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[somepoorsoul]

Athos awakens in a weary haze of memories. Though the clock tells him it is mid-morning, he feels simultaneously like he has slept for days and not at all. A few moments pass before he realizes why he cannot shake the sights as senses of his childhood - the smell of forget-me-nots, Catherine’s bright red hair (he has not even thought of her for ages), Thomas’ boyish laughter. Then he remembers, and he exhaustedly presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He is tempted to remain abed until someone comes looking, but that would only delay his shame, and anyway, Athos is too honorable. He dresses slowly in garments that once again seem familiar as he tries to piece together the last few days, memories coming to him as though being relayed by someone else. Sheepishly, he misses the body and heart of his youth; he had been frightened and shy, world-weary too soon, but free and unfettered in a way he has not felt in some time.

Unfettered, perhaps, but also a fool. He has matters to explain, and hearts to mend.

When Athos carefully comes downstairs, his eyes are red-rimmed, and though he has tried to put himself back together, he knows he must still appear out-of-sorts. He can already smell coffee, thank goodness. But whether or not Aramis and Porthos will welcome his company is something he has yet to discover.

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[somepoorsoul]

“A year,” Athos says, half to himself, for if it seems a lifetime to Aramis, it seems like no time at all to him. He flushes faintly and nearly smiles, but his heart isn’t in it. He wonders if they realize how much their future child already occupies their conversation, their very being. “From the moment this child is conceived, you will be lost to me,” he tells them with a rueful note in his voice.

[du_vallon]

"How's that?" Porthos wonders, genuinely. "We won't be able to see the mother who's carrying the babe more than a few times, as ruled by the lawyers," he says, his brow furrowed. "Aramis might have a board," he jokes, "but that's still our time with you until the very end. I promise, at least on my behalf."

[afineseamstress]

"And mine," Aramis also promises, "But Athos. Wanting a child is part of me. Any time you spend with me will be spent with that desire, too. It has not slowed down my time with either of you. I think of children many times a day, but that has not stopped me looking after Porthos just as much." Curling his body around Athos, Aramis hooks his chin against his shoulder and nods to his husband. "Do you think he suffers from my inattentions?"

[somepoorsoul]

Athos snorts softly, and for a moment he does not trust himself to speak for the lump that rises in his throat. He cannot argue, and yet neither can he shake off his misgivings. He needs more time, but how can he ask for it? Together, Aramis and Porthos are an undeniable force, a set that moves together in everything, two men with the same dreams and power of will. Perhaps the lesson here is that he must learn to accept that.

He curls into them both, no more settled, but unsure what else to say. Well, except for one thing, something he has only so-very-recently found the strength to say.

“I love you."

[du_vallon]

Porthos softens for the words, smiling with such relief and love as he leans in to squeeze Athos' shoulder, mouthing at his neck as he closes in tight. "We love you too," he promises. "And I'm so beyond glad that you're back to normal," he confesses. "I missed you more than I can say."

[afineseamstress]

"We both have," says Aramis, carding fingers through Athos' hair, "So much. And I promise you will not be neglected. It is alright if you don't believe me, for I mean to show you."

Aramis noses at his jaw, savoring the return of his beard. "After so many years trying to keep the pair of you alive despite your best efforts, merely making you happy will be easy."

[somepoorsoul]

This time, Athos really does laugh, tucking his face against Aramis’ neck and breathing in the scent of him, struggling to find some peace in him, and in the feel of Porthos’ arms around him. “I have missed you more, I think,” he says, hating how rough his voice sounds, even as he tries to smile.

[du_vallon]

Porthos grins as he keeps hold of the both of them as tightly as he can, unwilling to let either of them go when he needs them both too much. "I'm also using the money for something else," he feels inclined to share. "Only seventy-five percent is being kept for us. The rest, I'm using to make steady donations to the shelter and the hospital. For kids like me."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis glows with pride, grinning wide against the curve of Athos' throat. "If any have the smallest fraction of your goodness," he tells Porthos, "And I know they have, your investment will be returned. And one day when we have the knack for it, we will take them in, too."

Hugging Athos to himself, no small feat when they are all entangled, Aramis hums. "You see? We are still the same mad creatures you have always been tied to."

[somepoorsoul]

“Oh no, this is a very different sort of madness,” Athos says with a roll of his eyes, plenty of jesting in his words. Plenty of people would have called him mad for preferring the sort of madness that had ruled them at home, which tended to lead to acts of miraculously death-defying stupidity. This madness is so much more quiet, but still utterly foreign. Who has ever heard of two men choosing to raise a child in such a way - and who could have imagined these two men in particular could want to so badly? “Nothing to do for it, I suppose.”

He looks at Porthos with a gentle look, unsurprised by his generosity, but no less warmed by it. “You are the best of men,” he says with simple surety, brushing the back of his hand on the man’s rough cheek.

[du_vallon]

Porthos flushes red for the attention, having not expected such kindness from Athos when he'd only been doing the thing that he feels the money is good for, especially when he considers that he wouldn't have spent it if not for that condition. "It's the only reason I'm using the rest. I need to know some of it is going to good," he notes quietly.

He gives Aramis a fond grin. "What else did he miss, chou?"

[afineseamstress]

"Because talk of a home and children were not enough," muses Aramis, "And your shorn head. I believe we have managed enough upheaval in the time you spent as a youth," he tells Athos with a smile.

He drags his fingers through Athos' hair, moving easily on to skim Porthos' scalp before he lets his hand fall. "Porthos and I ate chocolates off one another," he offers suddenly. "But I imagine that is to be expected."

[somepoorsoul]

It is the sort of ridiculous answer Athos had expected when they had first spoken of how they had spent their time in his (spiritual if not literal) absence, and that makes him grin wryly, softening a bit in the glow of their smiles. In their happiness, he tells himself, surely he can find a bit of his own. If not for his own sake, then theirs. He only wishes their dreams were not so baffling and different, so entirely separate from his own.

He hums softly and closes his eyes, appreciating the soothing feel of Aramis’ fingers in his hair. “It is good to be back,” he says again, and despite the misgivings in his heart about what is to come, he means it.

[du_vallon]

Porthos smiles softly for the words, curling in closely with Athos now that the telling of secrets are done. "You're gonna stay now, right? I mean, neither of us would complain if you decided to grow a pair of tits," he says off-hand and crudely. "Feel free to do that."