"Nope, you seem like one to me," Porthos argues, because he doesn't see what else Athos is right now except that. He shifts, burrowing his cheek into Athos' shoulder as he wraps an arm around him to get comfortable, slouching down where he can sleep. It's the first time he's felt settled since he broke his foot and maybe it's for the best that he gets the sleep that he can.

"I'll fetch you wine in the morning if you stay still."