du_vallon | (no subject)

(no subject)

Paris is still not one of Porthos' favourite places. There are too many ill memories here that he had been happy to leave behind to the country. He thinks that Athos' business could use someone else, especially since it seems all Porthos is doing is toting around items throughout the trip to make sure Athos never wants for anything. It's all fine and well, but right now, there's an idiot of a bloke who's cornered Athos outside the house they'd just been in.

Porthos is at a distance, but he can still hear a bit of things, and it's just enough to make him drift closer.

"...it's a funny thing, really, seeing you show your face here after the utter disgrace you left Paris in," the noble man is saying, his voice dripping with condescension that Porthos doesn't like in the least. It's the sort of tone that gets his hackles up and makes him want to rebel immediately. "And here I thought that wife-killer was an apt nom de guerre to keep you out of society. I was mistaken, it seems."

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“I won’t sit properly for a week, and now you claim you did not even earn it?” Athos asks with a playful lift of his brow. Gently, he tugs on Porthos’ curls. “I thought you enjoyed praise."

"I like praise, but bravery is fighting for noble causes, not punching idiots in the face," he points out, though he does smile even wider at the compliment to his prowess in bed. "Now the praise for my skills here, I'll gladly accept and encourage," he says, smirking as he leans in to kiss Athos.

"Sleep?" he asks, tracing the line of Athos' jaw slowly.

“Then I will reserve my praise for when you do something truly magnificent,” he deadpans. Athos tips his head into the touch and nods faintly. It’s mid-day, and the sun is bright where it filters through the windows, but Athos is exhausted and happy to let sleep claim him.

“Stay?” he murmurs, letting his eyes slip shut.

Porthos gives a sound of acquiescence and a nod of his head. "T'il someone rouses me and kicks me out," he agrees, since there's a lot of other help in the house who like to keep Athos on a schedule and Porthos is usually someone who interferes with all that order by keeping the master of the house blissed out and insensate.

"That, or you kick in your sleep," he teases.

“Only one way to find out,” Athos smirks, burrowing close. The staff of the townhouse is smaller, and more inclined to leave its master to his own affairs, thank goodness. There might still be talk - there may already be talk - but those who work for the Comte de la Fere favor their positions enough not to let it spread.

Or so Athos tells himself. In truth, he is too terribly comforted and comforted to care about the consequences of staying right where they are.

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