du_vallon | (no subject)

Between him and Aramis, their flat is both equally messy and equally tidy in turns. Today, Porthos has some time with Aramis out fetching information for their hunting, which leaves Porthos to play with the cat, tidy up some of the mess, and put a slow roast on the oven so that they can have rich meat when Aramis returns home later on that evening. He's thinking about the whole d'Artagnan situation, too, given that he's glad that he and Aramis have a decision, even though he's not sure how to feel about it.

He really would hate for a friend to turn up, only to have it turn out that he hates them because of who they've chosen to love. He's finishing with the last of the wax that's stained the main room when he hears the knock at the door and peers upwards, gingerly sidestepping the spots he's just washed as he wanders to the door, giving Athos a command to stay back in case it's a stranger.

Without checking (which Aramis would have his head for), Porthos opens the door and brightens even further when it's a familiar face on the other side. "I heard there were some troublemakers roaming this building, and now here's one," he teases with a wry smirk.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Allison stuck her tongue out at Porthos playfully when he cracked wise at her. Stepping forward, a shopping bag hooked over one elbow and a plate covered in aluminum foil in her hands, she sacrificed a full body tackle of a hug for shifting the plate to one hand and hugging him with her free arm, kissing each of his cheeks affectionately.

"Hey yourself, mon grand." she giggled. "Now be nice to me, or I'll let Aramis have all the cookies I baked."

Drawing back, she moved the plate back and forth temptingly in front of his face.

"They're Toll House cookies and everything." she crooned teasingly. "A delicacy not yet seen by 17th Century France, I'm sure...kitchen, point me at it. We're going to eat carbs with glasses of milk, and play with the kitty toys in this bag here."

Her tongue only makes him laugh all the more, deep and riotous as he steps back and lets her in, trying to take the plate from her as he draws her in tightly and hugs her until they're both off balance a bit, smirking as he peeks under it. "This way," he says, whistling to let Athos know he's got company.

It's not as if he needs much coaxing. He comes vaulting out from the living room, mewling at Allison. "We might not have had them in France, but I've been learning as much as I can, here. Next to chocolate cake, they're my favourite," he praises, eager to have some more.

"Well, you'll never have better than mine--ohmigod, you have him coming to you when you whistle?" she replied, cutting herself off with a coo as Athos romped into the room with a little mew of greeting. Relenting, she let Porthos take the plate and stooped to gather the kitten up into her arms.

"Hello, Athos! Bonjour, mon petite!" she crooned, kissing his head and earning herself a nuzzle. "How's the fuzziest widdle Musketeer, huh? Are you being a good baby kitty? Yesh, of course you are..."

"I promised Aramis I'd get him trained," Porthos agrees, taking the opportunity to use Allison's distraction to reach for a cookie and gnaw on it thoughtfully, grinning as he watches the both of them. "He's worried about his hat, after all." Though he rolls his eyes, Porthos has gone to great lengths to now make sure that hat is going to be protected. He quirks his lips, amused as he watches her.

"If Athos ever actually shows up, I pray you greet him the exact same way," he deadpans.