Work Text:
The first thing Veritas Ratio did after the IPC hired him as a consultant was meticulously document all the IPC’s—frankly numerous—organizational flaws. When he finished his report and presented it to Jade, it was nearly a thousand pages long and included examples, graphs, images, and interviews, along with his expert analysis.
In the following months, the IPC neither thanked him for his work nor enacted any suggestions. But that didn’t bother Ratio. He had a duty to spread knowledge, not deal with bureaucratic failures.
Unfortunately for Ratio, the IPC promoted a trigger-happy half-wit into the position of ship’s navigator. Nobody bothered checking if he possessed the required mastery of advanced mathematics—an oversight well documented in his report. Within a week of his promotion, he catastrophically miscalculated a course, and the IPC lost a spaceship full of agents.
The disaster was both a tragic loss of lives and an intergalactic embarrassment. But most annoyingly, it brought Ratio here, facing neat rows of desks containing the entire cadre of IPC navigators.
Ratio plucks a fresh piece of chalk from a box on his desk, writes the word calculus in all capital letters on the top of the board, and underlines it with a single, thick stroke. He turns to face his class.
“You’re all here because you’re infected with the disease of ignorance. I won’t bother learning your names. Likely, you’ll prove incurable and find yourself failing this class and out of a job.” He sees more than a few panicked faces. Good. Perhaps they’ll take this seriously. “We meet every morning at eight. Either you’re on time, or I’ll fail you.”
A few hands shoot into the air, but he ignores them in favor of facing the board. He lifts the chalk to the board and writes an equation in neat, evenly-sized numbers. “Save your questions until the end. They’re likely idiotic, and I have a lot of material to cover.”
For a moment, the only sound in the room is the click of chalk on the board, but a flurry of activity soon follows as the navigators scramble to find paper and pens.
Covering the basics takes nearly two hours, but Ratio doesn’t pause or slow down. If they’re struggling already, there’s no hope for them. He stops when the board is full to observe the furious motion of hundreds of pens as they scramble to copy everything down.
He reaches for his water, takes a sip, and chokes when his eyes catch on the student seated at the end of the front row. Unlike the rows of panicked navigators, the IPC’s resident peacock gambler sprawls lazily in his chair, his chin resting in his palm and his legs spread indecently wide. The seams of his tight, white pants strain against the stretch, highlighting his slim thighs and decently sized— No. Absolutely not. Ratio pulls his gaze up to glare at Aventurine.
He gets a wave and a cocky smile in return.
Ratio grits his teeth. There’s no reason for Aventurine to be here other than to torment him. He should drag the damn gambler out by his ear and be done with this nonsense. But knowing Aventurine, that’s precisely the reaction he’s looking for, so Ratio settles with throwing his chalk. Hard.
Unfortunately, the agent seated next to his target picks that moment to lean forward, trying to get a better look at the board, and the missile hits him squarely in the temple.
Silence blankets the room as the agent crumbles to the floor.
“Let’s continue,” Ratio says, turning back to the board and ignoring Aventurine’s silent clapping.
The next week is a test of Ratio’s short patience. He fields seventy variations of the same questions from frantic IPC agents and endures Aventurine’s continued presence.
Aventurine shows no interest in the material. He never takes notes, preferring to spend the entire class staring at Ratio through his rose-colored glasses. Even though over a hundred agents are in the room, Ratio can feel the heat of those gemstone eyes on his back as he lectures. It’s… distracting. But not as distracting as Aventurine’s increasingly lewd outfits.
The white pants disappear in favor of an even tighter pair made of gray silk that dries Ratio’s throat. He seems to forget what his shirt buttons are for, and every day, he reveals more skin until Ratio is sure he catches sight of a pert nipple. It’s a good thing Ratio could teach this material in his sleep as images of ripping the remaining buttons free and pinning the cocky gambler against his deck haunt him as he lectures.
Today, at least, Aventurine is behaving. Like the other agents, his head is bent low over his test as his pencil flies across the paper, and Ratio is curious despite himself. Perhaps Aventurine is taking his class seriously.
Later that evening, Ratio curses his naivete as he flips to the second page of Aventurine’s test. Across the entire page, drawn in impressively graphic detail, is a life-sized drawing of an orgasming penis, complete with cum letters that say, I heard there are other ways to get an A in your class.
Heat blooms on Ratio’s cheeks as he stares at the drawing—the nerve of that damned gambler. He should fail Aventurine on the spot, report him, and have him banned from the academic buildings.
He should not return the test to Aventurine the next day with a curt, “Stay after class to discuss your grade.”
But he does.
“You wanted to talk to me, professor?” Aventurine asks as the last agent files out of the room. “About my exam?”
Ratio sits at his desk and gestures for Aventurine to sit across from him. The gambler ignores him, sauntering over to perch on the edge of his desk. He sits too close to be proper, and Ratio can feel the heat of Aventurine’s thigh against his arm. His pants are made of deep blue silk and are at least two sizes too small. Ratio wants to peel them off with his teeth.
Noticing his gaze, Adventuring spreads his legs wider as he leans back on his arms, inviting Ratio to look at his growing interest. Ratio doesn’t demure—he rests a palm on Aventurine’s leg and digs his fingers into the soft skin of his inner thigh. Through the thin pants, he can see the entire outline of Aventurine’s dick.
“Your performance was pathetic,” Ratio says, watching Aventurine twitch at the comment. It must be painful, bound in those tight pants. He runs a finger along the bulge and feels Aventurine rock his hips into the touch. “I should fail you.”
Aventurine leans forward to lick a stripe up Ratio’s neck. He stays close enough that Ratio can feel his breath against his neck as Aventurine says, “Surely, there’s something I can do for extra credit, professor.”
“I don’t give extra credit,” Ratio says, ignoring the little kisses Aventurine presses against his jaw in favor of palming his clothed cock. It’s hot to the touch, and Ratio rubs his finger along the wet patch developing on the silk.
Aventurine groans and rocks forward. “Perhaps, ah—perhaps I can convince you to make an exception.”
Ratio lets him rut against his hand for a few more seconds before stepping away. Aventurine sways after him, eyes glazed. Seeing Adventuring like this—aroused and seated on his desk like a possession—sends a pulse of want down Ratio’s spine. It settles heavily between his legs as Ratio pulls his chair back and sits.
“Convince me, then.”
Aventurine blinks at him. “What?”
“Convince me not to fail you,” Ratio says as he leans back against the chair and pulls his belt free. Warmth gathers in his belly as he watches Aventurine lick his lips.
“Ah, let’s not be so hasty, professor,” Aventurine says as he slides from the desk and folds himself neatly onto the ground between Ratio’s thighs. He pouts up at Ratio, leaning against his knee. “I need some reassurance.”
On anybody else, that pout would be annoying. But seeing Aventurine’s full lips and the way he looks so natural kneeling between his legs makes Ratio’s half-hard cock stiffen. His hand tangles in blond strands, and he tugs. Aventurine goes easily, displaying the long line of his throat. Entranced, Ratio wraps his hand around and gently squeezes.
“What kind of reassurance?” he asks, unable to pull his eyes from how large his hands look against that slim neck. How will it look when his cock is buried inside? He feels Aventurine’s throat work as he swallows.
“Professor,” he purrs, “If I going to put in this much work, I want my A.”
Ratio resists the urge to roll his eyes. The damn gambler has no reason to even be in this class. But he’s unpracticed at denying Aventurine, especially when they want the same thing.
“I’ll consider all aspects of your performance when determining your final grade.”
It’s not a promise, but it seems good enough for Aventurine. He leans forward until his face is inches from the tent in Ratio’s pants. His pink tongue darts forward and licks a long stripe across the fabric. They’re too thick to feel his tongue, but the pressure is nice. As is the view.
Wanting to feel those lips on his, Ratio cups his hand under Aventurine’s chin and guides him up. “Well, gambler. Do try to impress me.”
While Aventurine might have started this encounter with his brash grin and even brasher offer, he seems more than willing to let Ratio lead. He follows obediently, coming up onto his knees before winding his arms around Ratio’s neck and pressing eagerly into the kiss.
Kissing Aventurine isn’t anything like he’d imagined. In his imaginings, Aventurine would be as pushy in bed as in his other dealings. But he wasn’t. He responded beautifully to Ratio’s directions, letting him control the tempo of the kiss.
As their tongues dance in a smooth exchange of saliva, Ratio lets his hands wander. They trace down the musculature of his back and curve around that narrow waist before settling on pert cheeks. Ever since he’d met Aventurine, he’d been tempted by the sight of that plump ass squeezed into pair after indecent pair of pants. Ratio squeezes, relishing the weight in his hands.
Aventurine groans into his mouth and presses back into his grip like he’s been just as desperate to feel Ratio’s hands on him.
Ratio feels almost lightheaded as he scoots to the edge of the chair and uses his grip on Aventurine’s hips to haul the smaller man against his body. The pressure relieves a bit of the ache in his groin.
They spend a few minutes like that, their lips and tongues moving in a filthy slide. Aventurine alternates between tugging on Ratio’s hair and running his fingers along his jaw while Ratio gropes his ass. He’d be content to spend a couple more just like this, but Aventurine twists, and Ratio’s hand slides between his cheeks.
Suddenly, it’s too warm. The fabric of his shirt sticks to the sweat on his back, and he breaks the kiss, needing to feel Aventurine’s lips around his aching cock. He slides his hands up, pausing to circle a nipple, before saying, “I hope that’s not all you had planned.”
Aventurine scoffs. “Of course not, professor. I’m just getting started.” Then, as if he can read Ratio’s mind, he sinks down, pausing at each button to undo it and press a wet kiss to each inch of newly revealed skin.
When he finally gets to Ratio’s trapped cock, he spends a minute mouthing at it through the fabric. The heat of his mouth feels divine, even through his layers, and Ratio lets his hips rock up into the pressure. It’s good, but not nearly enough.
Luckily, Aventurine seems equally impatient. Nimble fingers slip under his waistband, and then Aventurine’s hands are at his thighs, trying to pull him up. Gemstone eyes look up at him from above lush, pouting lips. “A little help?”
For a moment, Ratio considers making him work for it. But he’s too impatient for that. He stands, and Aventurine slides his pants and underwear down his thighs. Ratio keeps his gaze on Aventurine as the gambler undresses him so he doesn’t miss the way his eyes widen as Ratio’s cock springs free.
The tight pants Aventurine prefers leave little to the imagination, but Ratio has never enjoyed displaying himself so wantonly to others. So, while he has a vivid picture of Aventurine’s size, his is obviously a surprise. A pleasant one if the way Aventurine licks his lips is any indication.
“Quite impressive,” Aventurine says as Ratio settles back into his chair. Soft hands run up and down his lower belly as Adventurine stares at his girth.
“Your drawing was almost to scale.” Ratio spreads his legs as Aventurine scoots forward. “Don’t tell me you’re backing down now.”
“No way,” Aventurine says. “I bet I can take you easily.” Fingers finally wrap around his cock, and Ratio moans softly. He guides Aventurine’s head down with firm pressure to the nape of his neck.
“Is that so?” Ratio asks, his breaths coming quicker as Aventurine begins to lick long stripes up his cock. He mouths at the head and swirls his tongue against the weeping tip.
“It is,” Aventurine asserts before his lips close around the head.
Ratio tangles his fingers in Aventurine’s hair and pushes the falling strands behind his ears. It gives him an obstructed view of Aventurine as he bobs up and down on his cock. He doesn’t take all of Ratio—can’t without practice—but he makes up for it with his enthusiasm. He drools on Ratio’s cock, his hands working whatever isn’t encased in the warmth of his mouth.
Aventurine keeps his eyes on Ratio as he takes as much as he can, and Ratio can’t look away even if he wants to. Which he certainly doesn’t. He wants to memorize the way Aventurine’s lips look stretched around his cock and the way his pupils are blown wide with arousal. He wants to remember the way the harsh classroom lighting reflects off his earring as it swings in time with each movement and the way his throat convulses around the tip when Adventurine tries to take him too deep too quickly.
Heat builds between Ratio’s thighs. His balls feel full and swollen. He could finish down Aventurine’s throat, force him to take his cock deep before releasing. But the way Aventurine is kneeling, with his back arched in a beautiful bow, shows off the way his pants strain against the plump curves of his ass. Ratio wants to watch his cock disappear between those cheeks.
“Come here,” he orders, tugging Aventurine’s hair.
Aventurine releases his cock with a pop. “Change of plans?” he asks but comes easily as Ratio pulls him into a kiss.
Despite the heat in his body and the ache in his groin, Ratio keeps the kiss gentle. He groans as he tastes himself in Aventurine’s mouth. As they kiss, Aventurine finds his cock and strokes it in long, slow strokes.
Ratio’s hands find their way to his ass. He runs his fingers between the cheeks, trying to feel his entrance, but the tight pants don’t have enough give.
“I hate these pants,” Ratio says against Aventurine’s lips.
Aventurine laughs. “No, you don’t. You’ve been staring at them all day.” He steps back, and Ratio immediately misses the friction.
“Because they’re obscene.” Ratio stands and closes the gap Aventurine put between them. The front of his pants is stretched against his erection, and Ratio gives it a placating squeeze before he pops the button.
Aventurine groans in relief as his cock springs free.
It’s the prettiest cock Ratio has ever seen—slender with a slight upward curve. Aventurine’s cock isn’t small, but it looks tiny in comparison to Ratio’s. The difference in size makes his cock twitch. He runs a hand down it, reveling in the silky feeling of the skin.
“Like what you see, professor?” Aventurine asks, sounding breathless.
“It’s cute,” Ratio says, smiling at the flush on Aventurine’s face.
Aventurine opens his mouth, likely to argue, but Ratio flips him around and presses him against his desk. He slips his fingers into the waistband and pulls. They’re so tight that Aventurine has to shimmy them down his thighs.
As soon as the blue silk is pooled on the floor, Ratio drops to his knees.
“Ratio?” Aventurine asks, trying to twist around for a better view. “What are you—”
His words fade off into a long moan as Ratio spreads his cheeks and tongues at the tight furl of his entrance. Ratio licks around the rim until Aventurine collapses against the desk, then he pushes inside. He works his tongue deeper and deeper, savoring the way Aventurine’s thighs twitch and the desperate noises he makes at each stroke.
One day, he’ll keep Aventurine just like this, pinned between Ratio and his desk until he comes untouched. But today, his cock throbs at the thought of those tight walls squeezing around it.
Without stopping, Ratio pulls open the top drawer of his desk and feels around inside until he finds the small bottle he brought with him this morning. The top opens with a soft pop, and he spreads the sticky lubricant over his fingers. He doesn’t bother warning Aventurine before he pushes his first finger inside.
“Fuck,” Aventurine curses as Ratio works him open. It doesn’t take long for the slide to become easy, and Ratio adds another.
Aventurine writhes against the surface of his desk as Ratio uses his tongue and fingers to stretch him. Soft little gasps fill the room, nearly drowned out by the squelching of the lube. Velvet walls clutch his fingers each time he withdraws, and Ratio rushes through adding a third, then a fourth.
Four fingers are a tight fit; he can feel Aventurine’s walls spasm as he tries to take them. Ratio considers stretching him a bit more, but his cock aches, impatient.
Ratio stands and folds himself over Aventurine’s trembling form. His lips find Aventurine’s, and he kisses him soundly before asking. “Think you can take me, gambler?” He pushes his hips forward, partly to get some stimulation and partly to remind Aventurine of his size.
“Easily,” Aventurine pants. He sounds confident—as if he wasn’t nearly crying at the stretch of a few fingers.
The thought of tears gathering at the corner of Aventurine’s eyes only makes Ratio want him more, so he doesn’t argue. Blindly, he finds the open lubricant, slicks his cock, and pushes inside.
“Professor,” Aventurine whines after he manages to take the head, “I don’t think—ah—I don’t think it’ll fit.”
The nervous tenor of his voice makes Ratio shudder. “Where’s that trademark confidence, gambler?” he asks, licking a bead of sweat behind his ear. It tastes salty, with a hint of something uniquely Aventurine. “I thought you never lost a bet.”
“I don’t,” Aventurine says shakily, pushing his hips back as if emboldened by the reminder. They both groan as he takes another inch.
It takes all of Ratio’s willpower not to slam Aventurine down on his cock. He pants into the damp strands of Aventurine’s hair. The heat surrounding him is exquisite.
“Then relax,” he orders through gritted teeth.
Miracle of all miracles, Aventurine listens, and Ratio presses forward until his balls are nestled against Aventurine’s ass. He glances down at Aventurine. His parted lips are swollen and shiny with spit, and his eyes are squeezed closed.
“Look at me, gambler,” Ratio commands.
Aventurine’s eyes flutter open. Tears gather at the corners, and Ratio wants to wreck him. He wants to bury himself inside until Aventurine is delirious with pleasure and the tears spill down his cheeks.
Ratio stands and grips Aventurine’s hips in his palms.
“Professor?” Aventurine asks, then trails off into a moan as Ratio starts to thrust.
He starts small, only moving a few inches, until the vice grip on his cock starts to loosen. Then, he deepens his strokes, using the desk and the weight of his body to pin Aventurine in place. Little punched-out noises spill from Aventurine’s throat as he fucks him.
Ratio is thick enough that he knows the pressure on his prostate is intense, but he doesn’t relent. Aventurine’s hands scramble on the desk surface, and Ratio pins him down with a hand to the back of his neck.
“Too much—” Aventurine babbles through his tears. “Professor, it’s too much.”
It would be more convincing if he weren’t pushing back into every thrust. “If you want to pass, you’ll handle it,” Ratio says, teeth gritted against the pleasure. Sweat drips down his back, and static fills his ears. This damned gambler has ruined him. He’ll never be able to teach his class again without seeing Aventurine spread across his desk or kneeling between his legs.
“Fuck”, Aventurine curses. “I’m going to—”
He groans, and Ratio changes his thrusts into a deep grind. The walls of Aventurine’s hole tighten around him in erratic intervals as he cums. Ratio can’t tear his eyes away from the way Aventurine looks as he orgasms, his brow scrunched, and his lips slack with pleasure.
Ratio fucks him through it, pulling out only once Aventurine has gone limp below him. His hole gapes when Ratio pulls free, and he spends a minute watching it twitch, hungry for more. Even a man as disciplined as Ratio is helpless to resist its allure.
He flips Aventurine over and grabs both his legs. His ankles are slim enough to hold them easily in one hand, and Ratio holds them against one shoulder as he lines himself up and pushes back in.
Still sensitive from his orgasm, Aventurine twitches as he enters. Tears trace his cheeks, but they only spur Ratio on. From this angle, he has a perfect view of Aventurine’s soft cock, sticky with his cum.
Hearing Aventurine’s overstimulated protests and feeling how well he takes his cock quickly brings Ratio to the edge. He holds himself there, savoring the sensations that border on being too much.
Aventurine clenches around him, strong enough that it must be deliberate, and says, “I want to feel you cum in me.”
It’s such a stupid line. It shouldn’t work on Ratio. But Aventurine always gets under his skin, so it does. Ratio grits his teeth and finishes in short, harsh thrusts.
When the ringing in his head clears, he spreads Aventurine’s legs and collapses on top of him. Aventurine lets out a grunt of protest, but his arms wind around Ratio’s neck. He presses closer, demanding, and Ratio indulges him with a series of slow, deep kisses.
Saliva connects their mouths when Ratio finally pulls back to look at Aventurine. His hair is a sweaty mess, and the salt from his tears has dried in tracks down his face. He looks satisfied in a way that makes Ratio’s cock twitch where it’s still buried in Adventurine.
“So,” Aventurine drawls, “did I pass?” He looks innocent, but Ratio can feel the way he clenches around his softening cock.
Ratio rocks forward. “Don’t look too pleased. Passing one test doesn’t mean you’ll pass my class.”
Aventurine smiles at him. “Well, professor, it sounds like I’ll have to demonstrate my understanding after each exam.”
“I guess you will,” he agrees. And if Dr. Veritas Ratio assigns more exams that semester than any other, that’s purely coincidence.