du_vallon: (dimples)
du_vallon ([personal profile] du_vallon) wrote2015-10-03 11:05 pm

(no subject)

He's definitely walked into something strange.

Porthos had finished up with the gym and stopped at the grocery store to pick up the fixings for tacos made with tilapia and other salsas, picking up beer and wine too, and when he gets home, there's the sound of rapid Spanish and laughter, two voices that he only recognizes one of. Wandering inside warily, he hangs up his coat and then feels a touch like he should have changed, because standing there in his bike shorts and a tight t-shirt makes him feel suddenly on display.

"Aramis," he greets politely, gaze sliding over to the man with him. He's handsome, that's for sure, but that could just be Porthos' appreciation of men like Aramis talking. "I didn't know we had company for dinner," he says, glancing at the already exhausted bottles of wine, a touch jealous that he'd missed out on so much drinking.
afineseamstress: (Nude rude surprise.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-07 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
Aramis raises both brows. Parcels in drawers tend to be fascinating indeed, and he pushes Porthos off of him. "What have you done now?" he asks, retrieving the parcel from its promised place to carry back into the living room.

Aramis opens it, brows climbing even further when he unearths a large skirt. Or is it, "A kilt?"
afineseamstress: (Door.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-07 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
Aramis grins, both for the garment in his hands, and for the picture Porthos makes, draped back against the chaise like that. "You look like sin itself," he murmurs, and of course he will wear this. "Just let me clean up," he says, for he remembers another stipulation of that bet. "Wait right there."
afineseamstress: (pic#7902748)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-07 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
"So there are," says Aramis with a bright laugh, wetting a towel to run over himself and wash away the traces of his earlier orgasm from his belly. He wraps the kilt around his waist next, fiddling a touch with the buckles and draping until it seems to hang just right.

"Not a terrible effect," he tells his reflection, turning this way and that, but eventually he must peel his eyes from the sight of himself and reach for something else on the countertop. Hiking a leg, Aramis coast his fingers with a generous bit of oil, humming as he works himself open with it. When he feels he is looser, but not too loose, he washes his hands and returns to the living room.

Aramis' eyes darken at once for the stroke of Porthos' hand around that magnificent cock. "Don't get too far without me," he says.
afineseamstress: (Undressing.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-07 02:09 am (UTC)(link)
"It certainly did not," Aramis returns, for he loves that coat, and he hadn't thought anyone noticed his attempts to appear bulkier than he is under all those layers.

He sniffs and bends at the waist, lifting one of their fallen magazines to place back on the coffee table. He makes absolutely certain his arse is facing Porthos.
afineseamstress: (Soft.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-07 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
"I believe that was stipulated in the game of cards," says Aramis, unable to help squirming against Porthos' hot skin. It really does feel as if there are miles of it, and Aramis adores every inch. "You did not enjoy the view overlong, querido," he laughs, turning his head to kiss him.
afineseamstress: (Chuffed.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-07 02:37 am (UTC)(link)
Aramis chuckles and manages to land gracefully on his feet, hefting one foot onto the coffee table to briefly examine a spot of lint on his knee. "That is what Athos is for," he tells Porthos, going to collect the extra glasses and Spanish magazines from Lito's visit. It requires little bending, but he does it as much and as egregiously as possible, smirking at Porthos from time to time.

"I can see why they like these," he says. "Quite airy."
afineseamstress: (Hesitant.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-07 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
"You all but invited me to show it off," says Aramis, but he straightens for the next bit, mouth going dry as he stares at Porthos. "Truly?" he asks. "You would be up for that tonight, Porthos?"

Aramis drifts closer, running his fingers through Porthos' curls as if to ground himself. "I meant it about the weeping. And the screaming," he adds.
afineseamstress: (Undressing.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-08 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh dear," says Aramis for the stain, and though he knows they are yet only teasing, that smack makes his breath come faster, a flush rising to his cheeks. He takes their soft new blanket with him and puts it down for his knees, bending over carefully so he can rub at the stain with a cloth. (It might be a stain. It's barely a mark. It's hardly the point)

"Bit of a tough one," Aramis hums, scrubbing harder.
afineseamstress: (Up close.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-08 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm certain it will come out eventually," says Aramis, scrubbing at it more slowly now, long strokes of his arm that undulate his body back and forth where he kneels on the floor. "Perhaps with more leverage," he muses, bending deeper towards the ground.
afineseamstress: (Intent.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-08 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
"A complicated tableau, to be sure," says Aramis, breathless not for the work but with anticipation. He glances at Porthos over his shoulder, teeth in his bottom lip for the sight of his gorgeous husband.

"I think I've got it," he says, rising gracefully. His approach is slow, eyeing Porthos with curiosity. He knows their endgame, but not how they will reach it, and Aramis' stomach leaps again.
afineseamstress: (Turned and shirtless.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-08 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
Aramis' knees quiver, and he cannot quite stop the puff of a moan that escapes his throat for the stretch of Porthos' fingers. He looks down at the thick thigh Porthos has patted, and for a moment his head is so fogged with lust he can't decide where he's meant to be.

"Shall I kneel?" he asks, licking his lips. "Over your knee?"
afineseamstress: (Eyes closed.)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-08 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
Aramis moans properly then, for he can feel the strength in Porthos' grip, more than he could escape with his own. A word from Aramis would free him, and that only makes Aramis love Porthos more, as gentle in his heart as he is powerful of body.

"Yes," he agrees, flexing against Porthos' grip just once more before he settles. "By God, you are strong."
afineseamstress: (pic#7902748)

[personal profile] afineseamstress 2015-10-08 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
"How can I be sure?" Aramis asks him, for he can resist no opportunity to be wicked. He shivers, gooseflesh rising beneath his kilt in the wake of Porthos' hand. "I don't remember getting mess on the floor. Perhaps it was the cat."

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