InsaneJournal

The Captain’s Manor Inn was picturesque and the weather had been perfect for an intimate ceremony under a gazebo. Even now, sitting back against the headboard of the bed in their charming little suite, Porthos could feel the cool breeze from the open window. Of course, he wasn’t really paying attention to it. His skin still felt warm from the sun that had rode low in the sky during their nuptials, but he wasn’t paying attention to that either.

All of Porthos’ attention was on Aramis. His husband. Bloody brilliant, that word. Knowing it was legal, at least in most places. God forbid everyone in the world get over their rubbish hate all at once. Porthos looked at Aramis with his heart in his eyes and tugged at the collar of his tux, loosening it.

“Have I told you how bloody handsome you look?” He had - a half dozen times at least. Porthos flashed a warm grin and beckoned Aramis closer. “Come here, husband. Lemmie get a closer look.”

“As if I ever mind hearing how handsome I am,” Aramis responded back with a bright smile, even from across the room. He was - affectionately called - a nester, prone to overpacking and tidying up an area, making himself at home. He liked his comfort, even when they were back in France and camping out in the middle of the countryside, Aramis had his routine of things to do.

It likely could have been set aside for the sake of his wedding night, but the quicker he put away their things and unpacked their bathroom items, the more at ease he’d feel. Routine would do something to get rid of his nervous energy he had.

Ridiculous nervous energy, as it was. Aramis had never felt more at ease, more comforted, more at home with anyone than he did with Porthos. And it wasn’t as if they hadn’t been cohabitating for years now, not to mention the co-parenting over the last year. But somehow, now, it just made him jittery, thinking about the future. He blew out a breath before finally glancing back at Porthos, easy smile on his lips when he spotted his husband tugging at the collar. “Give me a minute. And don’t you dare remove a piece of that suit before I can get to you.”

There were times when Porthos was well and truly incapable of reading people. Even the ones closest to him. But he was paying such close attention to Aramis now that it was hard to miss the shiftiness in his eyes. Porthos raised his eyebrows and sat up, pushing up onto move to the end of the bed on his knees. His fingers still tugged at his collar but now it was with a distracted curiosity in his gaze. Nothing about Aramis’ demeanor through the ceremony had seemed spooked, so Porthos was worried. Just interested in whatever was bumping around inside Aramis’ head now.

“Aramis, we’re only here for the weekend. You hardly need to give everything we have a place.” He sat back on his haunches. “But if you insist,” Porthos sighed dramatically, “I suppose I can wait. Here. By myself in bed.”

Aramis huffed out a laugh but Porthos was far from bothering him with the dramatics. It also didn't stop him from finishing up, either. They had similar arguments everytime they went on a mission or camped - or even returned home and had to unpack. That wasn't to say he couldn't be distracted from it, as Porthos managed all the damn time, but it still gave him a sense of calm to get it done.

When he was finished in the bathroom, he flipped the light off and turned toward the bed, hand gently tugging to loosen his blue tie. He couldn't help the heated, serious expression that he leveled on Porthos. “Do you ever wonder if this is all too good to be true? You, me, marriage, managing to be a halfway decent father…. I am eternally thankful and still wondering if I've been too greedy to have it all.”

Porthos was sitting on the end of the bed when Aramis came back into the room, with his feet on the ground. He’d considering going in after him for half a second, but he knew it was better to just stay put and wait for Aramis to get his routines out of the way. Sure enough, it was only a minute, and Aramis reaching for his tie was promising. His words caught up with Porthos eventually, though, and when they did, Porthos leaned forward to wrap a hand around the back of Aramis’ thigh, pulling him into the space between his bent knees.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Then I remember all the shit we went through to get here. I didn’t think we’d get anywhere near this life, not really. But haven’t we earned it, Aramis?” Porthos pressed his forehead to Aramis’ stomach and hugged his legs. “I think we’ve bloody earned it. But I’d fight tooth and nail for it even if we stole it, to be fair.”

Aramis dropped a hand onto Porthos’ hair almost immediately, threading his fingers through the curls. He smiled down at his new spouse, and was wholly distracted from removing his tie by the warm presence now pressing into him.

“Make no mistake, there’s nothing I’d do differently here, especially as you’re concerned. This last almost-year has been one of the best of my lifetime, Porthos, a great deal because of you.” Finally, he let his hands wander from Porthos’ head, and down to the collar of his crisp, white shirt. Threading a finger under the tie, he tugged on it gently until it started coming undone. “You know me. I just like to worry that having something too good means I’m tempting fate and being particularly selfish.”

“Yeah, I know,” Porthos murmured. Lifting his eyes to Aramis’ face gave him a nice view and it gave Aramis better access to his collar. He smiled sympathetically. God knew Aramis had plenty of reasons to wonder if the rug might be pulled out from under him for getting what he wanted. “You have a history of not being allowed to have something good. That’d make anyone nervous.”

Porthos’ hands stayed around Aramis’ legs, but now he caressed the back of his thighs. Soothing was what he was aiming for, but hell, if it transitioned into something else, Porthos wasn’t going to be upset about it. The thought brought a heated glint to his otherwise gentle gaze.

“But you’re a good man, Aramis. You deserve to be happy. Fuck fate,” Porthos grinned up at him. “I’ll be right there beside you to fight her off if she gets uppity about it.”

“I have you. I have the Musketeers. I have Louis.” Aramis breathed out the reply in turn, firm, even with as light as his voice was. These were things he knew he had that were good regardless of everything else around them. “Even home, I have--” Well, considering he’d been a monk for a short period of time right before arriving, and they’d been separated by his own choice. “God.” He finished the sentence lamely, not wavering in his belief but not sure it was the thing he needed most.

It didn’t help that Porthos was doing a remarkable job of distracting him. He yanked on the tie, pulling it out of his husband’s collar and tossing it aside before unbuttoning the top two buttons with one hand. “You’re happy, yes?” It wasn’t as if he doubted it, but he did like to hear that sort of praise.

Porthos lifted a skeptical eyebrow at “God” - the only break in an otherwise fond expression - and smiled a little wider when Aramis’ hands went back to working on his clothes. He lifted his chin without hesitation, trusting and exposed, and tugged Aramis’ dress shirt out from under his belt while he was at it. Musketeers were good at multitasking.

“Happy isn’t a big enough word, Aramis,” Porthos laughed. “I--when I was little and on my own, I used to picture a family. It was just this vague thing. I barely knew what a family even was then, only that thinking about my mother made me feel a sort of hollowness, like someone had carved out a chunk of my heart and forgot to put it back. You...you’ve always done a damn good job of making my heart feel full again, Aramis. You and Louis together? It’s overflowing.”

Aramis mumbled under his breath in Spanish, a breathless saying that was part exasperated with Porthos’ clothes not coming off and part exhilarated in his husband’s words. It was so rushed out he would have been shocked if Porthos caught any of it, but the blush creeping down his neck and across his chest was telling enough for the situation.

“I love you.” He would never tire of saying it, especially not now. Aramis’ hands both worked between removing more clothes and trailing across Porthos’ smooth skin. “I am all too happy to give you that home, love, because I couldn’t picture it being whole and final without you involved.” He leaned down to steal a firm, quick kiss.

Between the Spanish and the blush, Porthos’ grin grew three sizes. He tucked his hands up under Aramis’ shirt and caressed up his back, pulling him in closer. It was so bloody mental that they were here, that they’d just gotten married, and yet nothing in Porthos’ life besides becoming a Musketeer had ever felt as meant to be. Now, he didn’t believe in fate and all that rubbish. But he did believe in Aramis.

“God, we are wretched saps, aren’t we?” Chuckling, he turned his head to kiss one of Aramis’ hands where it rested on his skin. “I love you. We’re gonna have a great life. You believe that, right? That we can do this?”

“Unbelievable saps, and I do love it.” Aramis’ laugh was full of joy as he leaned down to kiss Porthos again. He did believe in fate, and the wonderment of this is where they were supposed to be in life at this moment. He didn’t know what the future held, no one could - well, some could, if the people of Fair Harbor were any indication - but he did know that he wanted to experience whatever it was with Porthos. And the rest of their extended family.

“I believe,” Aramis leaned back a bit, to stare down at Porthos with his warm eyes. “That we can do anything we put our minds to, so long as we’re doing it together.” He brought their joined hands - the ones with their wedding rings, no less - together so he could kiss the bands. “And I don’t mean to hurry this lovely speech along, but do you think we could get on with the honeymoon part?”

“Mm. Together.” Porthos nodded, mock-serious and eyes at a contemplative squint. It didn’t last very long, as far as cons go. His starry-eyed grin was back almost immediately and his voice turned taunting. “I feel like there’s a saying for that. All for one, and one for….”

He abruptly yanked Aramis into his lap and rolled at the same time, pinning his husband to the bed beneath him. His heated gaze traced Aramis’ face slowly, lovingly. Then his fingertips followed a similar path along the curve of Aramis’ cheek, before he cupped his hand there.
“...Well, two for getting to the honeymoon part, obviously. Pretty certain that’s how that line goes,” he finished, laughter in his words. His head dipped low for a kiss. The kind that took things from gentle to passionate in a hurry. He hoped Aramis had remembered to lock the door. Because they weren’t leaving this bed for a long damn time, if had any say in the matter.