Porthos inches back to give a space between him and Athos, precisely enough room for another body. He leans over to yank the glass away from Aramis, then prying on his hand to tug him in towards them, looking expectantly at where he wants him. "Now, this one, I haven't told either of you," he admits. "True, in my fantasy, it's me in the middle, but I'm hardly so lithe to be there now."

He raises a brow at Aramis, given that he hopes it communicates exactly what he expects.