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[somepoorsoul]

Though he has spent much of the last week imagining Aramis and Porthos’ return - in anticipation, and joy, and a bit of fear - now that he knows the moment draws near, he finds himself teeming with uncertainties. There are things he must say - now, before the opportunity slips through his fingers forever, and all he has left is the memory of those moments in the stables, the press of lips against his and hands blissfully burning his skin. Athos still does not trust himself, and perhaps he never will, but he trusts his friends, more than he has trusted anyone. And so, there are things he must say.

But first, he must welcome his dear friends home. Athos has not attempted to make a meal for them, knowing that no meager fest he could concoct would match Porthos’ skill in the kitchen. But he has procured a few bottles of fine wine, one of which sits already open and half drunk on the kitchen counter. The steadying of his nerves has taken one, and then two, and three glasses. Now, shamefully, he pours himself a fourth.

He has never been very good with words.

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[somepoorsoul]

Athos’ pride twinges at the look of gentle concern in Aramis’ eyes, hating still the way his inexperience shines. But he nods and leans in close, pressing their foreheads together and allowing himself to take comfort in Aramis' assurances. He closes his eyes, and takes a breath, and thinks of Porthos, his eagerness and warmth, and how he would look, wild and undone. Such a heady thought bolsters his courage.

“I believe I would like to use my mouth,” he decides in a low murmur.

[du_vallon]

Porthos gapes at Athos for the suggestion, blinking at him with such stunned shock that for a moment, he isn't sure what he's supposed to say. Still, he's sure that, "Athos, are you sure? I'm not exactly small," is not what he should be saying, except he does. He should be begging, demanding yes please, but he's rife with concern about pushing him too far.

[afineseamstress]

"That is the truth," Aramis laughs, knees pressed to the sheets to lever himself upward. He curls his body around Athos', arms twined around his middle and chin hooked against his shoulder, just as it had been those weeks ago when he showed Athos how to do his tie. As with that day, Aramis feels awash in arousal and tenderness, and he gently pushes two of his fingers into Athos' mouth.

"Like this," he says, nosing at his cheek as he slides his fingers against Athos' tongue. "Show me how you would taste him." Gaze flicking over Athos' shoulder to Porthos, Aramis adds, "Show him what he'll be working with, hmm?"

[somepoorsoul]

“I appreciate your confidence in me,” Athos deadpans. Still, he flushes, and looks away, and wonders to himself what he was thinking to suggest such a thing when he hasn’t a blessed idea what he’s doing. But he isn’t a man to back down, and certainly will not allow nerves to get the best of him now.

Athos is startled by the bolt that goes through him when Aramis presses his fingers into his mouth. Inhaling carefully and closing his eyes, he runs his tongue experimentally along them, carefully but purposefully exploring. Heat coils in his belly at the mere thought that Porthos’ cock will be between his lips soon, his own desires startling him once again.

[du_vallon]

Porthos watches the both of them and slides to stand beside the bed, his gaze staring at Aramis' fingers inside of Athos' mouth, his moan transitioning into a happy sigh as he grasps the hem of his shirt to strip it off, settling his feet widely apart as he watches the both of them.

He tugs off his socks and then gets off his jeans, leaving him only in his boxers before he pulls them off, too, giving Athos a curious, expectant look. "Well, Aramis?" he muses. "Do you think he can take me?"

[afineseamstress]

Aramis hums in answer, watching the flush creep over Athos' cheeks as he adds a third finger, stretching his mouth wider. "You mustn't scrape him with your teeth," Aramis murmurs, lips close to Athos' ear. "Our Porthos has no taste for pain, as you well know."

He smirks at Porthos, pushing his fingers deeper into Athos' mouth. "Don't try to take him all the way, that's a thing that takes some practice. Listen to the sounds he makes, you'll know what he enjoys and what he doesn't. It will feel good to you, too."

Pulling his fingers free of Athos' mouth, Aramis grabs his head and kisses him deeply, grinning when they break apart. "He can take you," he calls to Porthos. "Sit and let him kneel between your legs."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos hums softly as Aramis’ fingers leave his mouth, and clings to him as they kiss, as though with the embrace Athos could absorb Aramis’ easy confidence. He swallows and looks at Porthos, seeking some shred of reassurance in his uncertain, expectant expression. Whether or not he finds it, he has come too far to change his mind now.

Taking a breath and nodding faintly, he moves across the bed once Porthos is seated, and catching his gaze for a moment, lowers himself to the floor. Running his hand up Porthos’ thighs, Athos looks up to meet his gaze with a faint smile. “If you will permit me."

[du_vallon]

Porthos laughs softly as he shakes his head, settling into where he's sitting on the bed, his palms running up and down his thighs as he studies Athos. He's still worried about Athos taking too much, too fast, but that part of his brain is quickly getting eclipsed by the part that wants this so badly, shivering with anticipation to think of Athos' mouth on his cock.

"God, please," he finally gives in and begs desperately and earnestly, a wild look in his eyes.

[afineseamstress]

Curling his body around Porthos now, it is his shoulder Aramis looks over, eyes keen on Athos where he kneels. "Now you are in my place," he whispers in Porthos' ear. "Those eyes of his." He noses at Porthos' stubbled cheek, arms wrapped around his middle.

"He's trembling," he tells Athos, mouth open against Porthos' throat. "He wants you so much."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos exhales softly, stomach tightening rather pleasantly as he first takes Porthos’ already hard cock in his hand and giving him a few firm strokes, watching his face all the while. He fears he will be a great disappointment - he knows that, at the very least, he cannot give as Aramis could - but Athos is determined to give Porthos what pleasure he can, even if it is less than he deserves. Still fighting nerves, but determined as ever, he runs his tongue experimentally along Porthos’ shaft, and then carefully takes him in his mouth.

[du_vallon]

Porthos is staring down at Athos like he's the most wondrous thing in the world. It's a look he's often given to Aramis -- besotted and boyish wonder -- and he slides his fingers into Athos' hair to curl softly, thumb brushing along his earlobe as he holds onto him, still shaking, still eager, and leaning his torso back against Aramis for the support. "I never imagined you on your knees in front of me," he gets the words out in a shaky rush, blinking rapidly as that wonder refuses to leave his eyes.

[afineseamstress]

Aramis shivers himself as Athos' lips part. He has seen that mouth in so many forms over the years, smirking, scowling, chastising, the rare grin, but never like this. Already his lips are thin and stretched, and Aramis' own give a phantom pang, having been where his are now so many times before. "He tastes sweet," he murmurs, almost to himself. "That was my very first thought upon tasting him."

[somepoorsoul]

Porthos’ response is enough to urge Athos on, push him past the discomfort of newness to the surprisingly blissful pleasure of the task. He remembers what Aramis had said, he responds to Porthos’ low moans and the needy tightening of his fingers in his hair. Athos pushes himself further, and then further still, and even when he starts to choke he pulls back only a little, desperate to give as much as he can manage, and already longing to give more.

[du_vallon]

After a full week of honeymoon bliss in which Aramis had brought him to the very edges of pleasure, Porthos had thought he couldn't be pushed any further, but the tentative way Athos moves and sucks is enough to prove him wrong. He turns his head to indulge in a lazy, comfortable easy kiss with Aramis, parting his lips so he can kiss all those words out of his mouth before he turns back to look at Athos again.

"M'not sweet," he protests in a gruff, hoarse voice.

[afineseamstress]

"You are," Aramis replies, "And now I have someone else to prove it." He kisses Porthos' cheek, refastening his mouth to the curve of his throat to feel his pulse raise against his own lips, a delicious but pale shadow of what Athos tastes below.

Aramis looks down at him, his red cheeks and his wide, determined eyes, and reaches, stroking his fingers over the veins in Athos' hand. "And you are still very beautiful. Let him slide along your tongue," he says, fingers moving back and forth across Athos' hand.

[somepoorsoul]

Though the touch is light, that play of Aramis’ fingers across his hand is enough to send a shiver through Athos, all his nerves afire. He is growing hard, and is yet too focused to be ashamed of what Porthos’ cock between his lips is doing to him. He does as instructed, sliding his tongue along the length as he had done to Aramis’ fingers not long ago, and with a hum he again chances taking more into his mouth. His jaw aches, but surely nothing could be less important than that.

[du_vallon]

Porthos is struck by an idea when Athos takes him deep and he scrambles for purchase, his hands gripping Athos' hair a little tighter as a whimper is ripped from the base of his throat. "You have no idea how much I want to find out if you're that hot inside as you are with your mouth," he rambles, letting the floodgates loose to let the filth spill from his lips. "I bet you're so tight and hot inside," he pants, trying so hard not to thrust into Athos' lips even though he's taking him deeper than Porthos might have expected.

"Or better yet, me on top of you riding and showing you that a woman's cunt isn't the only thing worth fucking," he rambles.

[afineseamstress]

"My fault, I'm afraid," says Aramis, voice calm even as his hips hitch against Porthos' back, arousal pooling low despite his recent release. He cards his own fingers through Athos' hair, gentle in counterpoint to Porthos' tugs, and reaches down to stroke his jaw where he knows the ache is greatest. "I meant to teach him the joy of anticipation, and instead I taught him to want everything, all the time, by giving him just that."

[somepoorsoul]

But Athos hardly minds Porthos' eagerness: the groan that Porthos’ words pull from his lips surprises even him, twisting in his belly and making his cock throb. Like so many thoughts that have danced through his head this day, Athos will be horrified by his need when all is over, but now, in the midst of passion, he is lost in the beautiful moment. Even more than when the attention was on him, the hands in his hair and the taste of Porthos on his tongue make him tremble. He works with determined enthusiasm, fingers digging into Porthos’ thighs, wanting desperately to make Porthos come.

[du_vallon]

"Fuck," Porthos swears gutturally, because between Athos' mouth on his cock and Aramis pressing up against him, he wants so badly to be inside someone or to have someone inside him, but he knows that can come after. Right now, he stares down at Athos fondly, reaching out to slide his fingers over Athos' and grip just as tightly. "Athos, sweet, I need you to ease off, okay?" he gets out, his words strained and soft.

"Take your mouth off me, just a touch," he instructs, because he doesn't want to end this poorly with Athos choking when the alternative of Porthos' come spilling over his lips and chin far, far too appealing.

[afineseamstress]

Aramis presses kisses to Porthos' shoulder and slides from behind him, joining Athos on his knees on the floor. "His release is as big as the rest of him," he explains, lest Athos think he has done something wrong. "Too much, too soon, and we'll see you choking."

He pulls one of Athos' hands from Porthos' grip, guiding it back in the cramped space between Porthos and the bed to rest his fingertips just behind his balls. "I know you want to feel him come," he says, nose brushing Athos' cheek as he guides his fingers, pressing rhythmically against that hot pleasure point. "I want to see it, too. Go on, Athos."

[somepoorsoul]

With a small, shaky nod, Athos obeys, pulling almost all the way back. He allows Aramis to guide him, silently grateful, his nerves spiking as Porthos nears his orgasm, though he does not dare stop. His eyes have been half-closed; now they open and he raises his gaze to watch Porthos’ face.

[du_vallon]

Aramis had been right. Those eyes looking at him like this is more than enough and if it weren't, the whole situation is. Aramis and Athos both on their knees before them, like he's something to be cherished and served and wanted. When he comes, his whole face crumples with adoration and gratitude, gasping Athos' name as he wildly reaches out and finds Aramis' hair, grasping those much-beloved strands to hold onto as he throws his head back and comes, his sigh turning into a low, content moan.

"So blue," is all he manages, when he calms his heart. "Your eyes are so, so blue."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis curls a hand around Porthos' calf and watches, torn between the vision of Porthos in ecstasy, one of his favorite sights in the world, and one that is soon to join it. Dropping his eyes to the man on his knees before him, Aramis places his other hand low on Athos' back, rubbing slow circles while Porthos fills his mouth. They are both so beautiful, and Aramis twists his head against Porthos' grip, seeking a sting to distract him before his heart wells up and spills over, too.

[somepoorsoul]

For all Athos believes himself prepared, he still splutters and gasps, trying not to choke, trying to remember to breathe through his nose. He can feel the come running down his chin, and it’s humiliating, yes, but for Porthos’ pleasure, he does not care very much. His aching jaw serves as a heady memory of what he has done, and he sags back into Aramis’ embrace, still looking up at Porthos with wide eyes.