du_vallon | (no subject)

(no subject)

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 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."

Porthos gives Aramis a curious look as he lets out a cry of sheer joy at the touch, amazed by how much contact the blanket gives that's brand new. "We could...we could do that," he gets out breathlessly. "I'm sure there's someone here that would be happy to watch us. His name's Athos," is what he gets out, in between moans of Aramis' name.

Aramis chuckles, certain that if anyone has the will to watch and not to touch, it is Athos. "I would like that," he says, pushing the blanket aside to stroke Porthos with bare fingers now, one corner of the blanket lifted to drag across his collarbone.

"I wonder if we could ever move him to give us commands."

Porthos' heart beats faster for the thought of Aramis and him in bed, with Athos giving them commands while he watches and touches himself. He bites his lower lip as he lets his lashes flutter, moaning desperately. "I want that," he says, breathless. "About as much as I want your mouth on me."

"So rather a lot?" asks Aramis with another chuckle, for he knows how much Porthos loves his mouth on him. Even a fraction of his bliss would be enough to bring Aramis joy every time he sinks to his knees before him. He does it now, grinning up at Porthos from between his legs.

"It felt like this," he says, rubbing the blanket up Porthos' inner thighs, "When you dragged your head against me."

Porthos nods enthusiastically as his eyes focus on where Aramis is, rubbing the blanket over his bare skin and making him gasp. "You liked that, didn't you?" he replies, "Does that mean you don't like the feel of my curls at your thighs when you..." He can't bear to keep going because he's so distracted by what Aramis is doing. "No, don't answer, just k-keep going..."

"Absurd," Aramis murmurs, for of course he adores the tickling brush of Porthos' curls. He rubs his cheek against his cock, moving the blanket around to drag across Porthos' arse. "After, I may even insist on having this head of curls between my thighs."

Porthos grins widely, knowing that he would definitely be happy to give Aramis that. "I'll get you by the window, make you stand right there and then go down on you, just like this," he says, licking his lips as he moans again, the blanket giving him new sensations. "God, Aramis, please," he whines.

"More?" asks Aramis sweetly, pulling the edge of the blanket between Porthos' legs. "Of this?" he asks, caressing Porthos' heavy balls with the soft wool, already drawn up tight to his body. "Or this?" he asks, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the head of Porthos' cock.