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This has been a long, long time coming, but Porthos feels like it's inevitable. After all their conversations about it, Porthos has finally bundled up Aramis and pushed him along to the gym when Oliver is bound to be there, knowing that he's going to take it easy today, because today isn't about him. "Here he is," Porthos announces as he delivers Aramis to Ollie with a smirk, heading for one of the benches with the book he'd brought (as if he's really going to keep his nose in it the whole time).
"Now," he says. "Aramis here wants to learn a few moves so he can attempt to beat me," he says, his smile sweet and devilish at once. "And who better to teach him than you?"
He reclines back, foot propped up on the nearest chair. He does glance up after a moment, because he thinks he might have forgotten one or two things. And the biggest one is, "Try not to bruise up the face?" he suggests. "Or talk too much about me," he adds, as if that's not going to happen.
"Now," he says. "Aramis here wants to learn a few moves so he can attempt to beat me," he says, his smile sweet and devilish at once. "And who better to teach him than you?"
He reclines back, foot propped up on the nearest chair. He does glance up after a moment, because he thinks he might have forgotten one or two things. And the biggest one is, "Try not to bruise up the face?" he suggests. "Or talk too much about me," he adds, as if that's not going to happen.