du_vallon | (no subject)

"Porthos!" exclaims Aramis in delight, watching from the couch as Porthos lets himself inside. It's true, they are more bottles in than Aramis anticipated, but with Lito's extensive knowledge of soap operas there has been so much to talk about, and they have both been thirsty.

"Lito has come for dinner," he says, nodding to his companion. "That's alright, isn't it?"

The alcohol has done an excellent job of numbing Lito to some of his worries and the need to put on a show. It's made it so that when Aramis' husband returns, he is not under the impression that he must act shocked or surprised at two men being married, because he's used to living with another man. Still, he had not prepared himself for what the husband looks like.

"You didn't mention him being so big," Lito remarks in Spanish, a touch awed and somewhat amazed. More than that, there is the troubling problem of his beard and curls creating a void that he can fit Hernando into.

And then there is the cooking.

Porthos has been trying to learn Spanish, he really has, only he's also still learning English and he can really only do one at a time. So he's got the basics of Spanish down, but that many words and that rapid-fire sort of loses any meaning, which means that Porthos is left unpacking the bags, confused, and feeling a touch on display for the way he's being stared at. "I'll just find something in the fridge to pad the meal. Plus, I think Athos is on a job until later," he admits.

"What? No glass for me? Or welcome home?" he teases Aramis mildly, leaning into the familiarity to avoid feeling wary about the stares.

"Isn't he?" says Aramis to Lito. "Like a mountain I will never tire of climbing." He turns brightly to Porthos, catching his hand when he is close enough to drag him close for a short kiss of greeting.

"There is a glass on the counter," he says, for it is true, though not yet poured, as Aramis wasn't certain when Porthos would be home. "Lito was just telling me that he might be able to help me get a small role on Space Hospital. Space Hospital!"

Lito does not flush, but only because he has been acting for many years and knows better than to be so embarrassed around his friends. Still, there are small signs of his discomfort, from the way small beads of sweat appear at his temples, his dry lips, and the way his eyes linger on said mountain of a man. The image now makes him imagine such a thing, but thank god, there is no interest because he has never been interest in bulky men.

Unfortunately, he is not so blind as to ignore the well-sculpted ass and the curls...well, the curls are having an effect. "Once I get into the business myself," he clarifies, "then I will be able to recommend him. I do not know, though," he adds jokingly. "He is almost too handsome to be on the screen with me."

Porthos happily ignores their guest for a moment to indulge in the kiss, grinning as he wraps his fingers in Aramis' collar to tug him back for just a touch of a longer one. "See, Aramis? Even he thinks you're too pretty," Porthos jests with a smirk, finding one of the bottles that isn't empty to pour himself a glass. "Lito, right? I'm making fish tacos for dinner. Hope that's okay."

"A burden I have long since learned to live with," says Aramis, leaning against the side of the couch to watch Porthos' journey to the wine. "With ceviche?" he asks, still grinning, but some of his mirth fades when he turns to look at Lito again.

"Are you well?" he asks, for Lito is a little paler than before, and it does not look right on his handsome golden skin.

Ceviche only makes him go paler at the suggestion of it, but Lito tries to stomach that worry and push past it, because he does not need to think too long and hard about all the things he no longer has. "Yes," he says, too quickly. "Yes, of course. The wine," he says as he grasps hold of a bottle to make his excuses. "I can't drink like I used to. Only the wine," he says, but he closes his eyes a touch longer than he means to, watching this Porthos work around the kitchen, his dark head of hair the only thing visible at times and it takes all his strength not to let out a heartbroken sound for how reminiscent of home it is.

"Not everyone can drink like us," Porthos boasts smugly from where he's unearthing a few dishes, glancing up when he's through to locate his own wine. He sips at it, glancing over at Aramis and then their suddenly paler guest, wondering if he's done something to offend him. "I didn't know you wanted to become an actor now, too," he says, to Aramis.

"Not truly," Aramis answers, rising to fetch Lito a glass a water to go with his wine. "But one cannot help be excited to hear Lito speak of acting. He loves his craft." He smiles at them both, leaving the glass next to Lito's hand before he sits again.

He has not missed the way their guests eyes seem to glance off his husband, each look making him paler than before. "Something troubles you about my husband," he says quietly, and has to hope that Porthos will forgive them the foreign tongue, but he has a feeling Lito would like the privacy. "What is it?"

Lito shakes his head aggressively, though he knows that will likely not do him any good. The more he protests, the more something will seem the matter, and yet he cannot prevent himself from acting like this. He is unnerved, to say the least. "I told you, it's just the wine," he protests, but his heart aches with loneliness and it is not easy to see a man with such curls and such an excellent body puttering around a kitchen making ceviche of all things.

"It need not be a large role," he promises, picking up his glass to go sit at the counter and speak with this Porthos, to get away from Aramis' prying questions, mainly. "He could be a janitor. Or a patient."

Porthos watches the interplay between them, picking up enough Spanish to hear 'husband', but not much else. He works on digging out what he needs for the ceviche and the mango salsa, bowls set up on the table as he studies the both of them. "Don't give him the role of the patient. That feels a touch like bringing on bad luck."

Aramis watches Lito rise with a frown, sitting back to give Lito room to walk away from him, and raises a brow when he seats himself near Porthos instead. "Too many recent, unhappy memories," he agrees, twisting on the chaise so he does not have to strain to look at them.

"I would not like to be a janitor."

Lito breathes in sharply and misses the smell of Hernando's cologne and the way their kitchen always smelled. He misses the coffee in his hand and it reminds him that this isn't his home, but that of someone else. He feels lonely, presented with a happy couple, a man with another man, and all the things he'd been too cowardly to fight for.

"Maybe, then, a family member?" Lito suggests, giving Aramis a worried look. "What happened recently?"

Porthos doesn't want to go heavy into the details because to him, Lito is still a stranger. It's a stranger who keeps staring at him and who is, admittedly, pretty. Handsome, maybe? He might even have Aramis beat, just given his jawline and other aspects of his body.

"Long story," is all Porthos says gruffly. "You said you're not working yet? Aramis, you're already bothering him?" he teases.

Aramis' frown deepens to a scowl as Porthos begins staring at Lito in return, and he turns around to face his wine glass before he suggests he leave the pair of them alone to appreciate one another. "It would be fun to have a small part," he tells his glass. "Athos would enjoy it. He only pretends not to watch the show."

Lito wonders why Aramis turns from them, so, but then he reminds himself that he is close to staring and is going to get caught out, at this rate. He swallows back that loneliness and glances at Aramis. "Athos?" he echoes. "Who is this Athos?"

"He's sort of our other boyfriend," Porthos replies, a touch cautious and yet at the same time, he wants to stubbornly lift his chin and invoke the fighting or the disdain that usually comes of such an announcement. "And you two can enjoy that show all you like. I prefer something with more action."

"It's not our fault you missed the sequence where diseased space pirates took the emergency bay hostage," replies Aramis, turning to look at Lito.

"We are a trio, even if only two of us can legally be wed. Lest you think us greedy, I assure you, we are quite content at three."

"And such a thing is accepted?" Lito asks, turning to Aramis now. "If people know that about you, they're going to judge you differently. It will affect the roles you can get," he says, because personal experience has shown him this much and he does not mean to be cruel, but passing along such information seems necessary.

"Besides, I'm straight," he protests, for Aramis' half-flirtation.

Porthos shakes his head as he starts to cut up fruits, thinking that none of the plots on Aramis' soap opera make any sense and fantastical plots are something he doesn't need to think about in depth. "It's okay, he wasn't recruiting either," Porthos assures.

"Not everyone wants you, chou."

"I believe I offered the opposite of an invitation," replies Aramis, refilling his glass. "Such talk makes Lito uncomfortable." He sips at his wine. "I don't mean to make a career of it, regardless," he says. "But I do not think it would matter if I did. I would be playing a role, not myself - who cares what I do at home?"

"That is not the case. If you are gay, you cannot do certain roles. Action and sometimes, romance. They will often not believe that you can," Lito says, beginning to grow more passionate about this. For years and years, he had needed to hide. For someone to tell him that it should not matter, it makes him almost angry.

"Many people care. And they will be hateful and they can ruin your career."

Porthos starts to grow mildly suspicious about the vehemence with which he argues, mainly because no one is ever that argumentative and firm about something they don't care about. "No talk that makes him uncomfortable, then," he agrees, cutting up the fruits still as he gives Aramis a silent look of curiosity, asking what he thinks about the situation.

Aramis raises a brow, for it has always been thus when Aramis speaks openly of his affection for another man. Lito protests entirely too much, raising his suspicions all over again.

"There are always people who will be hateful," he says, choosing to do the opposite of what Porthos has advised. "We have decided not to care. Being with Porthos is more important to me than anyone's fear and hatred."