PORTHOS + ARAMIS
G | COMPLETE
POST-ANNE SHOWING UP ANXIETY CHAT
Aramis had hoped that climbing into bed the night before would earn him a little measure of forgiveness from Porthos - or at least ease a little worry coming from the other Musketeer. But things were tense, to say the least, and the looks Porthos had been throwing out for the last day had been enough to set him on edge.
He couldn’t cook worth a damn, product of his own environment and being spoiled enough by those around him that they just gave him food. Or he lived on bread. But he could slip out of Porthos house early enough to get breakfast pastries, deliver a few to a still-sleeping Athos, and make his way back to Porthos’ house, pastries in hand. He left a few on the kitchen counter before sneaking back into Porthos room - never as quiet as he actually intended to be. The door shutting too loud and bumping into a nearby chair while cursing quietly was probably more than enough to ruin the idea of sneaking back into bed.
“Traitor,” Aramis whispered to the door after it’s quiet slam.
Porthos thought he was doing a much better job of hiding his emotions than he actually was, of course. As was always the case. He thought if he just held his shoulders high and hid his glower behind genuine helpfulness, then the anxiety in his gut would eventually ease off. Which was stupid and a little cowardly, but his options were limited by how badly he didn’t want to lose what he had with Aramis here. A smarter man would’ve just ripped the bandage off.
“This is twice you’ve woken me up in one night, ‘mis,” Porthos grumbled from half under a crumpled pillow. He’d slept terribly and it showed in the tangle of the bedclothes. Technically, it was morning anyway and he had things to be done. But those were just distractions. He poked his head out from under the pillow and squinted one-eyed across the room. “You don’t have to do...this, you know.”
Normally, Aramis lived for that grumpy, sleep-filled tone. He had chuckled over it many times over the years, kissed it away and even tried to find ways to alleviate it, but now it made him frown. He knew he should've forced conversation last night, but instead he'd been cowardly enough and afraid that Porthos was angry at him. When he hadn't been kicked out of the bed after showing up, he was all too happy to just snuggle.
But now it was morning, and the rapidly rising fear that Porthos was going to be noble or run away from him was first and foremost on his brain.
He sat down on the empty edge of the bed - his empty edge - and held up the box of pastries. “Do what? Get breakfast? Everyone needs to eat, Porthos.”
Soften the blow, Porthos thought. Not for the first time, he nearly wished Aramis was less Aramis - kind and beautiful and annoyingly charming. It’d be a lot easier to keep him at a best mate but nothing more distance. Somewhere just far enough away that Porthos could properly pretend he wasn’t stupidly in love with him and all of this wouldn’t sting so much. But in truth, Porthos wouldn’t change Aramis for the world. His grumpiness climbed a notch, though, looking at Aramis now with what smelled like delicious treats held out.
“I’m not really hungry,” he mumbled. It could probably have sounded dismissive if he hadn’t also scooted up to sit against the headboard, pillow jammed behind his back. “Maybe later?”
“As you wish,” Aramis bowed his head slightly in agreement, but his face fell ever so little. It was hard not to let it show, as Porthos backed off. But he didn’t force himself in closer, as much as he wanted to lean in for a kiss, instead, he just .. stayed there. Quiet for a second.
“Anne and I talked-” He probably shouldn’t have started it off just like that, so Aramis rushed on, leveling a look at Porthos. “I told her, how accepting this world is. And what you mean to me.” That part was said with his eyes attempting to meet Porthos own warm ones. “She wanted me to pass onto you that she is interested in our happiness, and apologizes for any uneasiness she caused you in her arrival.”
Even if he knew Porthos was upset, Aramis couldn’t be unhappy she was here. The ship for them might have sailed, but with her brought a great deal of love bundled in her arms, and there was little Aramis would do for that. “I know it’s a lot, Porthos.”
Confusion furrowed the space between Porthos’ eyebrows. “You told her...about us?” The why was on the tip of his tongue, but not even his surprise knocked it free just yet. For the moment, he only sat up a little straighter and shook his head.
“I don’t understand. You were just telling someone two days ago that you love her and had a baby with her, now they’re here. Without her weasel husband.” He pushed a hand through his sleep-crazy curls, tugging for a moment before trying to breathe the tension out of himself with a huff. Still, he couldn’t quite hold Aramis’ gaze. “You said that thing to me at home...about maybe in another life. It doesn’t get much other life than this, Aramis.”
Aramis’ brows furrowed, and his chest deflated a little. Porthos obviously trying to push him towards Anne made him falter, and in a way he both wanted to strangle him and hug him for it. “I do love her,” he wasn’t about to lie, not now. “I’ll likely die loving her.” That wouldn’t be reassuring, he knew it, and he also knew he’d never spoken much to Porthos about his feelings on this matter, aside from their one conversation following the outing of the Dauphin’s parentage.
“Just,” He kept looking at Porthos, even if his gaze wasn’t returned. “As I love you. I had been operating with the idea that this was our “another life, but I-” God, his heart hurt now. The realization that Porthos thought he would just be dropped to the side while Aramis flit off with Anne - he wanted to refute that. But he couldn’t blame his lover for having that very thought, given… well, everything. “I am the worst kind of human to make you think that you are taking second place here. No wonder you’re upset with me. That was never my intention, even if I know my record back home has been… less than stellar.”
Aramis admitting he would always love the queen did sting, but not in an especially surprising way. He knew Aramis loved well. He’d been reaping the benefits of that himself, if only for a little while. But he couldn’t deny it surprised him that Aramis was talking like he didn’t mean to join Anne and make something of a family with her.
“Aramis, don’t--you’re not a terrible person and I’m not upset with you. I…” Porthos criss-crossed his legs in front of him and leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees and face going into his palms for a second. “I just assumed...I mean, you had one family taken away from you. I thought if you had the chance to have this one, why wouldn’t you take it?” His hands fell away from his face and he swallowed. “You’re my family, but that doesn’t mean I’m what you need, you know? I just want you to be happy.”
Unable to help himself, Aramis reached out to run a hand into Porthos’ curls, hopefully with the intention of soothing any hurt there. He didn’t know if it would work, but he damn well was going to try. And he couldn’t blame Porthos for thinking as he did, since if their roles had been reversed, he likely would have been in the exact same spot.
“You are just as much my family, Porthos.” He put the box of pastries on the side table and scooted a little further onto the bed, knees touching the side of Porthos’ thighs. “Anne is giving me the chance to be a father here, without any other expectations.” Which he was eternally grateful, and it likely showed on his face, along with the little smirk he gave. “The Dauphin wasn’t born entirely out of a passionate affair, you know. She wanted a child, it didn’t mean she wanted me. I think she’s more than a little fond of the idea of freedom, here.”
Aramis reached forward to nudge Porthos, “But that doesn’t make you a second choice.”
Most people would’ve gotten a glare for touching Porthos’ hair without asking, but Aramis had carte blanche at this point. He had carte blanche with all of Porthos really, but more than that, Porthos leaned into the touch and closed his eyes to savor it for a moment. It eased a great deal of the worry in his heart to hear Aramis say he was just as much his family, and warmed it even more to see the effect of Anne letting Aramis be a father to his son one way or the other.
“That...makes sense,” he admitted, glancing over with a soft stare. “That she’d appreciate the freedom here. She hasn’t had enough choice in how her life has unfolded.” He reached over to take Aramis’ hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a few lingering kisses to his palm. “I’m so bloody happy for you, having Louis here. I’m sorry I uh, let my uncertainty get in the way of saying as much. I just didn’t know how to do this. How to fight for us without feeling like I was keeping you from something I know would fill your heart with joy.”
It was more of a relief than he knew, when Porthos let his guard down. He’d been angry at Aramis before, and was always the shittest feeling he’d ever experienced - with no desire to bring it around again. And then, of course, he was inevitably dumb and brought it around again.He scooted in a little closer, unable to resist Porthos, as it seemed like he was able to.
“As much as I enjoy you fighting,” And oh, he did, his eyes warmed just at the thought. “I would never make you battle over something like that. You make me happy, Porthos. Being given a chance to play a part in Louis’ life that isn’t just a random Musketeer also makes me happy. There’s no competition here, if you’ll still let me have you just the same.”
Porthos had a habit of knee-jerking into cynical when it came to how people felt about him, he knew that. So when the flash of there’s no competition because I’d lose feeling flared, he stomped it back down again. He wasn’t going to let his own insecurities chase them around in a bloody circle. Aramis deserved better. If things changed, he’d cross that bridge when it came to it. This place was temporary anyway.
Linking their fingers together, he held Aramis’ hand over his heart and smiled gently. “Can’t imagine you ever being just a random Musketeer in anyone’s life. Certainly not mine.” He tugged, using his free hand to push aside the pastry box. His expression warmed, turned teasing. “I could use a little extra snuggling, if we’re being honest. Are you gonna get back into bed now or would you like to wait until I fall back asleep?”
Having just been waiting for an invitation, Aramis finally broke into a grin and scrambled back up to the top of the bed so he could slip under the covers before Porthos could take back the invitation. Having someone - anyone - annoyed or upset with him was a thing Aramis hated above most else. Being a charming people pleaser with everyone else was bad enough, but when it was Porthos? Unbearable.
He snuggled under the covers and leaned his head back against his now-cool pillow, giving the pastries a forlorn look. “Snuggle now, but you have to promise to eat the pastries later. I worked hard to get them. And I had to get extra for Athos.”
Porthos made room but as soon as Aramis was laid out flat, he curled back in close and looped a leg over Aramis’ hip. It took a little more wiggling, but eventually, he had his face pressed into Aramis’ throat and he let the feel of him work on the headache he’d been carrying since the night before.
“Right cause getting extra for Athos was a real hardship,” he laughed. “What does worked hard for em even mean? Did you get in a duel?” The sentence was punctuated by him tickling Aramis’ ribs.
Aramis sucked in a breath at the light touch on his ribs, he wasn’t overly ticklish, but when Porthos’ fingers grazed across a former bullet wound, where the scar tissue had puckered, he could admit to a strong exhale of sensitivity. His breath of a laugh was followed by Aramis grasping Porthos hand and holding it firm against him.
“I walked. A great deal. I was going to cook for you, but I wanted you to appreciate me, not throw up.” His hand crept up Porthos’ arm, as far as he’d allow himself. “Bribery is a way to a man’s heart, isn’t it?”
“It certainly doesn’t hurt,” Porthos grinned. He flattened his palm against Aramis’ stomach and rolled just far enough away to rest his head on the corner of the pillow they were sharing by proximity alone. “But you know you got into mine just being you.” It was said matter-of-factly but with an affectionate stare and a brush of his hand over Aramis’ heart. Then he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Aramis’ shoulder.
“If you really want to stay there, though,” he teased, giving a half-yawn, “you’ll let me use you for a pillow for another hour or two.”
“Mmm,” the murmur of contentment was pressed against Porthos head as soon as his lover leaned down to kiss on Aramis’ shoulder. He went from being worried to content in the blink of an eye, cuddled up like this. Closing his eyes, he settled with a smile on his face. “Deal. And if you wake up in a few hours and want to use me in a few other ways, just let me know.”