du_vallon | (no subject)

This is not even close to the bachelor party that Porthos had in mind when he'd started to plan for this -- or, rather, allowed Allison and Courfeyrac to do most of the planning while he and Aramis offered suggestions. The morning of, he'd woken up and taken one look down to find himself still in his female form. Two full days to the wedding and he's not back to normal. It's starting to get worrying.

At least there's the promise of a great deal of alcohol tonight, though. He goes about the usual business through the day. Heads to the gym, opens the business for a few hours, heads up to Kagura just to check on the reception, and when evening rolls around, he puts himself together in things all borrowed in order to feel a little closer to home. True, none of his own uniform fits, but the stolen pieces of others do.

It's why Porthos shows up to the bachelor party in a pair of comfortable shorts that he'd taken from Allison, Aramis' boots, with d'Artagnan's scarf worked in as a belt. He's got on a white tank top that he'd shrunk in the wash, comfortable under Athos' stolen doublet. And he's made sure not to leave Constance out by borrowing an earring for his piercing. He might not be himself, but he'll be damned if he's going to feel like that.

And now, he's happy to stand at the door of the club with a tray of shots (having already had one or two), gesturing for people to come inside and join. He's not entirely sure what a night like this is supposed to be like, but he figures alcohol and good friends never goes wrong.

So let the bachelor party begin.

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"Take it back to your husband to be. Pull him in close," Sawyer suggests, demonstrating as he reaches out and brings his hand down to the small of Porthos' back, spanning generously across with his long fingers. "Long as you've both got the rhythm, the rest is whatever you wanna make of it. Can't tell you how many times I've gotten lucky by being able to hold a beat."

He grins. "Not that you'd know it anymore with how often I get out of the apartment."

Porthos cranes his neck up curiously (already resolved to do this and so much more with Aramis at the first chance he gets). "What's so great about your apartment that's keeping you there? Because if it's Clem, I can see why," he jokes, but there's a thread of seriousness in it, his face softening to think of kids. "I already figure when we have our first, I won't see Aramis for a year for all the time he'll spend with the child."

"Definitely the girls. Clem's my kid by birth, but I've also got another little girl staying with me. She showed up here without either of her parents and was livin' at the group home, which... wasn't really the best place for her," Sawyers says, shaking his head slightly. "Ain't a terrible place or anything, but I like to think she's enjoyed livin' with a little sister 'round. And you know, I ain't one of those dads who loves dropping every moment for them, but it feels like the right thing to do. If I'm gonna be a dad, I might as well do it right, or not do it at all."

"That's what I want to do," Porthos admits, a fond and somewhat far-off look on his face as Sawyer talks. "Take in kids that don't have a good lot in life, try and make it better. Sort of making up for my own childhood," he says. "And I wouldn't know what being a good dad looks like, either way, so I bet you're good at it, just because you do care so much," he insists intently.