"You said it yourself, didn't you? It's not like you can actually keep me down," Porthos points out, and his body is craving a little control, as if his old wants are bleeding into his adult brain, skipping all the traumatic in-betweens that made him so averse to this. He leans up, surging forward to steal a kiss. "Don't worry. The moment I dislike it, I'll just throw you off. Maybe even spank you for it," he says, voice thick with promise.