du_vallon | (no subject)

(no subject)

After Aramis (and himself, if he's honest) had calmed down from the news, the next most important step lies before them. While they're incredibly happy, Porthos still has his own set of nerves to deal with and he can only imagine that it pales in comparison as to what Athos is likely to be feeling when he hears the news. In order to help sort of calm the mood (or really just soothe Athos), Porthos has popped out to buy a few bottles of wine and one very special bottle of champagne.

When he returns, he can see Athos' coat hanging and knows he's here, which is good because he doubts either of them could prolong the news much longer. Porthos nudges up against Aramis in the kitchen, pressing the side of the champagne bottle to his skin once he raises his shirt. "Steady on," he murmurs. "Let's talk to him."

It could go well, he thinks.

Or they could be ending the night drinking a great deal to soothe the wounds. "Athos," Porthos summons. "C'mere, Aramis has got some news."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Porthos' lips quirk up and he rises slowly, turning to slide his hands around Aramis' hips, ready to guide himself there. "C'mon, Athos," he coaxes. "Best you had some time in the bedroom, too, lest you think all the energy I had to burn is through, because it's not. And I've got this fantasy about the lithest one in the middle of the both of us."

He turns his mischievous grin on Aramis. "Which would be you, now."

Athos requires no coaxing. He is greedy for the distraction, the assurance, the feel of their arms and bodies around him that will banish his fears from his mind. More often than he should, Athos reaches for the bottle to quiet his thoughts; sex can sometimes do the same.

“Do you ever run out of energy?” Athos asks Porthos, languidly pushing himself to his feet. He catches Porthos’ wrist, and pulls him close to kiss him, and then steps toward Aramis to bestow a soft kiss as well. He wants to beg, promise never to leave me behind, but cannot bring himself to speak the words. This is the best he can do.

Athos doesn't say the words, but Aramis feels it in the frame of him when he is kissed, a rigidness in his muscles born of an anxiety that Athos can't quite hide. Aramis catches him by the shoulders and pulls him in again, this time kissing him as filthily as he knows how.

"Porthos," he says when he steps back, nodding at Athos to say that he should carry him. "If you would." And with that Aramis returns to the bedroom, already pulling off his shirt. Truly, it's a wonder he even bothered putting it on at all.

"And to think," Porthos remarks as he bends down to haul Athos into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder as he happily totes him into the bedroom. "A few days ago, you could've easily done this with me," he remarks with a wide, filthy grin, dropping him onto the bed with a little bounce, leaning up against the nearest post.

Athos opens his mouth under Aramis’ insistent kiss, nearly gasping as he pulls away. Of course, he is given no time to recover; these days, he is more prepared than he once was for Porthos to sweep him up, but still he splutters at the indignity of being carried and dumped like a sack of potatoes. “God only knows what you would have done in revenge,” he counters, unbuttoning his shirt as he stretches out on the bed.

Aramis has wasted no time, already nude when he crawls across the sheets to Athos, helping to peel him out of his shirt. When it is gone, he sets his fingers to Athos' trousers, his gaze flicking up to Porthos. "Are you going to give us a show?" he asks when he finds the man still clothed and watching them, but even as he says it, Aramis can't help a quick show of his own. Tugging Athos' trousers down his thighs, he lowers his head to kiss each newly exposed inch of skin and crawls back up, mouthing now at Athos' pale sides and belly.

Porthos has only just laid down Athos and now a show is being demanded. He lets out a huff and shakes his head, but grins as he watches the both of them, taking his time as he plants his heels in the ground and begins to very slowly pry off his shirt, flexing and taking great pleasure in the muscles he has now that he hadn't before. "I don't know, you seem plenty good at showing off without me," he muses.

Athos inhales sharply, the sudden feel of cool air and Aramis’ warm mouth on his skin making his shiver. He closes his eyes at first, body arching slightly, though he soon cracks one eye open to smirk at Porthos. “He does seem content on his own,” Athos agrees with amusement.

Aramis shivers, desire coursing through him for the spread of so much bare flesh before him, gooseflesh rising so nicely each time he drags his lips across Athos' skin. "But as ever," he says, his voice darker with the want coursing through it, "We would be better for a third."

He rests his cheek against Athos' ribs, head turned to watch Porthos divest himself with pleasing slowness. Aramis tips a grin up at Athos. "I think I prefer this version of him."

Porthos cocks his brow upwards, peering down at his admittedly very nicely toned body, running a palm over the defined abs as he stares down at them, giving a soft hum of consideration. "What, these things?" he teases, grinning as he watches the both of them. "You didn't like me all lithe and bony? I had elbows for days."

“Mm.” Athos makes a sound of agreement, his fingers absently trailing through Aramis’ hair. Aramis is so close, his breath warm on Athos’ skin, and Porthos’ eyes so full of delight as he watches them, and for the moment Athos can imagine that nothing will ever change between them. He rolls his eyes at Porthos' peacocking and beckons him to them. “Come here, will you?"

"Yes, do," Aramis agrees. Loathe as he is to ever remove Athos' fingers from his hair, his naked body makes for quite the compensation, and Aramis resumes his path of kisses up Athos' skin until he's reached his mouth, kissing him deeply as he straddles him. "Or we will begin without you," he warns, dragging his slowly hardening cock against Athos' belly.

He sighs as if this is a true hardship, plucking off his trousers and underwear so he can lumber his way over to the both of them, reaching down to grapple Aramis' shoulder tight enough to haul him back and off Athos, clucking his tongue. "Now, weren't you taught it's not polite to start ahead of others?"

Athos makes a displeased sound as Porthos unceremoniously pulls Aramis away, pushing himself up onto his elbows and reaching for them both. “Weren’t you taught to wait your turn?” he shoots back, a smirk lingering on his lips as he grasps Aramis’ hip with one hand. On his knees before them both, he kisses Aramis’ defiantly, as though daring Porthos to object.

For all his taunting, Aramis still sucks in a breath of surprise when Porthos drags him back, sighing with pleasure when Athos follows to resume their kiss. It does not take him long to realize the benefits of being trapped between them, and Aramis keeps tight hold of Athos' hips, pressing himself shamelessly back against Porthos' body. "By God, the pair of you," he murmurs against Athos' lips. "Like heaven itself."

Porthos pushes Athos back with a big, firm hand. "No," is all he says, voice low and commanding and filled with all the menace it had been missing as a child. "Not until we figure out who's in Aramis and who's in you," Porthos says, eyes sparkling as his determined gaze lands on Athos. "Because it's either me or Aramis in the middle, so let's decide now."

The command in Porthos’ voice is enough to make Athos go hard. He swallows, mouth dry, though his eyes flash with playful defiance. With Aramis still trapped between them, Athos grasps Porthos’ wrist and twists his hand away. “Which did you have in mind?” he drawls, struggling to keep his voice steady when need claws at him already.

Aramis's brows raise to his hairline, and he casts a cross look at Porthos over his shoulder. "If you think I am moving from this spot you've taken leave of your senses," he tells him, "So growl all you want to. I've given you everything you've asked today, you're not going to dangle a position as marvelous as this before me and then snatch it away."

Aramis takes hold of Athos' hips with determination. "Try moving me and I'll bite you."

"That's not a very good threat, seeing as I'd love to see that," is his matter-of-fact response, but he reaches for the lube in the drawer, smacking Aramis' arse as he bears in on him to place biting kisses to his shoulder. "Fine. We do it your way, with you in the middle. Agreeable?"

“I’ve no objections,” Athos answers, voice noticeably rough now. He cups Aramis’ face in both his hands and kisses the man fiercely, pouring every bit of anxiety and fear of the future into the embrace, until all that is left are his desires.

"You don't know how hard I can bite," Aramis returns, or tries to, but Porthos' teeth are against his shoulder, Athos' mouth hard and insistent on his own, and Aramis feels his resistance leave him. He groans and clutches at Athos, hands circling to land upon his arse instead. Aramis scrapes his fingernails against that tender flesh, breaking away to rest his head against Porthos' shoulder only when he simply must breathe.

Porthos grins as he wraps his arm around Aramis' waist to grab him tight, leaning in to mumble into Aramis' ear. "How about you fuck him while I fuck you, instead of the both of us in you at once?" he murmurs, raising his eyebrow. "Will that work?"

Athos is breathing hard by the time the kiss ends, hair falling in his eyes and fingers digging into Aramis’ skin where he has clutched at his hips. Pressed close like this, the three of them are one, skin-to-skin and limbs tangled. And yet they have only just begun. Seeing Porthos whisper in Aramis’ ear, but unable to catch the words, Athos feigns disapproval, even as his eyes twinkle with amusement and desire. “Keeping secrets now, are we?"

Aramis' own eyes are wide, his body flushing with the possibility of either, but not even he has the patience it would take to open any one of them for more than one cock. His blood is up, and so, he would wager, is Athos'.

"A fine idea," he says for all to hear, grinning broadly. Aramis leans in close, nosing Athos' hair from his ear so he can nip it. "On your back, darling," he murmurs, then twists to catch Porthos' mouth in a kiss. "Some oil, please."

Porthos leans back a little so he can find the oil, but he doesn't hand it off first, because he intends to keep it for himself. "Brace yourself," is what he says, giving Aramis fair warning that he's not going to get what he wants. He slides his palm up and down Aramis' arse, nudging just his thumb in, at first, rubbing circles before he slicks up his fingers.