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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.

Comments

[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.

[du_vallon]

Porthos can't take being above him another moment, especially not when Athos looks at him the way he does. He goes crashing down to the floor, on his knees, and wraps his arm around Athos' back to haul him into his arms, kissing every last drop of himself from off Athos' skin before he turns his head to Aramis, a dazed and happy look on his face.

"Kiss me," he instructs. "And then pinch me because I swear, we're still on our honeymoon and I'm dreaming."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis lifts up on his knees, kissing Porthos tenderly. He is so beautiful when he is truly happy, and Aramis gives him an obliging pinch, soft rather than sharp. He turns to Athos after, kissing him just as tenderly, even as the taste of Porthos on his Athos' lips is enough to heat his blood. "All right?" he murmurs, turning Athos' head in his hands so he can kiss his tender jaw.

[somepoorsoul]

Athos sighs into the kisses, clinging to Porthos and Aramis in turn. The last hour or so seems to be catching up with him, leaving him overwhelmed, and elated, and exhausted in turn. And yet, by God, he still aches with want.

He manages a nod, swallowing a few times before he trusts himself to speak. “You?” he asks Porthos over Aramis’ shoulder, voice rasping a little.

[du_vallon]

Porthos growls at the sound of Athos' voice, hauling him up into his arms and throwing him onto the bed, cocking his brow up before he does the same to Aramis, lifting him up and hooking his elbows under Aramis' knees to carry him over to his side. "Athos, dear, you look like you still have a problem," he clucks his tongue with sympathy as he crawls over the both of them, giving Athos' cock a stroke.

"I'm more than good," he promises, assuring the both of them with a fond smile. "Beyond happy that this is the first days of our new life."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis curls into Porthos as much as he is able, both an instinct and a habit now. After a week of nothing but this man and their bodies twined together it feels strange to be far apart, even in inches, and he smiles at Athos as he nuzzles against Porthos' skin. Reaching, he slides a palm down Athos' side, fingers spreading high on his inner thigh.

"What do you need, Athos?" he asks. "Ask for anything, you will receive it, I promise you. We have long ago accepted our own unending need for one another."

[somepoorsoul]

“It’s all right,” Athos insists shakily, feeling his cheeks flush. He has taken so much already, he has laid bare one base desire after another, and surely he deserves no further pleasure.

And yet he arches needily at the touch, his body betraying what he cannot admit to wanting still.

[du_vallon]

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.

[afineseamstress]

"I am never not inclined," says Aramis without shame, and he pulls Athos towards himself and Porthos, tugging their hips flush so Athos can feel that he, too, is hard again. "We asked you to share our bed, Athos, and I know you did not expect that to mean mostly sleeping." He leans in, mouthing hot and wet along Athos' throat, indulging himself with a shift of his arse back against Porthos. "How shall we make you feel good?"

[somepoorsoul]

Athos whines as their bodies press together and Aramis latches his mouth onto his throat. Porthos’ suggestion is tempting, but too much for him to grasp onto without fear; he feels as though he is falling down a well, trying to cling to slippery walls with no success, and even knowing that all that waits below is a warm embrace, terror still grips him. His heart is just too full for much more boldness.

He ducks his head away from Aramis’ mouth, burying his face against the other man’s shoulder where it meets his neck so that he might hide his flush of shame. Surely, he will disappoint them now. “Just touch me,” he says to both of them, voice gruff.

[du_vallon]

Porthos smiles as if privately, nudging his nose against Aramis' bare shoulder and nipping for the rocking motion back against him. He thinks of one of their first times together and thinks of how Aramis had placed his mouth somewhere all-together unexpected, but also how a hand could do the same. He squeezes Aramis' arse as he clambers over the both of them to position himself behind Athos, able to wrap his arms around the both of them and hold tight.

He strokes with his open palm, up and down Athos' side to smirk at Aramis. "See? I was right naming the cat what I did. They do share the uncanny desire for touch."

[afineseamstress]

"A theory I am pleased to see proven at last," says Aramis, stroking Athos' hair before he takes it in a gentle grip, pulling his head back so he can kiss him until that flush springs from something sweeter than shame.

He drags his fingers down Athos' other side, watching with pleasure as Athos' pale skin is covered by their own. "Say the word and we will never stop touching you," he promises, reaching below to take them both in hand, sighing happily as he begins to stroke. "Would that I had a larger hand," he says with a significant look over Athos' shoulder. "This would be even better."

[somepoorsoul]

Athos snorts at them both, a tiny grin pulling at his lips. Their shared embrace and steady smiles settle him - or at least settle him enough that he might be again unsettled in a sweeter way. Athos still waits in fear for the moment when they say, 'no, you were not what we thought you would be,' but miraculously, it does not yet come. He sighs shakily at the touch, and lifts an eyebrow at Aramis.

“Were that the case, you would never do anything else."

[du_vallon]

Porthos shakes his head wryly and huffs out a soft laugh as he reaches forward to replace Aramis' hand with his own larger one, able to take the both of them in hand to stroke lazily with no real rush to finish them off. "Aramis complains sometimes about this," he informs Athos softly. "Thinks he looks small with my hand on him."

[afineseamstress]

"I don't complain," says Aramis, eyes drifting shut when Porthos' hand closes around them both, huge and warm. It is a loose grip, and the movement slow, but Aramis' body is too attuned to Porthos' to feel anything but a rush of pleasure. His whole body hums with it, and to feel Athos' hardness against his own is enough to push an eager whimper from his throat. "I merely observe," he says, stroking fingers that tremble over Athos' chest and shoulders, smoothing the beard that adorns his proud jaw until he can draw him into a kiss. "His girlish fingers made for a better visual," he confesses on a whisper.

[somepoorsoul]

“Only a fool would complain.” Athos smirks, and his breath catches as the touch and the nearness of them both fills him with pleasure. Even when he cocks a skeptical brow at Aramis’ last comment, he cannot bring himself to voice any disapproval when they are like this. His fingers ghost over Aramis’ hair, settling and tightening at the nape of his neck as they kiss, but Porthos is the whispered name on Athos’ lips, thinking not only of his hand on him now, but the taste of him minutes before.

[du_vallon]

Porthos smirks, knowing the jibe against him is light-hearted and besides, it had painted a whole new delightful picture when he'd been a woman. For Aramis' comment (and Athos'), he tightens his grip on the both of them, picking up his pace while he moves his other hand to rub circles at Athos' shoulderblades, as if he can somehow undo the tension.

"I know you love my hands," he informs Aramis. "No matter what size they come in. You make the prettiest noises when I touch you, s'how I know."