He isn’t going to last long, not like this. Aramis’ mouth is relentless, and Porthos’ fingers bruise his wrists, and it’s so much that he truly believed he would not feel again, so much he did not believe he would ever feel at all. “Wait,” he stutters, despite his pride more a moan than a word, “Aramis, I cannot…” Surely Aramis will not allow him to come like this. Surely, he should pull away. But both men hold him fast, and he cannot help but thrust into Aramis’ mouth as he nears completion and then spends with a trembling cry.