du_vallon | (no subject)

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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"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.