Athos whimpers softly as they sketch out their plans, and he arches into the kiss eagerly. Fleetingly wishing that Porthos’ hair were long enough to bury his fingers in, his hands end up clasped at the man’s shoulders as he pulls him deeper into the embrace. As is so often the case when they are like this, just the mere talk of their plans threatens to overwhelm him, and he can do nothing but ride through his eagerness.