Porthos loved Halloween already. Between all the treats and the spooky decorations, he’d been having a good time for weeks. But the costume had been the real treat. Well that and Athos showing up just in time to get dragged to a party. He’d known he’d missed his friend, but he hadn’t realized exactly how much until his name popped up on the arrival registry. Porthos had sprinted to intake and crushed the poor bloke in a hug that day.
Today, though, he hadn’t manhandled him yet. He was saving it for when he pulled Athos out the door closer to party time. First, he was trying to smooth the way.
“You just fill this...” Porthos held up the plug in tea kettle and moved to the sink, priest robes swishing around his legs. “...With water. Then you plug it in here.” He went through the motions and then held out a selection of teas he’d brought over. “While that gets to bubbling, I recommend the chamomile. It reduces irritability. Read that on the box!”
For Athos' part, he was trying to pay attention, but the visual of Porthos moving about in a priest's robes was just too odd for him to really do more than just smirk and shake his head. "I know how to make tea, Porthos," he responded, though the idea of a kettle that heated itself up versus having to wait for a fire to do all the work was something new. Not to mention a selection of teas. What was Porthos doing with a selection of teas?
"Are you suggesting I'm irritable, Father?" he asked, taking the selection from Porthos and thumbing through them. He hadn't even known this many different types of teas existed. That aside, he was indeed very happy to see his friends and this place was quite wonderful. It wasn't home, but in so many ways it was better.
“I know you do, Athos. I’m only showing you how the kettle works so you don’t try to just stare it into boiling,” Porthos smirked. Leaning against the counter, he toyed with the cross that hung around his neck and glanced out of the side of his eye. No doubt, Athos had looked worse. He hoped that meant this place was good for him so far and not that he’d just gotten better at hiding his moodiness.
“And I’m only suggesting I’d like to keep you in a good mood.” Porthos elbowed Athos lightly in the ribs. “You know that party is tonight, right?”
"Yes, and I wish you both a wonderful time," responded Athos, accepting the elbow with a friendly feigned hand-to-the-injury. "I've got a number of books to read and now a number of teas to try, so you needn't worry about my entertainment." Truth be told, Athos was never really comfortable at parties - and that was including ones where he actually knew a great deal of the people. He picked up one of the packets and eyeballed it for a second. Spiced Chai sounded interesting.
"When are you leaving?" he asked, setting it back down.
Porthos rolled his eyes affectionately and hooked an arm around Athos’ neck. “Don’t be deliberately obtuse, mate. There’ll be plenty of time for reading in between training sessions.” He patted him on the shoulder and then moved to get the now whistling kettle. “We’d very much like you to join us. Don’t worry, I’m not expecting a costume or dancing or any of that. Just come meet a few people we’ve made friends with and try to have a good time.”
"I've never been a social creature," responded Athos, reaching to collect the two mugs they'd set out. He placed them on the counter in front of Porthos and moved out of the way, leaning against one of the cabinets. "I'm not sure I know how to mingle." He smirked and looked down at his hands for a moment. "Couldn't start with something small? Maybe drinks and conversation?"
He knew very well that there was no way he was going to get out of it and that he'd be there right along with his two closest friends. But it wouldn't be Athos if he didn't hem and haw about it first.
“You? Not social? Say it isn’t so,” Porthos teased. His smirking face was fond, a look mostly reserved for the three people closest to him. But it came with a softer touch where Athos specifically was concerned. “I’m not going to throw you to the wolves, Athos. You can have your small drinks and conversation, you’ll just have to move around a room to get them.”
The cross around his neck tapped against the counter as Porthos filled their mugs with tea bags and hot water. “If things get too mad and you aren’t having a good time, I swear, I’ll fight them off and shepherd your escape myself.”
"A priest escorting a Musketeer out of a busy crowd seems quite the role reversal," he noted, watching Porthos prepare the tea. He appreciated that his friends would look out for him and accepted his nature without trying to make him change it. Still, he was a bit alarmed that he'd only just shown up and was already going to what appeared to be an incredibly large party while also still trying to come to grips with the whole thing that was being here.
"No costume and no dancing?" he asked, making sure he had confirmation.
“No costume. No dancing,” Porthos confirmed. “Unless of course, you meet someone engaging and want to dance.” It wasn’t necessarily likely of course, but Athos had surprised him by hitting off with Isabela so easily. Well, hitting it off in an Athos sort of way. He had an understated and snarky charm that never failed to put a smile on Porthos’ face. Porthos scooted the sugar containers over by their mugs and gave Athos a sideways smirk of a look.
“You can even wear your full leathers if it’ll make you feel more comfortable,” he shrugged. “You look good in them anyhow.”
"Around a throng of people, it'd get too hot," commented Athos. "I'm sure half-leathers will be fine." He reached over to pick up the sugar containers and thumbed through those as well. "I wouldn't get your hopes up, unless we come across a group of people as committed to getting me out and about as the two of you." He chuckled to himself at the sudden mental image of people pulling him in different directions as he picked up different packets of sugar.
"Why are the sugars different colors?"
Porthos laughed and clamped a hand on Athos’ shoulder. “For you, I’m willing to get my hopes up just a little. You never know how this place might surprise you.” It had certainly surprised Porthos, giving him and Aramis a chance at something more than they could’ve comfortably had at home. He shook his head, though, rather than bring that up, and then nodded at the sugars.
“They’re different. Some aren’t even real sugar.” Picked up two packets and tapped them against the counter with a crooked smile. “You’re going to be bloody amazed how hard people work here not to put on weight.”
Athos played it safe and selected two packets of the same thing Porthos did and hoped it was the real sugar. "I've noticed a trend of people running for pleasure and at least one place to sit around lifting balanced weight," he commented, tapping his own packets before tearing them open to pour into his mug. "I suppose when knowing your next meal is guaranteed, it's easier to get larger than you'd expect." He'd seen many an overweight noble brushing off the cares of too many starving people in the streets of Paris. If there was one thing he missed about his time as Comte, it was at least that his family kept everyone fed.
He wasn't too surprised to know that not all of it was real sugar, but that made him wonder what the others were. With the amount of strange magic that seemed to occur in Atlantis, he would be well within his rights to worry that any one of those could turn him into a rabbit or worse. He was certain Porthos wouldn't do that to him, though. At least, not knowingly. "You're correct, though. This place is certainly full of surprises."
Porthos could practically see the wheels turning in Athos’ head and all he could do was grin at him and make his own tea ready to sip. “Yeah, war or not, no one here is starving. Which, well, that’s nice for a change, isn’t it?” He lifted his mug in a salute and took a drink. Having personal experience with starvation made the subject matter sting, but he shook it off.
“Shit, I better go make sure Aramis isn’t tangled up in that costume of his. I’ll be back for you though.” He pointed his mug at Athos for emphasis. His grin softened, from sharkish to kind, as he set the mug down and moved around Athos with a gentle arm squeeze in passing. “We’ll have a good time and consider it a proper celebration of your arrival.”
Athos had returned the salute before taking his own sip of the tea, which had a more smooth taste than he'd expected. Tea had certainly improved in the future. He'd nodded in response to the general populace being better off, and honestly he truly liked that everyone had a place and a role and no one skulked in alleys, living off scraps and having no honest work available to them. It was quite a bit like a paradise, if you discounted the occasional magical mishap. Everything must have a downside, he'd considered.
He smiled over at his friend as he passed by and grasped his arm in shared warmth. "I'll see you in a bit. Please make sure he's at least wearing a shirt."
Porthos gave a hearty laugh and called back over his shoulder as he went through the door. “No promises!”
With a following grin, Athos stayed leaning against the counter as Porthos left, sipping his tea and looking forward to what this new future would bring.