Aramis has long been a student of human nature. It's kept him alive more than once, and more importantly - at least to Aramis at the time - forged his path into many a bed, and when their eyes meet his gaze drops immediately to Athos' throat, fastened on the sudden leap of his pulse.

"Another elegant complication," he says for the lofted tie, "And there are many uses, as Porthos and I have well found." Aramis' smile is a touch deviant, then, but he continues in earnest. "As for presentation, if you will permit me to show you?"

Aramis plucks Athos' own tie from the garment bag and steps behind him, tucking in quite close so he might drape his arms over Athos' shoulders. "This is called a Windsor knot," he murmurs, close enough to Athos' ear that he need not speak loudly at all, "Said to project confidence. It will be perfect for you. You see?"

His hands work, slowly enough that Athos can watch, his own hands and eyes so deft with a sword that Aramis knows he will pick it up at once. That is, if Aramis cannot manage to distract him, as he finds is his sudden aim. He watches Athos' profile as his hands work by rote, gaze falling eventually to the bow of his mouth. "When the knot is finished, you simply tug at the base and..."

With a breath, Aramis steps back in front of Athos and pulls the knot to completion. "Voilà."