Athos makes a soft sound as Aramis presses close, his heart beating hard in his chest. His locket is comfortingly cool against his skin in sharp contrast to the heat of their hands. He can feel the flush rise on his cheeks, a result of want and sheepish embarrassment combined, and he forces himself to meet Aramis’ gaze when he shakes his head.

Swallowing hard, he rests back in Porthos’ arms, fingers trailing lightly down Aramis’ chest. “As you say, many firsts."