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on purple hyacinths, and what it means to be in love
full below the cut
"Hey Doc? What's your favourite flower?"
Ratio paused, tilting his head to the side in thought, drumming his fingers lightly against the marble coffee table.
"I find myself quite fond of hyacinths," he said, after a while, picking up his coffee cup, finger tracing absently along the side of the cup. "Particularly the purple variety. Is there a reason for asking?"
Aventurine curved his eyes upwards in a smile, raising his own coffee cup to his lips to hide the bitter smile hanging on his lips.
"No particular reason."
~
Aventurine stumbled back into his apartment, barely managing to shut the door behind him before collapsing onto the floor, chest heaving, wheezing and gagging, clutching at his shirt as the tightening in his chest worsened, screwing his eyes shut as he felt tears bead up around the corners, pinpricks of tears threatening to spill onto the pristine white marble floor.
He coughed, once, then once again, his shoulders trembling from the force that wracked through his slender frame, feeling an uncomfortable pressure build up in his throat before gagging again, a strange featheriness crossing his tongue before he spat out a clump of purple, blood-stained, hyacinth petals.
Aventurine swallowed around the metallic, coppery taste in his mouth, his trembling fingers pressing against the damp mess of petals on the floor, staining the floor in red, smearing it across in smudges that reminded Aventurine — heartwrenchingly, bitterly, painfully — of a scene from a movie he saw, of lovers entangled in each other's embrace, and of lipstick smudging messily as they tumbled into bed together, and how his heart had ached so terribly as he watched them giggle on the silver screen, caressing each other tenderly post coitus, so much so that he had to look away, bitterness building up in his chest and threatening to tip over, spilling his misery all over the carpeted floor.
What had Ratio said? Purple hyacinths? He picked up a blood-stained petal, crushing it between his thumb and pointer, watching as his fingers were dyed in hues of both purple and red. How amusing, in an utterly pathetic way.
He had read once, on flower languages, a passing, idle interest of his, and he recalled purple hyacinths being symbolic of sorrow, and a plea for forgiveness.
Begging for forgiveness, Aventurine thought, as he picked himself off the floor, his chest still aching. And sorrow. Two things, he realised, that seemed to haunt his every waking moment.
~
Aventurine found himself in a familiar position: back pressed against Ratio's bed, his hips propped up by one of Ratio's pillows, and Ratio himself, between his legs, his mouth around him, pushing him closer to his climax.
"A-ah," Aventurine squirmed on the bed, his hips bucking uselessly as Ratio held him down. "R-Ratio, I– I'm close– ah!"
Aventurine came with a soft cry, twitching against the sheets as Ratio continued to lick around his sensitive cock, tears of overstimulation beading around the corner of his eyes, his legs trembling before giving out, falling uselessly and gracelessly on the sheets.
Ratio finally drew away from his cock, his thumb rubbing against the protrusion of Aventurine's hipbone, murmuring soft praise, brushing aside the sweat-darkened blond hair sticking to his temples — all actions that continued to tug painfully at Aventurine's heart, like fishhooks embedded into the tender flesh under his ribs, pulling relentlessly and mercilessly, causing him to bleed.
"All good?" The hand kneading his hip slowly made its way up to his lower belly, gently massaging it. "You seem more weary today, that's all."
Aventurine swallowed around the lump in his throat that tasted like blood, and the smell of purple, cloying hyacinths that clogged his senses, flooding them, suffocating him.
"I'm fine," he turned his head to hide his face into his arm; anything to look away from his eyes, that seemed to hold a profound, deep and intimate understanding of him — Aventurine, and of the young boy that lay curled up in the broken cavity of his chest, who had once dreamt of a life of quiet comfort, and devoted, constant affection. "I'm fine, really, Ratio– just–"
"We can stop if you're tired–"
"No," Aventurine cut him off, maybe a little too harshly, regretfully, when he saw Ratio flinch, his hands momentarily leaving their place around his hips. "Sorry."
"Don't apologise," Ratio's hand slid up to caress his waist. "You have nothing to apologise for."
The tightening in Aventurine's chest worsened, stifling his cough, choking down the purple petals that looked just like Ratio's hair, and the blood that glistened off them that matched his eyes.
He squeezed his eyes shut, as Ratio's hands moved lower, brushing against the sensitive skin of his lower belly, before feeling lips press against them, slowly trailing downwards — intimate, tender, worshipping, devoted, affectionate, doting, loving.
The cough that tore itself out of his chest startled both him and Ratio, causing him to pull away, as Aventurine scrambled upright, hand clasped firmly over his mouth, sticky, viscous petals clinging to his tongue, faintly, disgustingly sweet, sour with fear, and bitter with resentment.
"Aventurine–"
Aventurine shook his head, stumbling out of Ratio's bed — the same one he had once foolishly wished he had a place in — a hand still over his mouth, haphazardly pulling on his pants and his shirt, grabbing his belt and bag in his free hand, throwing open the door of the bedroom and running out the front door, wiping his stained hand on his pants, uncaring of the crimson streak it left on it, stuffing the bloody flowers into his pocket, bolting down the streets, the low lights and passing cars blurring as he ran.
He ran, until the quiet, lazy neighbourhood Ratio had tucked himself into melted into the bustling city centre Aventurine had thrown himself into, the finely-woven mirage of a comfortable life shaken off him as he plunged back into the cold, harsh reality of impending deadlines and high-return proposals.
Aventurine stopped at his front door, sweat drying on his back as he stared at the heavy, wooden door; unfriendly, harsh, unwelcoming, so unlike Ratio's, which had always felt charming, warm, welcoming to him — icy, unfeeling marble in contrast to warm, lived-in wood.
He pushed open the door, and promptly collapsed onto the floor, the ache in his chest unbearable as he choked back another sob, the familiar and unwanted feeling of purple hyacinth petals bubbling to the surface, threatening to empty themselves onto the floor again.
And he found himself cruelly reminded of the story of Hyacinthus, beloved by Apollo, and how the wind had swept the god's quoit off course, striking his lover in the head, wounding him fatally, and how Apollo, in his grief, had immortalised Hyacinthus' memory in the form of his spilled blood, into a flower, the hyacinth, and the flower henceforth, held the meaning of a plea for forgiveness — from Apollo, for wounding his lover.
Aventurine retrieved the petals from his pocket, laughing lowly to himself, both amused and distraught, as he threw the petals into the overfilling jar of purple hyacinths.
How cruel a fate, he thought bitterly, as he closed his eyes. To be in love with someone.
my ratiorine fwb comic is done! i started this about a year ago and really wanted to challenge myself to illustrate a longer scene with these two, one where you could really see how deeply they care about each other but also their difficulties in putting those feelings into words.
i don't usually write much so i definitely went out of my comfort zone for this.. but i hope you all enjoy!
🔞🔞🔞 fwb rtrn self indulgent little yearnslop thing i wrote ft. sappy ratio & avoidant aventurine below the cut
"A-ah– Veritas–" Aventurine's soft moans cut through the otherwise silence of his hotel room. "F-fuck– there, please–"
Ratio exhaled heavily into Aventurine's hair, his breath disturbing the pale gold strands of hair fanning over the pillow under his head.
"You're beautiful," Ratio murmured as Aventurine squirmed under him. "The first time we met… I kept wondering when I'd next see you."
"Stop," Aventurine squeezed his eyes shut, his heart thudding painfully fast in his chest. "Stop it, please."
"I kept searching for you," Ratio angled his hips to hit the spot that had Aventurine arching his back and scratching red lines down his back and arms. "Every place I went to, I searched for you; your silhouette, your frame, your hair, the line of your back, the curve of your waist and I ached to hear your voice again."
"Veritas," Aventurine reached around blindly, searching for purchase along the expanse of Ratio's back, settling to tangle his fingers in the loose, dark strands of hair that curled around his nape, as if they could not bear to be apart from Ratio's skin; warm, heated, soft, fragrant, familiar, comforting. "Veritas, I…"
"I've dreamt of you, as well," Ratio murmured, nosing along the exposed skin of Aventurine's neck, his breath tickling just above the brand seared into his flesh; an unfamiliar, but strangely welcoming feeling — perhaps it depended on the person it came from, Aventurine thought to himself dizzily. "Every night, you seem to haunt my dreams, and my waking moments. I often find myself…" he grunted, tightening his grip around Aventurine's shoulders, his hips stuttering slightly. "I find myself looking forward to our next meeting, sexual or otherwise, as long as I am able to see you, be near you, and — dare I be foolish enough to hope — hold you in my arms, and painfully, helplessly even, pretend you were mine, in those few moments, and I–"
Aventurine silenced him with a kiss, pulling him down to meld their lips closer together, licking his bottom lip, begging for entrance before Ratio complied, his hands leaving their place on Aventurine's shoulders to cup his face, his thumb smoothing over the skin of his cheek, brushing away tears Aventurine barely registered he had shed, his body pressed close to his own — as if they had been one, once, millennia ago perhaps, when the world was still young.
Aventurine recalled briefly of an excerpt he had read, where it was believed that humans were constantly searching for their other half, for they had once been two halves of a whole, aching to reunite, to heal and to mend wounds caused by circumstances beyond their control — and he thought, a passing thought, no less, that perhaps he, and Ratio were once one of those humans, and they had finally fallen into each others arms again after eons of searching.
Ratio licked into his mouth, sucking lightly on his tongue, drinking up the soft gasps Aventurine made, his fingers still lightly caressing his cheek.
"You're so good to me," Ratio murmured when they pulled apart, a transparent string of saliva connecting both their lips, breaking and landing on Aventurine's bare chest. "You've always been… ngh– very kind to me, always looking out for me, and–"
Aventurine shuddered, his thighs squeezing against Ratio's hips, heels digging into his back, his release building up in his gut as Ratio continued to thrust slowly, nibbling along the expanse of his neck, leaving a trail of bruises in his wake.
"V-Veritas–" he gasped out, his eyes flying open as his release drew nearer. "Gonna– ah–"
Ratio buried himself deep inside Aventurine's warmth, his hips stilling as he spilled into him, holding Aventurine close as he twitched through his orgasm, his back arching before falling bonelessly back onto the bed, a beautiful flush dusted across his cheeks, his hair tangled and sticking to his face.
Ratio panted, hiding his face into the crook of Aventurine's neck, breathing in his scent — sweat, sex, and an undertone of honey — a steady hand stroking his back as Aventurine came to, blinking hazily at him as Ratio pulled away slightly.
"Hi," Aventurine mumbled, a shaky hand pressed to Ratio's cheek. "That felt…" he paused briefly. "Good. Felt nice, thank you."
Aventurine shifted under Ratio, sitting upright, reaching to the floor to grab his shirt, shrugging it on, his back facing Ratio; cold, distant, guarded — as if they hadn't just been tangled in each others arms like lovers on a honeymoon.
Ratio pursed his lips, swallowing thickly at the sight.
"Aventurine–"
"You should go," Aventurine said, his back still turned and his head hanging low. "You have work tomorrow."
"I didn't mean to overstep," Ratio tried, grasping, aching to reach for that silhouette, to hold him close again. "If I overstepped, you should–"
"It's late," Aventurine's voice held a note of finality, as he turned around to face Ratio, his kaleidoscopic eyes shining in the otherwise darkness of his bedroom. "We both have work tomorrow, I'll see you then."
His hand was outstretched, holding Ratio's shirt and coat in it, a painful reminder that this wasn't his bedroom, nor was this his home, and that the both of them would have nothing more between them other than a few drinks and falling into bed together every week or so to let off steam, and that that was all they would ever be.
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thanks to everyone who left me a nice comment on that previous post - today was my first time revisiting this comic after two months. here's to hoping i can finish it soon
bad dream | rota fortunae au wip; for a mutual.
-----------
"Veritas," a familiar voice rang out, tantalisingly close. "Won't you open your eyes?"
Ratio blinked open, and felt pinpricks of tears along the corner of his eyes.
Vibrant pink and teal (not red, why would they be red?) eyes greeted his vision, full of life and mirth (of course, as they would be, why would they not?), curved upwards in a all-too-familiar smile on an all-too-familiar face.
"It's you," Ratio whispered, swallowing around the lump of emotions in his throat; sharp and prickling. "It's really you?"
Aventurine blinked, before laughing, loud and amused (and how he ached to hear it again, selfishly), before brushing a hand carelessly across Ratio's eyes.
"Of course it's me," Aventurine tucked a loose strand of hair behind Ratio's ear, his fingertips brushing against the shell. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Ratio grabbed the hand slowly carding through his hair and pressed it against his cheek, his fingers trembling as he squeezed, feeling the warm give of human flesh, bone, and blood thrumming and pulsing through veins, alive, proof of life.
"I had a terrible dream," he murmured into the palm of Aventurine's hand. "I… I dreamt I lost you, and… and I couldn't bring you back."
He squeezed his eyes shut, hearing Aventurine's soft gasp before a tender kiss was pressed to his head; warm, familiar, familiar, warm, alive.
"Oh Veritas," he heard Aventurine mumble into his hair, his thumb brushing over Ratio's closed eyelids. "That sounds terrible."
"It was," Ratio confessed, his voice cracking at the end. "I… don't want to imagine a world without you."
He felt Aventurine exhale, warm arms wrapping around his shoulders as Aventurine settled into his embrace, warm, familiar, familiar, warm, cold, steel, aluminium, the low hum of electricity and moving parts.
Ratio gasped awake, his hand instinctively darting out to reach for the warm body that had imprinted itself by his side, flinching when his hand glanced against cold titanium instead.
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Hello!! I have an urgent comm opening!! I will not go into details publicly, but my situation is quite dire at the moment so anything helps! I will update my VGen to have non-chibi services soon :)
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