Athos falters at Porthos’ words, abruptly aware of his relative inexperience and the fool he will surely make of himself. He does not have long to contemplate, though, for all of a sudden, Porthos is lifted him into his arms like a sack of flour and carrying him bodily into the bedroom. He yelps a protest, and when he is deposited on the bed next to Aramis, flushed and hair tousled, he glares.

At least, he tries to glare.

“I should hit you for that."