du_vallon | (no subject)

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With the bribe of a nice dinner, Porthos had managed to get Aramis to come out appliance shopping with him, eager to find something for the house even though it's not going to be a while before they need to fill it with anything. Part of him is just pleased to poke around and see what they've got, admiring features he doesn't really need but sound wonderful to have. "Here," he says distractedly, but frowns when he hears Aramis' phone going off.

Athos wouldn't call them unless it's an emergency, but after their last few appointments at the agency (with lawyers and surrogates and contracts), he's been nervous every time he hears the phone ring. Stopping and freezing where he stands, gripping Aramis by the shoulder hard, his eyes widen in hope.

"Aramis, maybe it's...?" he trails off, not daring to truly believe.

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"Perhaps we can hang it in the closet then," says Aramis, lifting the horse that looks like Hirondelle protectively. "We can open the doors whenever we wish to look, and avoid the Captain's prying paws the rest of the time."

Porthos likes the suggestion. He grins as he leans over to kiss Aramis for the thoughtfulness of it, getting up so he can fetch the tools he keeps in order to assemble the motor. It does end up a complicated thing, but fifteen minutes later, he leans over to plug it into the outlet, holding it up as it alights and begins to spin and dance.

"Well? You think it'll make her want to be a Musketeer?"

"It makes me want to be a Musketeer," says Aramis, staring up at it in delight, "And I am one." He beams at Porthos. "It's wonderful, Porthos. She'll be too enraptured to ever cry."

Porthos grins as he stares at it, watching the shapes it paints on the nearby wall. It really is a beautiful thing and he's glad they've bought it, even if it won't serve much use for nearly a year (or possibly more, depending on how things progress). "I'll put this in the closet to hang while you fetch out our new blankets," he coaxes.

"Alright," Aramis agrees, but as he stands he has half a mind to follow Porthos and the mobile, nearly as enraptured as their daughter will be, but he manages to move towards the blankets. He takes them both and rubs each against his cheek in turn. "How have we avoided owning these before?" he wonders.

Porthos gets the mobile securely tucked away with their suits and other fancy wear before returning back to Aramis. "Maybe because we'd probably ruin them?" he suggests. "Mess them up after having the inevitable nightly activities we engage in?" he adds, with a teasing smirk as he takes one of the blankets and rubs it lower, down over Aramis' torso and waist.

Aramis grins. "That would feel better with my shirt off," he notes, taking a corner of the blanket to rub against Porthos' shoulder, bared by his tank top. "It's a bit like when your head was shorn," he says, "All velvety soft against my skin."

Porthos sets the blankets aside to grasp at Aramis' shirt, yanking it up and over his head, shoving it to the floor so he can repeat the same motion, but this time with the blanket on bare skin. "Enjoy this," he advises. "Because I'm not planning on shaving my head anytime soon. I just got my curls to the length I like," he says, of the long curl they have now.

"Perhaps you'll be so tired when the child comes that you won't want to style your hair," suggests Aramis, humming with pleasure for the rub of the blanket against his skin. "Of course, you'd be too tired for sex, then, so nevermind. I'll simply have to request this of you from time to time."

"I think it's more that you'd be so tired," Porthos reminds him fondly, given that Porthos hasn't really done his own hair in months. On the days Aramis isn't around, he lets it go frizzy and fluffy, curls sticking up on end. He steps in closer to press the blanket against Aramis' skin all that bit more, a devilish smirk on his face. "When the baby is little, I think we might have to miss a lot of sex."

"I believe we will find a way," says Aramis stubbornly, though he wonders that he will be able to sleep at all, if not from the child's cries, then from his own relentless excitement. He hooks his fingers in the hem of Porthos' pants, pulling him and that blanket closer. "And I will never neglect your beautiful curls."

Porthos grins as he steps in with the tug. "No? I don't know. I'm very dashing when I've nothing but frizzy hair. I look a bit like a brigand or a true pirate," he says, eyeing Aramis up and down with adoration as he leans in to kiss him slowly. "You'll learn to do it in your sleep," he teases softly against Aramis' lips.

"If we will be as busy as all the books and forums say, then that might be the only time left to me," agrees Aramis with a laugh, kissing Porthos again. "It will be such a strange time, spending all my moments with my family, yet never getting to touch you enough, hold the baby enough, tease Athos from his glowering enough."

"Maybe it'll be easier for us because there's three of us?" Porthos suggests hopefully, kneading his fingers into Aramis' shoulders to try and relax him. "I mean, there's more of us to split the work around, which means more sleep, right? Though, I suppose we'll all have to keep on working."

"One can sleep while the others look after things," says Aramis, his grin softening with bliss as Porthos' fingers work. He drops his chin, nosing Porthos' tanktop aside to mouth at his throat. "I am not leaving Athos alone with an infant, for both their sake."

"You realize he and a child will be left alone at some point," Porthos points out. "Whether a baby or a foster child, Athos is going to have to learn how to at least exist and breathe the same air as the baby," he says, licking his lips as Aramis works at his neck, letting out a whiny sound.

"That's why we give him a thorough practicing first," Aramis answers, following Porthos' breathy little sounds to the sweet spots beneath his lips. He pushes his fingers beneath the tanktop to the small of Porthos' back. "Always with one or both of us before we unleash a child on him alone."

Porthos' breath starts to go shaky for where Aramis is touching now, swallowing back his moan as he leans into the touch a little harder. "I know we're talking about something I want," he says, "but I'm really distracted in that you're wearing clothes, still."

"As are you," Aramis murmurs, rubbing his fingertips just hard enough to catch at Porthos' skin, his mouth open to suck the tender flesh of his throat between his lips. "We really ought to remedy that, for both of us."

Porthos works his fingers between them to start unbuttoning Aramis' trousers, determined as anything to work them loose and get him naked. He shoves them down, thieving the blanket to slide over Aramis' hips, then his lower stomach, teasing just above his cock. "All that time spent naked around each other at the garrison not looking," he laments. "I was always scared you'd catch me out, so I always averted my eyes."

"Not I," says Aramis with a shameless grin. "I looked my fill and was never the sorrier for it. Well," he admits, throwing his arms around Porthos' neck to pull them close, that damnably soft blanket caught between them. "Left a touch wanting, perhaps."

Porthos grins as he moves his hand down a touch lower to rub the blanket in teasing circles now against the 'v' of Aramis' hips, biting his lip as he coaxes him flush against him. "You know what we never did?" he brings up. "We never went in together at a brothel, with the same girl. That would have been dangerous," he says knowingly.

"Perilous," Aramis agrees, shuddering as their bodies pull flush together. His fingers work at undoing the clasp on Porthos' own trousers to bring them down. "I hate to do a disservice to any young lady, but I would have had eyes only for you behind closed doors."

Porthos pants a little harder as his trousers start to slide down, thoughts of their future bright in his mind as he imagines it all and what they could have. "I feel like she still would've wound up between the two of us, for all that we could bear to share for a moment," he admits. "Until I started to kiss you, instead."

"We would pay her double for her silence," Aramis replies, but he hums. "I quite like the idea of being watched," he says, wrapping his hand in the blanket and wrapping that in turn around Porthos' cock. "Particularly with you."