du_vallon | (no subject)

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When Porthos had started to learn English, he'd used books and the people around town to improve his knowledge. He hadn't been awful to start with, but there had been a lot to be desired. This time, he's got Aramis and it's only Spanish, so it's not like he absolutely needs to learn it, but it's important for Aramis and it's something that he wouldn't mind surprising him with now and again.

Still, as he sits cross-legged staring at Aramis, he's starting to get a little frustrated with the way you have to speak differently, and how it sounds so entirely strange to his ear.

"Why do my R's have to sound like that?" he demands, because they're not like that in French. And he's defaulted back to French, which he's been doing all lessons even though he knows he's supposed to be learning by speaking more in Spanish than French or English. It's only that the other languages are so much easier by now. Letting out a growl of frustration, he drags a pillow into his lap to lean his elbows on it.

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Porthos grins as he stares down at Aramis, all unfocused and giddy as he works to settle himself up higher again, eager to sink down and fill himself up and feel right. "Watch my stomach," he coaxes. "The strain of holding myself is definitely a sight to see," he mumbles as he sinks down again.

Aramis' gaze drops obediently to Porthos' stomach, his muscles bunched as he settles, only to uncoil as he lifts up again. Aramis groans, tracing his fingers against those ridges to feel them move, and his gaze when he lifts it again is reverent.

"So powerful," he exhales. "My Jupiter."

Porthos grins wickedly as he seeks out the compliment, hungry for more. He nips a kiss from Aramis' lips when he stretches out enough to get close for it, grabbing hold of his shoulders so he can start up a new rhythm -- one that's a touch punishing and desperate as he can get. "Which god are you, then? You're beautiful enough to be Venus," he murmurs.

"I like that," Aramis says, groaning into the new rhythm Porthos sets, little sounds of pleasure punched from him each time Porthos descends. He longs to kiss him again, but settles for placing a hand over Porthos' thundering heart. "Love, beauty, fertility - I would be all these things for you."

"If you get me pregnant, there's a serious conversation we're going to need to have," he gasps out, barely able to do more than mumble the words as he starts to sweat, reaching to place his palm over Aramis', clasping so tight to Aramis' fingers. "Venus," he moans, nonetheless, because Aramis likes it.

Aramis laughs breathlessly, head thrown back to watch Porthos as he grinds down on him, taking him over and over in that delicious, tight heat. "Jupiter," he whispers back, tweaking one of Porthos' nipples before he reaches down, fisting his cock in a loose grip to tease him with every rock of his hips.

He gives an undignified whine the minute Aramis takes him in hand, knowing that he ought to be better about this or act more manly, but he doesn't care. He's desperate for touches having been so deprived of them lately and these are his very favourite of all the touches he's ever had. "I never feel half as right as I do when you're in me," he moans out happily.

"If you'd put that book away sooner," Aramis gasps up at him, "You could have had this ages ago." He lifts his hips as Porthos sinks down, body humming with the pleasure of sliding deep within him. "Perhaps next time you'll listen to me."

"I wanted to study," he protests, as stubborn and petulant as he gets. Letting out a sharp growl, he sinks down a little faster now, speeding up the rhythm. "Harder," he begs. "Touch me harder."

"Are you certain?" Aramis asks, even as he obliges him, fisting him firmly now, matching him stroke for stroke. "The sooner you come, the sooner I'm not able to be inside of you anymore. And after all that waiting..."

Porthos is a touch confused by this terrible conundrum. He wants Aramis to keep touching him, but if he comes, he's going to lose the feeling of Aramis filling him up. "Or you just stay hard inside of me as long as you can," he reasons, angling a new way to start rocking down again.

"Now you will make me spend," gasps Aramis, losing his rhythm as Porthos shifts and somehow takes him even deeper. He rests his head against the headboard, watching Porthos open-mouthed, only just managing to keep stroking him. "Porthos," he whines. "You are so tight."

"Shocked you haven't loosened me up yet," Porthos teases with a smirk, pausing as he grabs Aramis by the shoulders and holds on as tightly as he can, just hovering half above Aramis before he sinks down inch by painful inch, torturing himself with the pleasure of this moment. Sobbing out a happy cry, he sinks down in a rush for the last bit, nearly coming then and there, but managing to hold off for just a moment.

Aramis gazes at him in dizzy astonishment, groaning helplessly as Porthos takes him back into all that tight heat. "You are," he gasps, "Teasing. Porthos." Aramis grips his hip. "I did not know you capable."

"Nope," he counters breathlessly. "Just trying to make myself feel better." He does it again, feeling like he's stripping himself completely of all of his layers, gasping as he leans down and presses his forehead to the top of Aramis' head, huffing out breaths. "Can I please come?" he begs.

"Prolonging your pleasure is all I ever wanted for you," Aramis groans, tilting his head to take Porthos' mouth, kissing him as deeply as he can before Porthos lifts up again. "Three more strokes," he says. "Last three more strokes, my darling, I know you can."

He gives a whimper, something that says how very little he isn't actually sure that he can last much longer, but when Aramis gives him a goal, Porthos is going to do his absolute best to do right by it. He keeps moving, keeps sliding up and then down, capturing kisses as he waits for those last three strokes that are coming.

"C'mon," he coaxes. "Aramis," he urges. "Please, come on."

Grinning breathlessly, Aramis strips him with merciless speed, leaning up to whisper in his ear. "Come, my Jupiter," he says and nips his jaw as he leans back, his eyes open and ready to receive the glorious sight of his husband spending whilst speared on his cock.

That's utterly unfair. Porthos comes, mouth stupidly wide open as he spends all over Aramis, making an absolute mess of the both of them as he sinks back onto Aramis' cock, feeling worn and pleased and entirely too perfect for words. "And to think, I was just trying to learn Spanish today," he sighs.

Aramis feasts on the sight of Porthos as he comes undone, his beautiful face awash with stunned bliss. His seed is hot where it strikes between them, and Aramis moans, gripping Porthos' hips with both hands as his hips shift helplessly. "Porthos," he says, a little desperate, for he needs only a bit more. "Please."

Torn asunder, but determined to bring Aramis pleasure, he centres a hand on Aramis' chest as he works to start up the rhythm again, every muscle screaming and aching for it, even though he wants this so badly. "Always," he vows, bucking as if riding a horse, now.

Aramis hangs onto Porthos' hips and cries out as orgasm rushes up, overtaking him and stealing his senses for long moments. He falls back against the headboard, body limp but his hands reaching to pull Porthos down for another, gentler kiss. "Perfect," he murmurs. "You are so good to me, Porthos."

Porthos' eyes fall shut at the bliss of feeling completely filled up. He lets out a ragged, choked cry as he sinks down for more kisses, wanting to feel like this as long as he can. "It was in the wedding vows," he teases. "I didn't dare break them."

"True," says Aramis with a breathless laugh, hissing as Porthos shifts on his now sensitive cock, but he would not move him for all the world. "Thank heavens the part about you riding my cock like a beast was said in French for the reception's sake."

"Only Athos, d'Artagnan, Constance, and Allison had to live with that particular image," he teases, kissing Aramis again. "Maybe Jim," he amends, because he's pretty sure Jim's fluent in French by now. He sighs and places his hands on Aramis' chest.

"I don't want to move," he says stubbornly.

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afineseamstress - 2015-11-30 01:18 (UTC) - Expand

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du_vallon - 2015-11-30 01:48 (UTC) - Expand

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