du_vallon | (no subject)

(no subject)

Wearing the scarf that had been purchased for him last year, Porthos has managed to recreate his outfit as best as he could. It's not exact and it's hardly the same (honestly, he doesn't remember much about the night beyond the scarf, the food, and Aramis bending down on one knee while the land passed by). It's all those things he's glad to recreate as he settles onto their table on the boat, fidgeting as if he's expecting yet another proposal.

Like an eager child at a party, Porthos' eyes are casting about everywhere they can, desperate to find the waiter for champagne, though he remembers to check in with Aramis, because being at sea (even so limited) can't be enjoyable for him. "Are you okay?" he murmurs quietly. "Should I get you something stronger to get your mind off the water?"

He's practically bouncing from eagerness, so happy to be back as he is.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I can only hope that future isn't what's going to happen to me," is his response, blinking owlishly as he imagines such a terrible future occurring to him. "I know I'm a bit of a bath pillow for you, but I'd like to imagine that you aren't intending to abuse me like that. At least, not in any way I don't ask for," he adds, wrapping an arm around him to tug him back.

Aramis grins, sinking deep into the water, body resting gloriously against Porthos' skin. "Certainly not," he agrees. "Although, we did break it in the midst of an enthusiastic, deviant act, so perhaps I may be forgiven."

Porthos grins up at Aramis from where he's lounging, only too pleased to stare up at him. "I'm shocked we haven't broken more items in our deviant acts," he confesses. "Actually, I'm beyond shocked you haven't gone and broken my cock, given how often I'm to wield it in you."

Aramis raises a brow, splashing him with a few bubbles. "If I am to leave your cock alone, you have only to say, but it would be such a pity to keep my hands to myself on our anniversary."

Porthos' grin turns wicked as he stares at Aramis. "You misunderstand me," he says, seizing him by the waist to yank him in closer. "That just means we aren't trying hard enough to break me," he goes on, a low growl in his voice.

Aramis laughs with pure delight, in love with the hard, slippery grip to his hips. He leans in and kisses Porthos, sucking gently at his bottom lip. "It is a fine line to walk," he says, "And I would be honored to discover what breaks you."

He noses at Aramis' neck before he's drawn into the kiss, thrusting his hips up in an attempt to get closer to him. "Could you imagine you having to explain that to the doctors? To Athos?" he says, joyfully as he leans in for a long kiss. "Would they put a cast on my cock?"

"I believe they do," says Aramis, for he has begun to read texts in anticipation of learning to ride in their thunderwagons, and the maladies humans can visit upon themselves seem endless.

"I will always take extra caution with yours," he promises. "I love it too much to see it broken and hidden away."

Porthos laughs at the image, peering down into the water and leaning forward (his body and Aramis' together) in order to glance at his cock, imagining the plaster they'd need. "Good man," he praises, leaning up for a kiss. He sinks back into the water comfortably. "Are we just soaking? Or should I put my cock to good use?"

Aramis hums, drifting after Porthos' mouth when it leaves his for yet another kiss. "I will never get enough of them," he murmurs, dragging his nose against Porthos' cheek. "And in my opinion," he adds, hips hitching back against Porthos' groin, "A cock as fine as yours should always be put to use."

Porthos grins as he slides his fingers a little lower to spread Aramis' arse-cheeks a touch, testing lightly as he licks his lips and hums thoughtfully. "And here we are with the opportunity to put it to the best use," he says cheerfully, always happy to look on the positive side.

"In this huge bath," says Aramis, head tipped back against Porthos' shoulder so he can mouth at his throat, "It would be so easy. Already slippery and wet, with the water to buoy me. I could ride you so slowly," he murmurs. "Drive us both mad."

Porthos shivers, biting his lower lip as the want courses through him like nothing he's felt in ages (well, that's a lie, because he's felt it only a few minutes ago and always feels it with Aramis). "I think it'd be perfect," he agrees, goosebumps showing up on his arms.

"You want to?"

"Of course," Aramis murmurs, grinning as he feels Porthos tremble against him. "I want everything with you, always." He kisses the flush of want creeping over Porthos' cheek. "Open me up?"

Porthos' cheeks must be ruddy with pink from his want, but he gives Aramis a hopeful look as he eases his fingers slowly down Aramis' spine again, trailing easily. "Are we to attempt face to face, even in this water?"

"Fortune does favor the bold," replies Aramis, shifting in an attempt to get Porthos' fingers on him more firmly. "We may as well try, and if we fail, a nest of fluffy towels does not seem a terrible place to continue the attempt."

Porthos grins as he tries to get a better hold on Aramis, but he keeps slipping away in the water, despite how much he tries to grab him. In the end, he ends up wrapping his arm around the small of his back to hold tight. "I like the idea of a nest of fluffy towels. I should do all my work from there."

"Naked," says Aramis, warming to the idea. He wraps his knees around Porthos' hips to help steady himself. "Where I can watch, pillowed on the towels myself." He grins. "This is beginning to sound like morning yoga."

Porthos shakes his head, a delighted smirk on his face. "Is there anything you wouldn't like to see me doing, nestled in a nest of pillows?" he points out dubiously, smirking. "Darling, you're predictable. I love it."

"If you could see yourself through my eyes you would not blame me," says Aramis, kissing each of Porthos' dimples when he smiles that glorious smile of his. "I see now why the wealthy always commissioned great portraits of their loved ones. Your image ought to live forever, even if it is in one of their museums."

"We already know your image is going to last forever in those ads of yours," Porthos points out, but he does like the thought of being in some of them himself. "You could always commission a painting of all three of us," he teases. "Hang it on the bedroom wall to forever stare at us. Or I could just take some very personal photos for you."

"Why not both?" asks Aramis with a sly grin. "I do like the idea of our portrait," he muses, squeezing Porthos with his knees. "Of the three of us, before a child comes and changes our lives forever. Do you think Athos would sit for it?"

Porthos thinks that maybe, it might happen. Then again, La Fere is sort of a reason to believe that it might not convince him. "How about we take a lot of photographs of him and frame them in a big collage?" he suggests, if Athos won't sit for the portrait.

"That does not seem quite so regal," says Aramis with a frown, but if it is the best they can manage, it will have to do. "I will try very hard to convince him," he says. "I like the thought of us together so much, preserved in our handsome youth to the end of our days."

"He ripped the one at La Fere," he quietly reminds Aramis, not having realized it until later what the pictures had been. "But we can talk to him and suggest it, though I have no idea what sort of painting it would be. In our uniforms, I think, but isn't that a touch boastful?"

So, perfect for Aramis and himself, but poor for Athos.