Comte Olivier d'Athos de la Fere

Porthos presses a fond kiss to Aramis' shoulder, letting his lips rest there as he watches Athos with a private smile, tangling up the sheets to cover them from any chill in the bedroom -- grateful for their silk sheets and the massive space. "I can think of so many things," he admits. "I'm a bit too shaky to ride you, but Aramis might feel inclined?" he suggests, eyes wide.