"Different," Aramis breathes, his focus strangely fragmented. He can feel Athos' cock sliding deep, all the way in just as he'd hoped, can feel Athos' nails biting at his thighs, Porthos' voice calling to him and Athos' pale eyes, piercing him all over again.

Athos' lips are parted, his pleasure plain to behold, and Aramis smiles down at him, grinding shallowly and shuddering as his suspicions are confirmed. "A little curved," he tells Porthos. "Slides right against - oh. Right against that spot." Lifting up slowly, Aramis begins to move, a little stunned for how easily he can angle Athos within him just right, forcing his hips to roll faster before he can stop them. "My God, Athos."