Porthos presses a kiss that's so firm and so adoring to Athos' messy hair, burying his face in it until he can only barely peer up and over it to stare fondly at Aramis, pleased that they're the ones who've brought him over the edge the way that no one has in so, so long. "That's it," he soothes and coaxes him through the orgasm. "That's it," he promises. "Aramis can take it and I've got you."