Eyes closed, Aramis drifts a moment, body singing with the aftermath of Athos' touch, and he smiles faintly to realize that it continues, soft kisses dropped on his skin until the wet heat behind his eyes has nothing to do with pain at all. Aramis blinks them open, agreeing without knowing just who Porthos is speaking of, but it doesn't matter. Right now, they are all three of them perfect.

He turns an unfocused smile on Athos, a little wondering still that they are finally here, naked body and soul, and reaches for Porthos' hand. "It was perfect," he agrees.