(no subject)

When Aramis had left for church, Porthos figured he had about an hour or so of good time to really prepare things. He'd barely noticed Aramis go, at first, his nose stuck in a book about cooking and how to prepare things with knives and new skills. He's good with a knife and a sword, so Porthos imagines he can do all the fancy things the pictures are telling him to do. He calls over to Aramis, asking if he's hungry, and that's when he remembers he's alone and Aramis is off praying to God for guidance or forgiveness or whatever it is you pray for.

So he figures he's got some time and he's starved, so it's best to get on with dinner. Porthos doesn't bother with a jacket over his linen shirt and his trousers, figuring it warm enough to walk. He heads straight for the market and buys potatoes and duck, two fine red wines, and when his coin's exhausted, he heads back to Aramis' apartment, which he's quickly thinking of as his own.

He's not entirely sure he plans to take his own place. Living with Aramis is like they haven't left the garrison and he's grateful for that familiarity. He's not sure what losing it would do.

Recipe book open, Porthos follows the steps and finds it's not so bad, making the duck. He cuts potatoes and puts them all around the thing, which is salted, peppered, and dried, before shoved into the oven that works off the electricity that Aramis hates so much. Almost forgetting, Porthos heads for the lights, using candles instead. Even if he's got dimmers installed, Aramis still seems to prefer candlelight the old way and the less fussing he has to put up with, the better. He busies himself in washing up, shirtsleeves pushed to his arms, as the smell of roast duck and potatoes begins to fill the apartment.