"A better idea than me fucking you?" Aramis asks, and he could blame the man for thinking it impossible, for his voice is gravelled and his breaths still fast, but Aramis knows he could manage it.

"I think not. But I imagine we can keep you occupied while we wait for my body to catch up." Turning his head, he looks back to Athos, still beautifully disheveled beneath him, and can't help but lean down to claim a kiss. "Perhaps we start by preparing him," he murmurs against Athos' lips, and kisses him again. "He'll be so hot around your fingers."