Unprompted, without meaning to, Porthos exhales a sharp puff of breath for the name spoken in his ear like that. "I'm starting to think you carry around our wedding photos with you, that full book," he teases with a wry smirk. "Not that I mind. You were the handsomest thing I've ever seen in your suit that day, with Athos only a remote second." He runs his thumb slowly over the curve of Aramis' collarbone, now, eager as he is to touch him. "I'm already wooed, dear. You managed that years ago."