Chapter Text
When Aventurine entered the meeting room, he expected his husband to be waiting for him, along with a few high-ranking members of the (hopefully) newest addition to the IPC.
For starters, Aventurine knew these man all too well. He had taken the time to listen to their podcast and done research on their "Alpha male grindset", and he had come to find that while he respected the genius way they marketed and built their business...
He despised them.
And from the looks of his husband, grasping a chalk between his fingers and gripping his tome so hard he knuckles were turning white, he wasn't the only one.
He greets the first one with a smile, and the man's face morphs into a nasty grin. The leader of the three on the other side of the table, this one was the face of the movement, with a greasy combover, a face caked with makeup, and an infuriating smugness. "Welcome, Mister Aventurine! Please, take a seat. We'll begin negotiations now." Aventurine smiles and sits next to his husband. "Let's get to business, the IP-"
"So, Doctor Ratio. What can we do for you today?" The smallest man beams at Ratio, ignoring the gambler. While this one's coiffed hair looks better, he's got an unnerving smile and refuses to look Aventurine in the eye. Ratio grips his chalk so hard it cracks. "I believe Director Aventurine was speaking." He grits out.
The last woman, somehow gaudier than the last two, speaks up. Aventurine resists the urge to roll his eyes when she speaks. "We prefer to do our business with those who have standing in business."
That one shocks Aventurine. But, he knows his place in this conversation, so he waves his hand and motions for Ratio to take it away.
The doctor looks pissed .
"You will address my partner." He scowls at them. "He is the 'business-savvy' individual you were fawning over just moments ago. Do business with him." He leans back.
Aventurine smiles, tight and professional, as all three turn to look at him. The man on the end speaks with a wet smile. "How... impressive! For one like you to get as far as you did, it must have been difficult to stand on your own." He leans back and puts his hands into his lap, and Aventurine hears the allegation for what it is.
"I assure you, sir, I've done all my own work. I'm just as good as those who follow you." He tries not to spit when he says it, and the three either ignore the insult, which is unlikely considering how well they jump at provocation, or it goes far over their heads.
Either way, it earns Aventurine more speaking time. "The IPC would like to issue an offer of trade to begin our partnership." Ratio pulls a pen and a file from thin air, and when he slides it over the table, all three pay attention to him again. "What does this entail, doctor?" The leader flips through the pages.
Despite the good doctor looking like he was about to fly over the table, he answers calmly as Aventurine stays silent. "The first page is trade deals. What we will get, and what we will give." The man nods, then he flips to the second page. "What is this?"
Aventurine speaks up. "Our morals and ethics clause." He tries not to smirk as he lists out the clause, even when he knows something so simple will likely set them off. "In short, no political ties to extremists, or terrorists. There will be no discrimination based on gender, race, sexuality, religion, skin color, or disability. It's a form-" "Excuse me!?"
The woman nearly yowls. "How dare you try to change our ways?" She glares at him. "Our planet was formed on the basis of one religion, and there's no reason to attack us for it!" "Madame-" Ratio begins. "And you!" She jabs her finger at him. "I'm disappointed in you, walking around and bowing to some Avgin immigrant!"
Aventurine grabs Ratio's hand under the table, squeezing it tightly as a reminder to keep his cool. "I respect my superiors." He grits out.
"I understand." The middle man sighs. "I'd appreciate it if you kept your bedroom out of our office."
At that, Aventurine is stunned stupid. Ratio is too, by the way his jaw drops. "Excuse me?" Aventurine chuckles, annoyed. "What was that?"
"Well, someone like you," he looks the Director up and down, "must only be in this position if you're having sex with him." He points to Ratio, who is now trembling in anger. "I don't appreciate homosexual abominations encroaching on our planet." The man stands, slamming his hands down onto the table. "I'm tempted to remind both of you that on our planet, our rules apply."
Aventurine frowns, and squeezes his husband's hand tighter. "Is that a threat, friend?" The woman sneers down at him. "Keep in your place, mutt. You should be sent back to where you came from to be left with the Katicans. Be lucky we don't make that happen now."
"I think that's a threat." Aventurine grins and takes out his phone. The man on the end scoffs. "And nobody on this planet will believe you."
Aventurine grins. "They don't need to." He waves his phone in the air, and all three individuals pale. "I just needed evidence of a credible threat. The IPC has now decided you are a credible threat to their operations and has seized control of your planet for the safety of those living on and around it."
The gambler stands, smirking as he flips a chip between his fingers. "We will be-" His shield is raised just in time, and a bullet shatters to the ground. The man on the left is now furiously shaking, hair tussled and suit wrinkled as he holds out a gun.
"We will not have our planet be overtaken by some low-life, immigrant, faggot, slave slut SCU-!"
The man interrupts himself with a high scream as Veritas literally leaps over the table to hook the man in the cheek. Aventurine's eyes go wide as his husband tackles the man to the ground, wrenching the gun from his grip. The next punch he gives only knocks the man out with a sickening crunch, and for a moment Aventurine worries if the man's dead, for Ratio's sake.
Ratio stands, moving instinctively to grab the woman's hand, pulling her forward and tripping her before she can reach for her gun. He instead slips it from the holster and slams it on the back of her head with a loud crack, pointing it at her fallen form with a growl. "Stay down." When she doesn't move, he aims the gun at the last man, frozen in fear in his seat. He almost whimpers.
The door behind them slams open and IPC grunts storm the room. They wrestle the leader to the table and hand cuff him, then they follow Ratio's instructions to keep the other two alive and well for their court date and inevitable 'We violated a shitton of human rights violations' punishment.
When the three are gone, Aventurine retakes his seat. His advisors and assistants bring in a few things for him to sign and take testimonies from both the gambler and doctor, then they leave him with a few files and tablets.
The moment they're gone, Kakavasha stands. "Your hand." He walks to Veritas, who's still glaring at the spot where he dropped the first bastard. He steps in front of the view, and immediately Veritas glare goes soft. His furrowed brows become concerned and his grimace becomes a frown. "Are you alright?"
Vasha shakes his head. "I'm fine, it's just..." He pauses, and Veritas grabs his shoulders and looks him over in a panic. "My honor might not recover." He giggles, and the doctor sighs in a mix of relief and exasperation. "You are horrid for my heart health."
Kakavasha leans up to give him a kiss. "Yes, but you knew this when you married me." He gentle takes Veritas' bandages hand. "You shouldn't have." He whispers. "I mean, you really shouldn't have. Jade's gonna throw a fit over it." Vasha kisses the bandages.
"You would have done the same for me, Amica mea." Veritas reasons. "She would have been more upset if one of her Stonehearts had caught a bullet." His palm cups the blonde's cheek as he leans down for a kiss. Vasha returns it with a soft smile.
He pulls Veritas closer, running his hands up and over the broad shoulders with a hum. "You looked terribly handsome defending my honor, doctor." Kakavasha noses the doctor's cheek. Instead of being ravished with greedy hands like he's aiming for, then the gambler is instead held right and kissed.
He squeals as his publicly-stoic husband gives into his private tendencies. Kisses are laved over his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, his lips. He only stops when Kakavasha is giggling and he feels he's sufficiently smothered his husband. "Shall we go?" He slides his hand into Vasha's.
Vasha just smiles that sweet, love drunk smile, and everything's alright.