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[du_vallon]

Porthos' whole mind has been a jumble since his trip to the station. He'd hauled someone for solicitation, yanking him off the corner from where he'd been trying to proposition a girl who couldn't have been older than seventeen. Porthos isn't even sure what he'd been trying to get her to do, but knows none of it can be good. He'd dropped him off at the station and then had gone home, but his brain is a mess of thoughts, memories, and shame.

Years and years ago, it'd been him trying to make money no matter the way. He's confessed to Aramis, but they're with Athos now, too, and he needs to be able to be open and honest with him. It's just so hard because it brings him just that much closer to Athos' ex-wife, doesn't it?

Heading upstairs, he starts to root through Athos' cabinets for brandy, short on it himself. "Athos," he calls out, barely more than a mumble as he tries to avoid the hope that Athos isn't there. "You here?"

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[somepoorsoul]

“Porthos?” Athos peers out of his bedroom, surprised by the hesitance he can catch in the man’s voice. Usually, Porthos does everything with vehemence, and to see him uncertain is strange. Athos himself has been reading, and his hair is still mussed from his pillow as he joins Porthos in the kitchen. “Don’t you have your own drink?” he asks as he finds the bottle of brandy, though his face is full of fondness.

[du_vallon]

Porthos turns the bottle in his hands a few times, judging whether it will do the job. When he decides it will, he pours himself a heavy glass, staring at Athos for a long moment, his lips curving up in a smile as he reaches over to rub his thumb over the sleep-mussed marks and the hair. "You have better alcohol," is his fond reply, though some of the teasing falls away from it as he remembers what he's just done.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos huffs, but with a soft look and a gentle touch to Porthos shoulder, he pulls himself down a glass and pours his own generous share of brandy into it. “What is troubling you?” he asks idly, as though Porthos were not failing so spectacularly at hiding that something is wrong.

[du_vallon]

Porthos twists the cap on the bottle shut a few times more than's strictly necessary, staring down into the glass with a grimace. "I just brought in a kid who was on the street corner, trying to convince a young woman into having sex with him, for money," he says. "Brought him to the police, once I figured out what was going on."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos almost wishes he could be more surprised, but he has not developed the same faith in the progress of the modern world that some have. The only strange thing is the thought that a boy of that sort would try to make his coin off of women. He grimaces and sips his brandy, but still watches Porthos with a careful, puzzled eye. Distressing though it might be, surely he shouldn’t be shocked by such a discovery.

“Some kinds of desperation will never leave us, I fear."

[du_vallon]

Porthos rubs and rubs at the label of the bottle with his thumb, jaw tense as he stares at it. It'd been easier to tell Aramis this because Aramis has done things that might not be worse, but could be considered not too far off. But Athos? Athos is all honour and nobility, filled with esteem and good sense.

"What would you have done?" he wonders. "If you found a starved youth trying to sell sex for money?"

[somepoorsoul]

“What you did, I suppose.” Athos frowns faintly. “Bring him to the authorities and hope that he is allowed a more honorable path out of starvation.”

He sighs, albeit fondly. "If you have decided to rescue this boy, Porthos, I hope you give Aramis warning." Athos is fairly sure that this is not quite how any of them expected him to begin collecting strays. They have been talking so much about the complicated plans for a child of Aramis blood that Athos has not heard Porthos speak for some time of the children he wishes to adopt.

[du_vallon]

Porthos gives Athos a wary look, not sure how to broach this topic. "No, it's not that. I brought him in for arrest," he clarifies, but had hoped that they'd just give the boy a warm meal and send him away. It's his own guilty soul and past that he's worried about. "It's that he reminded me of something I thought I'd tucked away, back in Paris."

[somepoorsoul]

“The boy you once were,” Athos surmises. That would explain it, then. If there is one thing Porthos prefers to tiptoe around with care, it is memories of his childhood on the street. Though he still does not see why this particular unfortunate soul would prey on Porthos’ mind, Athos knows well that the things that trigger memories do not always make sense. He laces Porthos’ fingers in his own and squeezes gently, still watching him with gentle worry.

[du_vallon]

Porthos is grateful for the touch, but unsure he deserves it at the same time. He flexes his fingers in Athos' grasp, his other hand still tracing the sleep-mussed lines on his face. "Were you resting?" he asks, as if he's trying to avoid the questions and change the subject even though he already knows he must tell Athos the truth now.

[somepoorsoul]

As has so often become the case for him, Athos leans into the touch without any conscious realization that he has done so, following tenderness like a plant growing towards light. “Reading,” he answers, adding ruefully, “I have not spent so much time in idleness since I was a child.” He still watches Porthos with care, instinct telling him that there is something the man is not saying, but trusting that he will say what he needs to in his own time.

[du_vallon]

"You don't have to be idle, you know," Porthos points out. "We could take on more cases and clients at the office, if you want to run around until you're all mad with sweat and bright blue-eyed handsomeness," Porthos teases, smiling in a way that doesn't reach his eyes. "Maybe you could read to me, though," he says, half to himself, moving his fingers to Athos' hair to twine there momentarily.

"The kid couldn't have been more than seventeen, eighteen. And he was just trying to find a way out," he murmurs.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos ducks his head with a sheepish smile, as he so often does when Porthos showers him with eager compliments. “Half the clients only want to know if their spouses are unfaithful, and they usually are. That doesn’t require much running about.” It doesn’t do much to fulfil Athos’ longing for duty, either, though at least it earns them money.

He brushes his thumb along Porthos’ jaw, warming to the thought of reading to him, though still concerned by the man’s unusual reticence. “Perhaps he will,” he says of the lad, not because he thinks that is likely (though he wishes he did), but because he hopes to comfort Porthos in his obvious distress.

[du_vallon]

Exhausted beyond the telling of it from both drink and exercise, Porthos' return home is marked with a brief stop downstairs to greet Aramis and let him know where he'd be before he starts his climb upstairs, creeping into the closed bedroom with a cautious gait, hand resting on the door for a long moment. He sniffs as he looks at the Athos-sized lump in bed and tugs off his shirt to drape over a chair before he crawls in behind him.

He's had some time to work through the situation and think and while it'd taken a half hour of sweating on the stairclimber, he now understands that he should have stopped at Athos' first sign of genuine discomfort. He still worries that Athos is going to think them incompatible, given Porthos' bolstering cheer and demands, but he doesn't want this to be over before they even start. He slides tentative fingers over Athos' shoulder, testing whether he's awake. "Hey," he murmurs softly. "It's just me."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos is, indeed, still wide awake, though he has not bothered to turn on the light as the sun set and the room darkened. Beyond removing his boots, he is still dressed, and he stares sightlessly at the ceiling, mind still leaping from one unhappy thought to another, despite the liquor he has consumed.

He had not meant to get drunk, but it had been an easy thing to pour himself one brandy after another until the world went a little unfocused and his shame over his unexpected argument with Porthos softened to a dull ache of embarrassment. Now, with a bit of distance, Athos sees more clearly that Porthos had only gotten swept up in his enthusiasm, and of course had not meant to hurt him. Porthos never would. And yet he aches with the thought that there might be something wrong with him - with what he wants and does not – a fear that has already been lingering close to the surface. Perhaps Porthos would prefer someone who liked to be painted and bribed with tokens, someone, honestly, a bit more like Athos would have imagined men who enjoyed the company of other men to be.

Porthos’ footfalls are as familiar to him as his own breathing, and he instinctively shifts slightly on the bed to give him room to lie down. He doesn’t curl towards Porthos as has become his habit of late, unable to quite manage it, but he does hum softly and turn his head to look at him in the darkness.

[du_vallon]

Porthos does plenty of the curling up for him, easing into his space to gently slide his palm over Athos' shoulder and over his back as he nestles his nose in against his neck, hoping he doesn't smell too rank, but given their previous lives, he's been much worse. His breath is tinged with beer from what he's had at the bar, but he feels a lot more pliant and softer. "Sometimes, I can be a stubborn arse," he admits. "Can't I?"

[somepoorsoul]

The admission makes Athos soften, and even smile faintly. He presses his cheek to Porthos’ hair and closes his eyes. “Mm. From time to time.” A beat. “But so can I.”

[du_vallon]

Porthos shifts that much closer for the warmth of the invitation, eager to bridge the gap between them, even if he's sure he needs eye contact for what he's about to say. "I'm sorry I kept pushing. I'm so used to Aramis, who's willing to be mad in our schemes, but I'd be upset too if he kept pushing when it comes to the things I'm uncomfortable with," he admits.

"I'm sorry, Athos," he says sincerely, kissing his forehead. "What can I do to make it so you don't think we're not capable of working?"

[somepoorsoul]

"You are forgiven," Athos murmurs without a thought, closing his eyes. He takes a shaky breath, unsure how to answer the question, but pushed by drink and the gentle entreaty to speak his mind. "I wonder if you would not prefer someone more used to men and...such escapades. Perhaps someone more pliant." It is rather close to admitting that he fears he disappoints Porthos, and it makes him blush.

[du_vallon]

Porthos gives Athos a pained look, followed by a little sound that is all his pleas and desperation in one moment. "Athos, no," he insists, eyes wide with horror. "I thought maybe you'd think that I would be too pushy, when really we just need to figure each other's boundaries," he says, stomach turning with discomfort. "I didn't want you to want those escapades or be that man," Porthos says.

"I just wanted you to be with us, when we were in that moment doing something like that," he admits. "I shouldn't have pushed past watching."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos buries his face in Porthos’ neck, making a small sound of relief, and pain, and embarrassment. He is too drunk, and that has allowed too many emotions to linger shamefully close to the surface. “If you are certain,” he says, voice rough and feeling far too weak for comfort.

[du_vallon]

Porthos makes a noise of pain, the thought of losing Athos so soon after gaining him breaking his heart to the point he burrows into the embrace that much tighter, as if he can prevent losing it by holding onto it this fiercely. "I don't want to lose you," he murmurs fervently. "Athos, we might have different personalities, but we've all worked and it's because we know each other."

"Right now, I suspect we don't," he admits bluntly. "There are things that if done to me, I'd be a mess for days. Ask Aramis," he says. "I didn't realize it was the same for you with this, but I do now." He rubs his fingers up and down Athos' back. "I think maybe, we need a word, same as Aramis and I have."

"It's for when things go too far. That word and that word only stops it."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos snorts, baffled as to how Porthos can make something so simple sound so complicated. He pulls back slightly, looking at him hard, but the other man’s expression holds no answers as to what he might mean. Despite himself, he again becomes wary. “If I'm not interested, I will damned well tell you. I did tell you. I don’t need another game."

[du_vallon]

"It's not a game," Porthos replies, swallowing back his fear of Athos getting angry at him yet again. His face is earnest and a bit young. "It's one word because then it's not that I'm playing hard to get or I'm just teasing. When I say 'Cardinal', he stops," Porthos says, inching away from Athos at the notion of that being a game to him, when it's been the very notion that keeps him feeling safe and secure.

"Athos, we chased you for a very long time," Porthos says quietly. "If we stopped when you told us you weren't interested, we wouldn't be together right now. We do have to push you, to a degree. So yes, I need a word," he admits. "Maybe I'm thick that way, but I do."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos is far too drunk for this. He rolls onto his back and rubs a hand over his eyes, and though he tries to grasp the sense in what Porthos says, the idea only leaves him cold. He has never heard of such a thing; it goes against everything he imagined them to be. Now, he thinks of the days when they could communicate with barely a gesture, and he aches for the ease of that relationship - not one of lovers, perhaps, but of friends of greater understanding than he has ever known. What happened?

Sex, he supposes.

And then there is the fact that he is already so terrifyingly out of his depth much of the time that the thought of being nudged further along, no matter how well-meaningly, makes him a bit ill. He likes the way they spend their time in bed together - no, he craves it - but he isn’t ready for more than that. “I do not want to be pushed any longer,” Athos says, voice raw and ashamed. “Not for now. Consider that your word."