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Normally, when sunlight came drifting in through the windows, Veritas felt the call to rise and acted promptly. He’d hop up out of bed for a shower, coffee, breakfast, and then out the door for whatever the day called for.
This morning, however, he simply felt a piercing migraine and a struggle to breathe through his nose.
Oh, wonderful. A cold.
Surely it was nothing he couldn’t handle, though. He pushed through the initial urge to roll over and go back to sleep, instead gathering himself and sitting up out of the blankets — which proved to be a terrible mistake.
“Ugh..” His hand came up to cover his face, brow pressed tightly together as a wave of nausea crippled him and had him sinking back down into the sheets.
Of course this had to happen the one week Aventurine was away, fooling with something for his modeling career.
He cringed for that thought. ‘Fooling with something’ implied that Veritas thought of his lover’s career ambitions to be ‘less than’, which was not the case. He simply had been busy grading papers when it was mentioned to him - Aventurine loved to tell him important things while he was distracted, as if he didn’t have a million different items flipping through his brain at every moment.
Still, the pull of guilt had him reassess his priorities. He knew he ought to be more involved in Aventurine’s life past the basic requirements of being a good partner.
Perhaps Veritas had grown complacent.
A mewl brought him out of his complicated thoughts, and he lifted his head, peering down at the small mound of cake cats now gathered at the side of his bed.
“…right,” he said, mostly to himself, as he dragged himself out of bed slowly.
Whether he felt hideous or not, these cakes would not wait for their breakfast.
The trio - a jet black, a calico, and a grey, all of which Aventurine had adopted months ago - bounced along behind him rhythmically as he trudged slowly into his kitchen, eyes half-lidded and feet dragging. His stomach growled, but he felt no hunger; just exhaustion and misery.
The smell of wet cat food had him pause at the sink to gag for a moment, and thankfully, since his stomach was empty, nothing came up. He breathed out a sigh, and resumed preparing their food, tipping each can into a dish best suited for their eating styles - two slow feeders and a regular dish.
After that, he walked to the refrigerator, opening up the freezer to reveal a container of frozen minnows toward the bottom that he grabbed three from.
Each dish got a minnow placed neatly next to the food, some kibble sprinkled on top, and then…
Then…
He was going to have to do the hardest part alone. Right.
Sniffling miserably, he picked up two of the dishes and walked toward the spare bedroom. Two of the cakes bounced behind him, but the third - the jet black one - mischievously sprang onto the counter and began devouring its meal.
Thankfully, he had accounted for that by leaving the proper slow feeder dish behind, ensuring the cake still got the right bowl.
The other two were fed promptly in their respective corners of the spare-bedroom-turned-catcake-room, certainly a little less feral about their food than their sibling.
Once that was taken care of, Veritas dragged himself into the bathroom, opening up his medicine cabinet before he paused.
What were his symptoms? Nausea, congestion, fatigue…he’d certainly be vomiting if he had anything to give…perhaps he ought to check his temperature first.
A few beeps later, and he suppressed a sigh.
Fever.
He had little in the way of traditional cold medicine - considering he was usually so careful with keeping hygiene and hand-washing habits up, he rarely got sick - but what he had in the cabinet would have to do until he felt well enough to leave and find something else. He downed the medicine, grimacing at the taste.
Veritas had a million little remedies in his mind, yet none of them were coming to him with his head so foggy and his body so tired. He just wanted to lay down, to sleep…but…
Ah! His calendar!
His phone had been abandoned on the nightstand in favor of the cakes’ meal time shenanigans. He hadn’t even considered his schedule for the day!
Opening up his calendar app, he saw a few lectures and a lunch meeting with a fellow professor he’d planned last week. Stress began to eat at him, thinking about how he’d have to push back his lessons to keep his students caught up, how he’d inconvenience his colleague in canceling on such short notice, how unreliable he would seem—
“Hey, it’s just one day,” Aventurine would likely say, easygoing smile on his face like he didn't have a care in the world.
Veritas’s brow furrowed with frustration and he released a sigh once more. “Yes, but days are finite and one is a considerable amount to waste,” he muttered under his breath, as if Aventurine were there to be argued against.
Then, again, he felt a prickle of guilt.
Why were his thoughts so negative when it came to his partner? Shouldn’t his words bring him peace, and reassure him? He was right; it was one day, even if there were only a finite amount. But if he allowed himself that one day, then that paved the way for more wasted days, for more ignorance to exist in his absence, for his reliability to waver—
As a matter of fact, he knew where this was coming from. It was a frequent point of contention in their arguments. He knew he had an issue with people-pleasing, with overextending, even if the average person would’ve thought otherwise after a conversation with him.
Aventurine knew him better than that, though. His words from their last big disagreement rang through his head.
“The only one holding you to this impossible standard is you.”
Veritas grit his teeth and shook his head, pacing back and forth across the room impatiently, before the nausea forced him to dry heave and sit back down on the bed.
He was right. He knew Aventurine was right, he knew he pushed himself too hard and too far too often. It was why he was constantly exhausted, why he was sick now, why he still didn’t know the names of Aventurine’s beloved pets, even when they already loved Veritas more than their owner. It was why he couldn’t show vulnerability, why he couldn’t just relax, and certainly why he couldn’t remember the name or location of a simple event Aventurine had told him about months ago.
What kind of partner was he?
His chest felt strangely tight as he stared down at his schedule, brow drawn tight with stress.
Good morning, students.
Unexpectedly, I have fallen ill and cannot attend either of my lectures this afternoon. My return will be announced with a follow-up email depending on my recovery time. Rest assured, I will cover all material missed in my absence.
Sincerely,
Professor Ratio
He stared at the message so foreign to him for a long, hard few minutes before he sent it out to both lecture groups, then composing a similar message for his colleague.
After he sent the second email, he dropped his phone on the bed and laid back, feeling the dizzying nausea take over.
Too tired to fight back anymore, Veritas slipped into a dizzy sleep.
—
“I’m tired of this.” Aventurine grabbed his coat, slinging a bag over his shoulder with a final smoldering look over his shoulder. “You can keep nosediving all you want, but I’m not going to watch you crash.” Those eyes, normally so hard to read, were glinting with exhaustion, with resignation, with love.
He’d never seen Aventurine look so defeated before.
Veritas shot awake with a gasp, a lurch, and then slapped a hand over his mouth before he fumbled his way to the bathroom just in time.
He heaved and a rush of yellow bile surged out of him. Each time he hunched over, he produced more, until finally the cramping and seizing in his stomach stopped and he sank to the side.
He waited until his breathing evened out to move, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the counter until he felt okay again.
‘Okay’ being a loose term for how he was really feeling.
Bile was a sign that he needed to eat. If he kept putting off food, he’d never recover.
He tried not to think about the dream.
Veritas pushed himself to his feet, flushed the toilet, and rinsed his mouth thoroughly before brushing his teeth to rid his mouth of the taste and any lingering germs.
Then, he wandered his way into the kitchen, electing to pick a few ingredients here and there to prepare a stock for himself.
To stave off the hunger, he forced down a simple banana since it was easy on a sick stomach.
Once that immediate need was taken care of, he began to chop up his vegetables - celery, carrots, garlic, onion, anything he could find in the pantry that went well in a nutritious soup - and fetched a container of store-bought chicken and bone broth from the refrigerator.
Homemade was best, but he didn’t exactly have a chicken carcass to slow cook just sitting around. He grabbed a large pot, set it on the stove, and…er…
Veritas lifted his head with a groan as his eyes rolled and slowly opened, blearily looking around the bathroom he was still collapsed in.
Had he fallen back asleep?
He felt so awful. His stomach was cramping and howling with hunger, his head was throbbing, his mouth still tasted of bile…he forced himself to his feet, still maintaining that he was awake due to how difficult of an action that proved to be, and slowly, sloppily rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth.
A proper job would be better, but he didn’t have the luxury of proper cognition in his current state.
Once that was done, he slunk off to bed, crawling into the sheets and fumbling amongst them for his phone.
He felt terrible. He wanted comfort, to feel better, to know peace again. He wanted Aventurine’s easy smiles and playful jabs, not strained grins and arguments. He wanted to feel good about himself. He wanted to let his walls down, just a bit.
Maybe he could, if he just…grabbed his phone.
You’re being a burden, Veritas. His instincts were screaming at him to stop, to let it go, to push through like always.
Shakily, he dialed the only phone number he had seared into his memory.
He’s working. He can’t drop everything and help you.
He pressed the phone to his ear, eyes slipping shut as he pinched the bridge of his brow, face beginning to feel warm. To tingle.
“Is that my favorite Doctor calling me?” Aventurine sounded so pleased to hear from him.
How often had he called before this?
“Please forgive me. I-I don’t know why I’m calling you.” Yes, he did. His normally structured voice sounded strained coming out, like a marble statue beginning to crumble at the very base. “I appear to have fallen ill. Your pets are fine. Fed. I…” His voice trailed off. Aventurine still hadn’t said anything, but he could hear his steady breaths on the other end. “I’m sure you have priorities, so…”
“Are you okay?” That pleased tone shifted to concern. “Veritas?”
“Y-yes. I’m fine.”
This wasn’t how he wanted it to go. He was doing it again - evading, reporting things instead of just talking.
So he spoke more, watery tears blurring his vision and streaking down the sides of his face as he stared at the ceiling.
“Actually, I-I feel…” He forced himself to keep talking, despite the shaking inflection and wavering tone. “I feel as though I’ve been failing you for a while now. You’ve been communicating this to me, a-and- and I haven’t listened. I’ve listened to nothing but the sound of my own voice and what I believe is best for myself for so long. I haven’t allowed you in. I haven’t been a good partner to you.” He paused, voice quiet. “Aventurine, I’m sorry.”
Then, he said words he never thought he’d ever tell another human being in his life. Something he never thought he would allow himself to ask for, not when he had so much to give, so much to do for others.
How dare he ask when he could instead keep giving?
“I need you here with me. I-I can’t- do this. Not without you.”
Silence hung over the other end of the phone, and he felt his chest ache.
“Please.”
“…I’m coming home.” Why did Aventurine sound so calm? Was it resignation? Was he too late?
Had he done the wrong thing?
Now that he’d broken invisible bounds, Veritas felt as though he were floundering in unknown territory. He didn’t know how to feel.
Anxiety ate away at him more than his hunger. His throat was dry from talking- or was that from stress? His breaths shuddered and he reached up to wipe his eyes, feeling foolish - but certainly feeling…lighter.
When his hand came down, he startled, feeling something plush and soft beneath his hand.
A cat cake?
The calico mewed at him quietly, meekly staring at him as he gazed back in confusion.
“I’ve fed you,” he stated. The cat cake simply began to purr and closed its eyes, snuggling up to his side as a warm body.
A few meows later, and both of its siblings were joining them on the bed, the black one resting atop his chest while the grey sidled up under his arm.
“…I see,” he said, voice a little raw with emotion. “Thank you.”
Veritas closed his eyes, his racing heart slowing gradually as the warm, purring bodies soothed his thoughts and allowed him to properly relax.
What was to come would come. He had made his bed long ago, and it was past time he lay in it.
With that thought in his mind, he slipped into a restful sleep.
—
Veritas awoke to the sound of mewling, and the gentle touch of fingers and then a palm against his forehead.
His eyes fluttered open, heart rate spiking when he registered the sight of Aventurine above him. He immediately tried to sit up.
“…Kava-”
“Easy, now. No need to rush. You’ve got me all to yourself, just like you wanted.” The blond winked at him with a surprisingly tender smile as he fondly stroked the professor’s hair, easing him back down onto the bed. “We can talk when you’re feeling better.”
“…alright,” he conceded, mostly due to the fact that he still felt miserable. He could smell Aventurine’s cologne, and though the musk should have made him nauseated, it simply soothed his nerves. Familiarity. Peace. Well- perhaps not ‘peace’, with someone like Aventurine, but as close to it as he could get.
“Now…have you eaten anything?” Veritas shook his head. “Okay. Let’s take care of that first.”
Aventurine revealed a plastic sack, wiggling it in the air a little so the slosh of the liquid in the bagged container could be heard. He set it down on the nightstand before helping stack some pillows for Veritas to sit upright properly. All the while, the cat cakes stayed snuggled up to him where they could manage; two stacked next to him, and one in his lap.
Aventurine opened up the soup - which he couldn’t smell, but knew from glancing over that it was his favorite restaurant. A brilliant soup with extra lemon wedges on the side, just like he always ordered.
His chest hurt.
Did he know Aventurine’s favorite meal?
He knew that Aventurine had an extensive palette, but that he preferred simpler flavors. A fondness that he carried from childhood.
But a favorite meal…
“Open up.” His knee-jerk reaction was to crisply remark that he could feed himself, thank you very much, but he halted himself from speaking when his mouth opened, somewhat accidentally obeying the request.
The mishap was worth watching the way Aventurine’s eyes lit up a hundred times over. He accepted the spoonful, closing his eyes and letting the vague flavors - curse his clogged sinuses - dance over his tongue as he swallowed. He ate that way, luxuriating in being fed like an infant, and was content to admit that he actually…quite enjoyed the intimate gesture. It was nice, being cared for.
His eyes opened again to see Aventurine admiring him, a smile on his face plain as day.
“You seem happy,” he remarked. The blond chuckled softly.
“Maybe I’m just happy taking care of you.”
Veritas’s face felt warm, both with shame and affection. Was this really all he wanted?
Aventurine set down the half-empty container - which was about all Veritas had the stomach for, anyway - and stood, turning to head into their…closet?
He watched curiously as the blond fished out a bottle of liquid and a measuring cap from a duffle bag on the top shelf - the one he’d had with him on his trip.
“What is that?”
“Mmm…just trust me. Old family recipe.” He grinned slightly. “Promise it doesn’t taste bad.”
Veritas eyed the bottle and liquid as it poured into the cup suspiciously, before closing his eyes with a small breath.
Even if it didn’t help, it would mean more to Aventurine if he tried it at all. Besides…what was there to be wary of? He trusted his lover completely.
As promised, the taste was…pleasant. Minty and herbal, but not bitter in the slightest. Veritas drank the dose without questioning him, handing the cup back once he was finished.
“It should help with the fever, at least. It’s just tea made from a poultice my sister taught me how to make. I always keep a little on me.” Aventurine shrugged slightly and glanced away, something he always did when something carried more weight than he was letting on.
This tea was a memorial item and a cure-all both.
“You’ll have to teach me the recipe sometime,” he said gently, relaxing his head back against the pillows.
Aventurine didn’t respond, simply brushed some violet hair from Veritas’s face and watched him briefly with a loose smile.
Veritas gazed back into his eyes until he felt he could no more from the intensity of the moment, his stare dropping instead to the cat cake in his lap.
Shamefully, quietly, he asked, “…would you remind me of their names?”
“That’s Clover.” The calico in his lap mewled and jiggled in her sleep.
“On top is Club, the greedier one.” The black cake swatted at nothing in the sheets, as the gray snoozed quietly beneath it. “And sleeping beauty is Spade.” Aventurine reached down to pat Clover. “They like you more, don’t you think?”
“Clover certainly does,” he murmured, watching the calico fondly. “The other two seem more aloof in general.”
“Mm. Guess you’re right.”
Perhaps the tea had been a help, because he felt a little clearer in the head as they spoke quietly and he rested.
He felt well enough to push the topic again, at least.
“I’m sorry, Kava.” He grimaced before he looked back up at his lover. “I feel as though calling you here may have been a mistake.”
Aventurine’s face shifted slightly, but not enough for him to properly identify the emotion. “Why do you say that?” he asked calmly.
“I don’t…want you to be under the impression that I called you here simply because I am ill. I am not…” He hesitated, then tried again. “For you to feel as though you must come to tend to me…I would hate that. I-I truly do want to fix this, to- to mend what I’ve been failing to listen to. I-mmph?”
Lips met his unexpectedly, softly and gently, before Aventurine leaned back with that smile back on his face.
“I-I-” Veritas floundered for a moment, face red. “You’ll - catch what I’ve got,” he sputtered.
“Sounds like you’ll get to repay the favor, then, if it means so much to you.” The blond shifted, uncrossing his legs and leaning closer to the bed.
“Don’t make it complicated. All I want is for you to lean on someone. Me, preferably.” His smile widened. “And to think, my good Doctor figured it out all on his own. All it took was a little cold.”
Flustered and emotional, Veritas simply nodded quietly, feeling his chest swell with warmth. To be forgiven so easily…to be given such an affectionate smile despite his misgivings and mistakes…was that unconditional love?
He knew he loved Aventurine, that he would work with him on any issue he may have developed over time, that he would want to forgive and move on before ever giving up and letting him go. He knew that, and openly offered it to his lover, but it felt so difficult to accept it for himself when he had been so unreliable, so stony and resistant to begin with.
However, he knew that the only thing capable of altering his view was change itself. He was going to have to consciously make an effort to be more open, to be less resistant to taking time for himself and his family, to stop pushing himself so hard.
Or else this would have been for nothing.
Or else that dream…could truly happen.
“Thank you,” he said suddenly, reaching for Aventurine’s hand and squeezing once he had it in his grasp.
Aventurine simply smiled back at him, eyes glowing with everything he wanted to say. There was no need for words.
He felt everything in just that one look.