆
The warp was easy enough, as far as warps are concerned. Ratio was surprised that, despite the vast wealth the IPC seemingly had on standby, they were put in business class instead of a private room for high-elites to travel in.
What confused the doctor, though, was how close together he and Aventurine were on the warp. Aventurine and the scholar were on spaceships before this assignment, so why is it that this time they were paired so closely? It realistically held no reasoning.
The ride was only 30 minutes, though, so he was content with simply sitting together and waiting it out.
Or what he would have said if the turbulence hadn't caused them to touch numerous times during the half-hour of transportation.
There was a strange form of claustrophobia that he felt being in this cramped cabin that he and Aventurine were in; the forced proximity feels as if he's discovered a new layer of hell.
Yes, claustrophobia is the reason why he feels a rapid heartbeat, has sweaty palms, and has a flushed face.
Ratio has never had anyone spend so much time so close to him, despite having their thighs and arms touch so often.
The scholar hardly has anyone touch him on a regular day, so this situation is leaving a… mildly uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.
Aventurine doesn't seem to feel this, though; he's somehow used to the bumping of the spacecraft.
"What got your panties in a twist, Doc?"
Ratio felt a blood vessel pop.
“My undergarments are of no concern to you, gambler.” He mumbles under his breath before leaning back in his chair. Another rumble fills the room.
"Ratio, Ratioo," Ratio heard the man whine, contemplating putting on his alabaster.
"Ratio, I know you're thinking of putting your dumb mask on," Aventurine says as if he is reading his thoughts. He clicks his teeth.
"Doc, I'm bored; isn't there something that we can do until we reach Kiane-11?"
"If you can't stay still and silent during a 30-minute trip, then I fear for any future assignments you'll have."
"Yeah, but that's different."
Ratio raises an eyebrow. "Different how?"
"Because..-” Before Aventurine could give his explanation, an announcement was heard on the speakers that only 5 minutes remained until their flight was over. He sees Aventurine avert his eyes down to his phone and decides to drop the subject.
His worries end eventually, and they leave the ship to make it to their next flight. Ratio hopes that there's less airplane turbulence when compared to the spacecraft that brought them there.
☆☆☆
“It seems that our connecting flight is in two hours, doc. You wanna grab a bite while we wait?” The gambler helpfully adds, looking at his phone for their tickets.
Ratio puts on his alabaster mask (why he didn't put it on previously, even Nous would not know) in an attempt to lessen the crowded noise at the planet's airport. He hears Aventurine call for him again.
Ratio turns to look at the Stoneheart. “Lead the way, gambler.”
He's heard rumors, both old and new, about the pricey items that were kept here, but with the amount of money that the doctor and Aventurine have, respectfully, it will be a non-issue.
Suddenly, he feels a warm hand grab onto his own, and he's being dragged by the gambler. It felt almost comical how someone who was barely up to his shoulder was able to very easily move him. Ratio decides against pulling his hand away (not that he would ever do it anyway).
They walk for what Ratio believes to be 10 minutes, dodging pedestrians in this surprisingly busy terminal. He moves his head—albeit stiffly—to Aventurine, who seems to be used to the foot traffic.
“Almost there, doc, I can feel it.” The gambler says.
Soon enough, they arrive in front of a pizzeria, and the scholar shouldn’t have been surprised that this is where the gambler chose to eat. He realizes that they are still holding hands, but he does not say anything about it.
“Why have you decided for us to dine here, gambler?” He finally asks.
Aventurine turns to look up at his stone face. “So you aren’t in the mood for pizza, Ratio? The other options here, from what I can see, are things you most likely don’t eat usually.”
“Oh?” Ratio says, letting go of Aventurine’s hand (why was he still holding it anyway?) to remove his bust. “My palette isn’t that of a child, gambler. If you’re holding back from choosing what you truly want to eat, then I won’t stop you.” He moves his hair in an attempt to make it look less rowdy, and he didn’t notice Aventurine looking at him.
“Doc, I could kill for a thin slice of pizza, so let’s just head in. We’re already in front of the place, anyway." Aventurine says with finality. The doctor nods, following Aventurine in.
☆☆☆
By the time they sat down, their plane was scheduled to arrive in 1 hour and 45 minutes, and this doesn't even include the process of waiting to order and eating. Ratio partially misses the no-contact delivery that was common on Pier Point.
Aventurine opens the menu, already reading the far too many options to choose from. “We should get one of their classic pies, right? Oh, or maybe one of the local meals, too!”
Ratio sighs heavily. “Gambler, might I remind you that we are on a fixed schedule? I suggest you figure out the items you are going to choose soon." He crosses his arms over the off-white tablecloth as he speaks, briefly glancing down at the bland accessories before turning to look back at the blonde in front of him.
Aventurine looks away from the menu, softly smiling as he speaks. “Don't worry, doctor, we'll be out of here in less than an hour.”
“I would hope so.”
After that sentence, a waiter walks up to their table, and Ratio allows Aventurine to say the order. The only thing he does mention is his drink. He decides on water. Aventurine, however, gets them wine.
“We're gonna be on a plane for 6 hours, doc! Wouldn't you rather we drink now before we board?” The gambler explains to Ratio, which admittedly doesn't help the situation.
“I'd rather not drink at all, and I'm fairly certain we'll be provided with drinks on the plane as well.”
“I already ordered the drinks anyway, so it's sort of like saving time, right?”
“That's… no, it's not.” Ratio sighs. “But I'd rather not see you drink two glasses of wine, so I suppose I'll drink it.” He relents, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Aventurine ordered their pizza, and now it was a matter of waiting. Ratio can only hope that they leave soon.
☆☆☆
They spent approximately an hour and a half at a mediocre airport pizzeria. As well as that, they consumed alcohol in a mediocre pizzeria.
By the time Aventurine paid (which he didn't even have to do; Ratio was the main person in charge of this mission), the plane was scheduled for their terminal in 15 minutes. When they were walking prior to the food establishment, it took them 10 minutes to get here. Now, however, there was an oddly high amount of foot traffic in the airport, so they had to get moving swiftly.
He looks to Aventurine as the gambler is putting his card in his wallet, with such a slow and calm pace that the scholar almost forgets about how little time they have.
“Aventurine, we need to start moving now,” Ratio says with insistence. Aventurine, however, doesn't have the same urgency. The Stoneheart has his luggage in his left hand, leaving his right hand open.
Feeling strangely impatient (maybe it's because of the alcohol he drank, or maybe because Aventurine always turns his thoughts inside out), he doesn't wait for a reply from the gambler, grabbing his hand forcibly. He grabs onto his luggage with his free hand.
“Doc? Hey, wait—”
But Aventurine's words were to no avail because Ratio would rather put his entire codex in a woodchipper than be late to this flight for idiotic reasons-
“Ratio, you're holding my hand too tight.”
Ratio snaps, turning to look back at the Stoneheart as they continue their brisk pace.
“Oh? Would you rather I carry you over my shoulder?” The scholar says, though he lessens his grip anyway.
“...wouldn't be upset if you did…”
“What?”
“Nothing!”
Ratio, while skeptical, did not feel like asking Aventurine to reiterate what he said. He's decided to shelve that conversation for while they are on the plane. The doctor continues to hold his hand until he can see their terminal number, and people have just started to board. Perfect.
The scholar lets go of Aventurine as they walk.
“That is why I did not want to lollygag at the food establishment, lest we wish to stay in this airport for the next flight to come, which could have taken-” He begins to ramble out of frustration, but he stops himself when he feels Aventurine hold onto his hand again.
“It's okay, doc, we made it anyway, yeah?” The Stoneheart says, squeezing his hand. Ratio feels something in his stomach flutter. “Our tickets are in ‘First-Class,’ it says, so we should get going.”
Alcohol is a toxin he rarely indulges in, which is probably why he feels his face burn red after that sickeningly sweet gesture. “Hmph. I would assume we should,” he mumbles, turning his head to look away from the gambler.
☆☆☆
The rest of the walk there isn't very climactic, in Ratio's humble opinion. They, thankfully, arrived right in the moment where they finished seating those with infants, and they were the first to be seated in First Class.
Without their knowledge, however, it appears that their seats were upgraded. They were personally brought to their seats by a flight attendant, and Ratio could hear Aventurine stifle a laugh at what they were welcomed with.
Rose petals. On airplane seats. He sighed heavily. Not only that, their “seats” were practically a bed, the only thing separating the two chairs (did these even count as chairs?). There was a cupholder in the middle as well as a remote for what Ratio believes to be a built-in TV. The two got what the airline calls their “honeymoon seats.”
“...” The doctor can't find himself to say anything in response to what his eyes are perceiving, while Aventurine has already wiped the petals off the cushion and sat in the seat most close to the window.
And to rub salt in the wound, the damn gambler pats the seat next to him, grinning in an almost malicious way.
“What're you waiting for, doc? Your seat's getting cold.” He continues to mock the doctor, and if they weren't in a public space, there would've been a chalk mark in the space between his eyebrows. A flick should suffice for now. And so he does it.
“Ow! Ratio, is that anyway to be treating your fiance—” Another flick, this one more out of embarrassment for Aventurine to even mutter anything about such things.
“Shut. up.” He says with elegance.
Aventurine rubs the spot in which he got hit, looking unapologetic as he smiles at the doctor. Maybe throwing chalk at him would be a good idea.
Finally relenting, he sits down on the seat, refusing to look at his (fortunate) unfortunate companion (even though he is visually appealing to look at… he's getting sidetracked).
He lays down against the pillowy back of the seat, finally getting a moment of rest before they embark. What he assumes to be a couple minutes later is the sound and feel of the plane taking flight, and he closes his eyes for six hours of rest.
Or well. It would have been six hours of rest. It was more like something shy of thirty minutes. Total.
The familiar feeling that he felt on their first trip came back as he and Aventurine moved in their almost uncomfortably close chairs, just touching and touching and-
The scholar was going to lose his mind. Hypothetically, at least. Realistically, at worst.
So when they touch again, with the same innocence as all the other times, he intends to do something about it.
Ratio looks at Aventurine. Good, he doesn't seem busy, tapping his screen with his deft, slender fingers—
He's getting sidetracked again.
So Ratio grabs Aventurine's wrist, uncaring about whether Aventurine says anything in response to his sudden action. He rushes them into the bathroom of the plane, and thankfully, no one seems to notice what they are doing. When Ratio steps inside, he sees a bathroom that is far too big for a bathroom found on a plane, with so much space and so many amenities that it would be impossible for people to actually use them.
♡♡♡
Ratio pushes Aventurine against the bathroom wall, staring down at him.
“You have to stop,” Ratio says flatly.
Aventurine blinks. “Stop… what?”
“Don't play the fool, gambler. You're doing something in order for me to feel this strange.”
Aventurine raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Was this about me calling you my fiance? If so, then I apologize-”
“It's not about that!” Ratio interrupts, forcing myself to look into the magenta-cyan eyes as he speaks. The same fluttering in his stomach comes back, and he feels himself turn pink. He turns his eyes down to the Stonehearts pink, glossy lips, wanting nothing more than to-
Oh.
Oh. So that's what it is. How annoying.
“Uh, doc? What's this about, then?” Aventurine says, though by the way the man was also looking at his lips, Ratio realizes that Aventurine has figured out why he took them in here.
The doctor would be lying if he said that Aventurine wasn't attractive to him, both physically and personality-wise.
Was he ever going to act on these desires? It felt unlikely for him at the time to indulge himself in that way, even though Ratio knew that Aventurine would reciprocate his feelings.
Now, though? The tension in this overtly expensive bathroom is thick enough that not acting upon it now would be a metaphorical death wish. The drinks they shared while dining may have also made a difference as well.
So when they clash in each other's mouths, the once-never-ending tension feels fulfilled between them.
Aventurine's mouth is warm, contrasting with the air-conditioned room that surrounds them. Not that Ratio would know where they even were now, getting lost in the feeling of lips interlocked. The scholar, embarrassingly, felt himself grow hard from the deep kiss, most likely a result of having gone years prior with no intimacy. That fact was besides the point, though.
It appears that Aventurine has also felt excited from the kiss, and when he (unfortunately) pulls his lips off, that is when Aventurine speaks, whining as he does so.
"Fuck, Ratio... you really make a guy needy, you know?" He moans, rubbing his thigh against the other.
Ratio groans from the pressure, and he looks down at the other. "I— Ngh. I share the sentiment."
Aventurine grips the scholar's shawl, using his other hand to grab the back of Ratio's neck. When their lips touch for the second time, Ratio knows he's too far gone.
After a brief moment of time, the gambler's mouth left his, allowing the two to catch their breath. Not that all action ceased, however, because he heard Aventurine whining as he grinded on the doctor's thigh. The feeling felt electrifying, and even though he wasn't the one rutting on anyone's leg, he let out gasps as he felt the other.
Aventurine's head rested on his shoulder, leaving kisses and marks on his neck.
"A-Aven- w-wait..—" He pleads, shivering with each hickey placed on his neck and collarbone.
"Wait? For what?" Aventurine replies, placing a last kiss on the left side of his chin before staring at the doctor. His dilated eyes, along with the blush on his face, made Ratio's breath hitch.
"Someone might—ngh! Someone might hear..." The scholar groans, feeling the other cup his now obvious hard-on.
"Oh really?" Aventurine begins. "Then we'll have to make it quick, right?" With that, he unbuckles his belt and moves his pants to pile on his feet. Ratio can't help but stare at the clothed erection, hidden only by the gambler's black boxer briefs. The doctor's mouth suddenly feels dry.
"I have a couple of plans I think you'd enjoy, Ra-ti-o..." Aventurine whispers, annunciating each vowel as he stands on the tips of his toes to reach his ear. He fails to stop the shiver that passes through him.
"I could fuck you in here, though I might get carried away," he says, putting his arms on the doctor's shoulders.
"Or maybe you could fuck me? I don't care either way; I'd be in control regardless, right, doctor?" Aventurine continues, and Ratio might be hallucinating by the way Aventurine's eyes glow as he says that.
"Or I could stuff my cock in your mouth, and I think you'd enjoy that the most." He finishes with a toothy grin plastered on his face. Aventurine trails his left index finger down from his collarbone to the hill on his chest, finally stopping right above his bulge.
"You would, right? God, I can just imagine your eyeliner trailing down your face as you choke on my cock." Ratio finally whines, and he hasn't said a word since before Aventurine began... began groping him! He feels like he's going to explode from the pressure of not actually getting stimulated, aside from the life-changing kiss they shared prior.
"Do you want that, Ratio? Yes or no," the damn gambler says, drawing a circle on his abdomen and leaving light kisses on his neck.
The thought of getting released and feeling something other than the incessant teasing was the only thing on his mind, so he began to nod.
"Words, Ratio." Aventurine says with force, leaving a feather touch on his erection.
"Y...Yes." He whines, hoping to finally get what he wants.
"Yes what, Ratio?" Aventurine says, moving his other hand up to his chest, circling his areola.
"Ngh! Yes, yes I want it— agh!" Ratio moans.
"Good boy, listening to my instructions." Aventurine teases, the palm that was previously incessantly teasing him now squeezing his dick, and Ratio moans, both from the sudden praise and the feeling of something finally providing relief, albeit small.
"Wow, you really like praise, huh? I'll make sure to tell you how good you are more often, right?”
Aventurine pulls down his briefs and groans softly at the cold air hitting his dick. Ratio feels his mouth water, and Aventurine was right; he wants his mouth on his dick as soon as possible.
It was perfect. From what Ratio can deduce, it was 6.5 inches (16.50 centimeters if he was using the height for anything math-related) long, and it looked beautiful, just like the rest of the gambler.
Aventurine did a singular pump of his fist, and now Ratio feels too impatient.
"Well, Ratio? You're staring at me as if you want to devour me, so you might as well."
As soon as Aventurine said that, he dropped to his knees, right in front of the other's girth. He licked his lips.
Despite his urgency to get his mouth on the gambler's body, he hasn't actually given and/or received fellatio. He looks down at the slightly tanned penis in front of him and gulps.
He's not entirely naive to the process of fellatio, and from the limited data he's received, he feels a mixture of curiosity and need course through him. He looks up, his eyes focused on the Stoneheart.
"Having cold feet, Ratio?"
"I've— I've never.."
"You've never given someone a blowjob before?" Aventurine interrupts.
Ratio swears to Nous that he doesn't pout at the gambler's words. "No, I've never practiced fellatio on someone," he grumbles, looking up at Aventurine.
"First of all, that was the most unsexy way to describe a blow job, and second of all, I'll guide you through it, okay?"
"I used the correct term to describe it, you—" He stops himself, though, when the head of Aventurine's cock hits his bottom lip. Whatever he was going to say was of little importance, anyway.
Aventurine chuckles softly. "You're adorable, Ratio. So first, open your mouth, 'kay?"
Ratio barely lets Aventurine's words sink in, opening his mouth, and suddenly the gambler's tip was in his mouth.
The scholar would've thought that the texture would have him immediately turned off, but he was reeling from the feeling, and he let out a whiny moan. He moves his tongue to the head, savoring the heady taste.
"Fuck- Ratio. Slow down, okay?" Aventurine rubs his hand in the doctor's hair, and Ratio shivers at the thought of swallowing more of Aventurine.
He hears Aventurine mumble, "Fuck, he's really gone," in the back of his mind. Two pairs of hands force him off of the cock, and he whines from the loss. He stares up at the Stoneheart in front of him with hooded eyes, seeing the way his breath hitched.
"Ratio, fuck," Aventurine groans, and Ratio's eyes turn down to the twitching dick he was just pulled off of.
"Okay, do it again, but follow my lead, okay? Continue off from what you were doing before. Stick out your tongue as you suck."
Following Aventurine's instructions (like his good boy, like—), he slowly puts the cock in his mouth, already wanting more. Why did he feel so impatient? Ratio's never felt anything like the raw need that's coursing through him.
Ratio feels the pre-ejaculate leave the frenulum of Aventurine's head, and he experimentally swallows it. The taste isn't particularly enjoyable, but the feeling of swallowing Aventurine's spend, and the thought of feeling his golden pubes on his nose are enough of a high for the doctor. He swirled his tongue around the tip, using one of his hands to grip the base of the penis and the other on the back of Aventurine's leg.
"N-Ngh... you're doing so good, Ratio. Go deeper now; I know you want to."
Ratio shivers because he does want to; he wants to feel the other's blond pubic hair on his nose, he—
"Mph..!" Ratio moans around the cock, tears leaving his eyes when he feels Aventurine press against his erection, moving his foot to press it just hard enough that he feels something but light enough that he doesn't feel pain. That action elects Ratio to swallow more of the flushed dick, silently choking as he reaches the base.
"Fuck, good boy, you look more pretty than I thought you'd look.." Aventurine groans, adjusting his foot against Ratio's clothed dick again. Wait, Aventurine has thought about Ratio in such a… such a debauched way?
However, hands on his head force him to stop any further thoughts. "We're in a time crunch, dear doctor; do you want me to take the lead from here?" The gambler says, grabbing his hair with force. Another shiver goes through his body.
He nods despite the phallus in his mouth, moaning when he feels the foot shift again.
A handful of his violet hair is pulled as he's forced back to Aventurine's head before being slammed back down to the base. He feels fireworks behind his eyes as he moans around the dick from the sudden pressure.
More tears trailed down his face, leaving red streaks down his cheeks. It feels so good to be forced down on his cock. Ratio laps up any pre-come that Aventurine leaks, high off of feeling.
"Ungh..! Doc, you can mo-move against my foot; you look like you're dying to cum."
As he deepthroated the cock once more, he rolled his hips against the leather shoe. He almost curls over from the feeling of pure ecstasy he feels. Ratio moves his hips in tandem with the thrusts, the different sensations going through his body almost feeling like too much.
The feeling of his lips enclosing around the cock, hitting the back of his throat, as well as the pressure being put on his hair and the electricity that swarms any sense of reason as he ruts against Aventurine like a dog—it feels so overwhelming but in such a welcome way.
He notices Aventurine's thrusts gradually lose rhythm, and his breath gets more haggard.
Ratio, through the lust-filled haze, noticed that Aventurine liked to talk during... intimacy. A lot. He kept saying sweet nothings—so many downright sweet words toward the doctor—which did not help the feeling of completion that the two of them were seemingly barreling towards.
The scholar feels the pressure in his gut coil tighter and tighter, and he feels so close—
"You're going to cum, right, Doc? Gonna mess up my shoes like the dog you are?" Aventurine says cockily, though he sounds out of breath. Ratio looks up at the gambler, who is currently burrowing his cock deep in his esophagus.
Aventurine whines and hips began to stutter. "Fuck, I'm close." He whines out, gripping the back of the doctor's head so that he can't escape (as if he'd ever want to). Aventurine accidentally pressed harder on the scholar's clothed erection due to being so close to completion.
Ratio also felt like he was on the precipice of his orgasm, with the feeling of Aventurine being so deep inside him and the foot pressing into him with such pressure that it almost hurt. More tears leave his eyes, which have rolled back into his head. The doctor gulps his throat, and he hears Aventurine's final warning.
"F-Fuck, Ratio, Im coming, Im coming—" Ratio doesn't pull away from the dick, so Aventurine's ejaculate enters his mouth, resting on his tongue.
The taste is... interesting. Ratio wasn't particularly fond of the taste of his semen, but the action of Aventurine releasing in his mouth barrels him into his own climax, shivering deeply as more tears streak his cheeks. He accidentally swallows the majority of Aventurine's spend, too lost in his ecstasy to care.
Eventually, Aventurine pulls Ratio off of him, still taking in deep breaths as he comes down from his high. Ratio swallows the rest of the gambler's... ejaculates. He misses the way Aventurine's eyes widen.
"Ratio, why- Why did you swallow it?!" He whisper-yells, holding the sides of Ratio's face.
Ratio makes a weird face at Aventurine's worry. "What else would I do? Make a mess on the floor?" He objects, kneeling as he crosses his arms petulantly.
"Well yeah, but... ugh, I don't even know." The blonde cuts himself off, grumbling.
Ratio almost quirks a smile at him, but the feeling of a new uncomfortable wetness in between his legs takes importance. Aventurine somehow takes notice of this, and a small, teasing grin is suddenly on his face.
"Oh yeah, you in particular have caught yourself in a dilemma, haven't you?" The gambler continues to tease, the smile widening as he sees Ratio's scowl.
"Hardly. We shouldn't leave together, anyway. You should leave first while I..." Ratio pauses, a soft blush now tinting his skin. "Clean myself up." The scholar pulls himself up off the floor. He makes a mental note to not touch anything until his hands are properly cleaned.
"Got it. I'll see you in our seats, doctor," Aventurine says, pulling up his undergarments and his pants and buckling his belt as he walks towards the bathroom exit.
Before he leaves, however, the foolish gambler places a kiss on his neck, and Ratio can feel his blush turn brighter.
After that, though, Aventurine exits, leaving Ratio to his own devices.
The doctor pulls down his pants, seeing the outline of his physical secretions leaking from his boxer briefs. With a sigh, he grabs one of the very well-thought-out moist towelettes and attempts to get his outfit in order.
Before Ratio presses a paper towel to his mouth, he briefly touches his lips, and a shiver goes through his body after remembering what acts of debauchery the scholar was very recently an accomplice to.
Licking his bottom lip, he moves his thoughts towards cleaning himself in order to get back in his seat. A seat he would now consider to be an adequate choice for the two.