“Mm.” Athos pulls his sweater over his head next, though before removing the shirt underneath, he pauses to examine the suit’s various layers. “And yet this is all quite formal by modern standards.” It’s nothing compared to their uniforms, and certainly not compared to the finer things he had once worn in a life long past, but certainly different, with more finesse and authority than anything he has seen in these parts.

He glances at Aramis as he speaks, the moment right him for him to catch the man shirtless, and his gaze lingers - idiotically - for a moment longer than it needs to. They are soldiers, this is hardly the first time they have dressed in front of one another. And yet the simplest gestures carry different weight now.

Athos hates it. Swiftly looking away again, he unbuttons his shirt and reaches for the suit.