du_vallon | (no subject)

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Porthos is starting to think that sleep is a thing of the past. He hasn't slept in so long that he's seeing things, but there's no way that he's seeing what's on the couch now. Aramis has Lucie in his arms and they're both so peaceful and calm and he actually makes a keening noise before he remembers he needs to shut up. Grabbing his phone, he opens the camera to take some pictures, but the memory is completely full. How can that be? It's not like he's taken...

Except, maybe he has, he's taken so many pictures that he's completely out of space. He's just going to have to get someone to show him how to move these off, or he'll buy a new phone. For now, he goes back and deletes some pictures of clothes so he can take a new shot of Aramis and the baby before he curls in with them, trying to make room without jostling or sending them over, tugging the blanket over the chaise as he gets comfortable.

"Hey, chou," he rumbles, eyes already closed as he curls in. "Remember when this used to be my couch?"

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Half in a doze himself, Aramis shifts, making room for Porthos while also pressing in against him until they are a tangle beneath the blanket. "So long ago," he says, pressing his temple against Porthos'. Aramis smiles.

"Remember all we got up to on it before this one came along?"

"How can I forget?" he teases, kissing Aramis lazily and with all the energy left that he can bear, tangling his foot over Aramis as he starts to idly rub his thumb over Aramis' palm, not wanting to do it on Lucie's forehead though he yearns to, but only because he's not sure if he'll wake her, if he does. "We should reupholster, before she gets older," he notes, thinking of all those things and an older daughter, now sitting on it.

With a wrinkle of his nose, he thinks that yeah, they definitely need some redecorating.

Aramis snorts delicately enough to avoid waking Lucie. "If you fall down that path, we'll have to replace everything in the apartment," he says with a chuckle. "Though with any luck, we won't have to - we can simply move to the country home."

In all the excitement of Lucie's arrival and the months leading up to it, Aramis realizes it's been some time since he thought of their future house. "I wonder how far off track we've placed our finances," he says, "Having her."

"That means we can't sully anything in the country house," Porthos points out, which is probably the smartest thing to do, but it still leaves him with just a little disappointment that he can't help. His stomach turns a little when Aramis talks about the finances. "I don't like to think of that," he says quietly. "It makes me feel like I spent all our money and have got no more cushion."

And that part terrifies him, even though Athos has done countless jobs of reassuring him that it'll all be fine.

"We are absolutely sullying the country house," says Aramis at once. "You are too handsome to go to waste on sudden, parenting induced celibacy. We'll simply have to choose more...traditional surfaces on which to recreate."

He tangles their feet beneath the blanket. "Athos would tell us if we were in dire straights," he reminds Porthos. "And we are not, he's a terrible liar and we would know at once."

Porthos grins that wicked, mischievous grin he has when Aramis promises to debase him, even though part of him thinks that this isn't proper discussion to be having around the baby, but even the hope of it in the future is something he desperately needs. "Or we can just invest in very good cleaning materials," he promises in a low, determined growl.

"Do you think he's itching to get out there? The country?" Porthos has to imagine it's got good and bad things going for it. It's more private, but that can work two ways for them, now that the baby is around.

"I'd imagine so," answers Aramis. "But I don't believe a man like Athos will be satisfied with country life forever. It's important that we continue Kingsman Consulting, and just as important that he not sink so deeply into it we can't drag him out again."

Absently, he turns his head to kiss the top of Lucie's. "She smells good here," he says "Have you noticed? Right at the top of her head."

"I couldn't just do a country life," he says, knowing that himself. He wants to come into the city and work at the shelter, especially if he intends to be taking on kids in need of a temporary stop before they find somewhere more permanent (or stop wanting their place). "We'll make sure that we all keep working exactly as much as we want."

He leans in, sniffing delicately, not sure what to expect, but Aramis is right. "Honestly, I'm gonna have trouble prying her from your arms, aren't I?" he says knowingly.

"You can try," chuckles Aramis, pressing his nose to her downy hair yet again. The scent is more addicting than wine or women ever were. "I'm on leave for six weeks. After that we'll have to work out our shifts and work and with the baby. We'll start Athos on an hour every other week and see if he jumps out a window."

Porthos snorts and tries to imagine who'll be more distraught after one of those sessions. "We should get one of those little webby cameras in the house," he says. "Then we can see if Athos has been driven to madness." Or just to make sure that he's there, but also on the off chance that they'll catch him in some private, happy moment.

He wriggles his way in a little closer, his fingers ghosting over Lucie's hair. "I think it'll curl," he murmurs.

"I hope so," Aramis murmurs. Curls would only add to her perfection, and perhaps Aramis is greedy, but he hopes for them as fervently as Porthos. "I do like the idea of a nanny cam," he adds. "Then I can look in on the both of you when I'm far away at work."

"Well, if that's the case, you'll have to tell me when you're watching so I can make sure you get your money's worth," Porthos jokes, but the cock of his brow upwards is entirely genuine, seeing as he enjoys the prospect of knowing there's a camera on him and that Aramis is able to view him over it. "You could even leave me requests," he says.

Maybe if he's skilled, he can somehow rope Athos into it, too. With him knowing, it might be more difficult, but it's still a challenge he's willing to take on.

"This has just become interesting," says Aramis, warring with himself over the familiar wash of heat that rolls over him while their innocent babe is in his arms. "Is cooking in that apron of yours on the table?" he asks. "Yoga in the living room while she's in her crib?"

"Both," is what Porthos has to say with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes as he waggles his brows at Aramis, entirely on board with the idea of him getting up to those. "I mean, I'll still be working some, but I'll have to be here to watch her a lot and if you just so happen to be watching from another place, who knows what interesting texts you might send me, with suggestions."

"Who knows indeed," laughs Aramis. He will have to begin composing a list, lest the many possibilities overwhelm him. "And you will do the same, I hope," he says. "Perhaps not while at the shelter," he amends with another chuckle.

"You know, you never remark on anything particular that I do. I shall have to assume then that everything I do is charming."

Porthos gives a low growl of want before he remembers that he's supposed to be keeping it down, lest they wake Lucie. "I really enjoy watching you shoot," he says. "Which isn't something you can do so often in the flat. The way you finger that trigger, the confidence in you when you shoot..." He bites his lower lip and lets his gaze roam over Aramis.

"Not to mention, you are incredibly sexy when you're wandering around with your kit off."

"Ah, so I must merely be naked," says Aramis, carefully nudging Porthos' shoulder with his own. "We could get one of those flame lighters with the triggers - would that have the same effect, do you think? Or - "

Aramis' eyes brighten. "They have games one may play on the television now, with guns!"

"Or you could play around with your hair. You know how much I like it when you've got that little bit in a bun or you're running your hands through..." He bites his lip, clearing his throat, and starting to think some dampening thoughts before he gets in trouble with the baby there with them.

"Lucie might like having some games. So would other children, if we took them in."

"Nicer games," says Aramis, running an absent hand through his hair now. He really ought to have put it up before collecting Lucie, but there's nothing for it now.

"About collecting flowers and whatnot." Aramis grins. "I do hope she's the sort of child to throw a tea party."

"If that's the case, then you better start liking tea," Porthos suggests, not that he minds tea so much, but it's not really a drink he ever saw the point of, unless it was spiked. "Athos can take tea with her, he's proper like that," he muses, reaching out when he's felt like it's long enough and it's his turn for a cuddle with the baby.

"I'd like whatever Lucie sees fit to serve me," says Aramis, making a soft sound of discontent when Porthos motions for the baby. Still, his arms are growing numb, and he has had her for a while now. Aramis hands her over, comforting himself by snuggling in close once she's in Porthos' arms. "Now I may love on you both," he says, carding his fingers through both of their curls in turn.

Porthos lets out a minor little noise of victory in the back of his throat, both for getting the baby into his arms, but also for how this has resulted in Aramis playing with his hair. He grins, his eyes falling shut. "How about we teach her to enjoy drinking interesting tea, at least?" he suggests. "The kind you get in specialty shops, with little spicy and acidic kicks."

"I believe the usual custom is that the cups be empty," says Aramis with a small huff of laughter for Porthos' grandiose plans. "And it will be some time before her palette is ready for your exquisite tastes, cariño. Perhaps we stick with milk for now."

"Fine, but I can make little cakes," he protests, because if he's going to be around the house a little more while Aramis works and Athos holds down the fort, then he's going to stick by what he'd wanted, staying at home to raise the kids as much as he can, to be the father he never had. "She can enjoy little cakes, can't she?"

"Of course," says Aramis. Tea he can leave, but cake. "Everyone loves little cakes. Those will be perfect for tea parties attended by us and her stuffed bear and pony." Aramis raises a brow.

"I call rights on the bear's cakes."

"You'll just become Papa Bear, which is more my name," Porthos says, like he's actually vying for that name instead of just wanting to make some cakes for his little Lucie to enjoy. "Does that mean Athos is the pony?" he asks, keeping a straight face as he wonders whether they could convince Athos to sit for tea parties.

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