Athos just shakes his head, but the look in his eyes is too bright and too full of warmth for him to express any real anger. Let them call him whatever idiotic names of love they wish, just as long as he can remain in their arms.

Dizzy from the power of the kiss, Athos wraps one arm around Porthos’ waist, relief flooding him at the feel of being back in these arms, the wall between them melting away. Athos will likely never think himself worthy of Porthos, not really, but at least he knows that now, like this, he can bring the man happiness. Finally taking in his changed appearance properly, Athos runs a hand over Porthos’ shorn head, faintly amused. “You cut your hair."