du_vallon | (no subject)

(no subject)

The chocolates had been the very best thing Porthos has ever tasted in his life. The minute he finishes them (nearly half a box), he ends up feeling in the best mood he's been in since...well, he can't even remember when. Everything is bright and glowing and perfect, and there's only one thing in mind. Make his men happy, through whatever romantic means possible. It's why he's wearing the new yoga trousers Aramis had bought him (tight and with handprints on the arse), is setting up a dozen candles on the table, and is humming something from a cartoon song, setting the roses up.

He's even fetched himself some poetry, just to be really, really ready.

As far as he's concerned, there's only one goal in mind: woo his husband and get him on his side so they can go after Athos. Popping another chocolate in his mouth, the world goes starry and bright one more time and he feels half like he's floating. It's incredible, it really is, this being in love.

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Aramis lets himself into the apartment with a smile, hoping that one or both of his dear men are home so that can finally bestow on them their gifts. His smile only grows when he spies the candles on the table, and not far beyond them, Porthos in the pair of trousers he swore he'd never wear.

"Caved at last, have you?" asks Aramis with a laugh.

When the key turns, Porthos bursts to light, grasping for the bouquet of roses (one of the many) and dropping to one knee to present them upwards to Aramis, a keen and hopeful look on his face. "My darling," he praises fondly, lips stained with the smudges of caramels and chocolates yet. "It's been miserable without you here. Here," he says, foisting the roses on him. "I brought you some presents."

Aramis accepts the flowers with another chuckle, carding his fingers through Porthos' hair. His affections are quite exuberant, even for Porthos, but Aramis is content to blame the traces of sugar lingering on Porthos' lips.

"I was only gone for an hour" he says, "Even you can wait that long."

Porthos rises to his feet and wraps his arms around Aramis' waist to spin them, pinning Aramis to the front door so he can kiss him thoroughly, unwilling to let him go. "An hour is too long without you, chou. My heart breaks, my soul weeps, my eyes go blind without the sight of your handsome eyes." He slides his fingers slowly up and down Aramis' chest, resting them above his heart. "I was half a soul without you."

Aramis makes no secret of the fact that he adores Porthos' large hands on him, but as Porthos' hold lingers, Aramis begins to grow uneasy. "Have you been at the wine?" he asks, wondering if Porthos has been up here for the last hour reading awful poems in the hope of impressing him.

"You don't need to do so much, carino," he says, wriggling a hand up to touch Porthos' cheek. "I know very well how much you love me."

"I have to do everything," Porthos promises, hitching Aramis up into his arms, toting him around as he spins him again and again, leaning up to kiss him before he sets Aramis down into one of the chairs, crawling into his lap as he leans behind him to fetch one of the caramels he's made for Aramis, resting it on his lower lip. "You don't know the half of how my heart beats for you. I went and shouted it from the window. Scared the Captain, I think."

Raising both brows, Aramis looks to where the Captain is huddled under the table, his tail still fluffy. One may always trust an animal to know when something is wrong, and something is certainly wrong with Porthos. He opens his mouth to accept the caramel, using the time it takes to chew the sticky treat to think.

"This caramel is heavenly," Aramis says in an even tone. "Did you bring home any treats for yourself?"

Porthos is still humming under his breath, a sweet song he'd heard on the radio that he sings the melody to, the words low and playful. "There was some chocolate. I thought maybe you or Athos had left it for me. You're both so thoughtful," he praises, lighting a few more candles as he takes one of the flowers to affix it to Aramis' lapel, taking great care to put it on there firmly.

"Indeed." Aramis looks Porthos over carefully. Apart from his effervescent mood and proclivity towards the dramatic, he seems well enough. "And how are you feeling?" he asks, caressing Porthos' cheek even as he feels for a lump beneath his jaw. "I'd like to make sure you're in good health when we have such an important day ahead of us."

"If you're going to touch me like that, I won't be held accountable for my actions," Porthos feels inclined to warn Aramis with a playful smirk on his face, waggling his brows as he darts in for a kiss, holding onto him a little tighter. "Have I ever told you about how I love your eyes? The warmth of them, the colour, the way they look gold in the light..."

"Not of late," Aramis prompts, distracting Porthos while he holds his wrist with gentle fingers, counting his heartbeats to make certain that he is truly as well as he seems. But his heart is steady, and Aramis relaxes a little more. "Have you planned an evening for us?"

Porthos' eyes are half-lidded, a dazed and sappy look on his face as Aramis holds onto him. "I'm going to cook you and Athos as many aphrodisiacs as I can and fill this place with a thousand flowers and candles and then take you both to bed and make sweet, slow love to you." And then he intends to hold them tight, maybe write them a poem or two, and finish it off with a massage and hot bath.

"I'm not certain you need an aphrodisiac, my darling," says Aramis with a small laugh. "Nor I." Porthos seems given to the dramatic just now, and Aramis responds in kind. "If there is anything that could make my already boundless love for you grow even more, we have yet to find it."

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