D'Artagnan has the Devil's Luck (devilsluck) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-10-09 14:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, aramis, d'artagnan |
Who:D'Artagnan and Aramis
What:Checking in on the injured
When:Not long after he was shot.
Where:His home.
Warnings/rating:None, low
Status:Complete
D’Artagnan hated that he had to wait to visit, but all the same it was Porhos’ request, so he respected it. The second however he was called and told they could come, he grabbed Athos and off they went to visit. But not before D’Artagnan made a side stop at the hotels kitchen. It was there he’d made friends with a chef, and he’d told said chef about his friend being injured. He paid for some specially made off the menu bourbon brownies and brought them along to the visit. He knew Aramis would appreciate the sugar rush. At least, normally he would. He wasn’t terribly positive that Aramis would be up to eating. All the same they’d get to stay with him in the fridge until he was able. Quietly he knocked at the door, not sure if he was awake or not.
Fortunately, the stay at the hospital had been short and sweet. Aramis had recovered well from the initial shock and blood loss, though in a week’s time or so he’d have to go back to see if he needed any follow up surgery. Honestly, a part of him thought he’d rather stay in the hospital, the way Porthos was fretting over his every movement.
Therefore, he was very happy to hear someone come over, and he awkwardly shifted himself to be sitting up in bed. At the knock on the door he covered a yawn. “Come in,” he said. “S’open.”
Rarely had he seen Aramis so out of sorts since he met the man, it gained him a sympathetic and concerned expression all wrapped into one. “Hope you aren’t too tired for chocolate?” He was glad the stay at the hospital had been short, poor Porthos was looking exhausted, though he’d never say. D’Artagnan couldn’t blame him one bit for hovering Aramis, if it had been Athos oh the hovering he would have gotten.
“How are you feeling?” Of course when one of them was down, the others would come running. If Aramis expected any different than he was ridiculous. Athos was about somewhere, likely looking after Porthos or doing some other chore around their place for them who really knew. All he knew was he wanted to see Aramis the minute he was able and didn’t let a minute pass when he was told he was allowed.
Aramis gave D’Artagnan a tired smile. “No such thing as too tired for chocolate.” He waved the younger man over, then gave a one shoulder shrug. “I’m fine. Tired. Sore.” Aramis nearly snorted a bit. Of course he was sore. Under his t-shirt sleeve was the evidence of the bandages still on his shoulder, but Aramis seemed to be taking it in stride.
“I kept the musket ball. S’there on the dresser top. Neat, huh?”
D’Artagnan grinned at that. It was part of the reason he connected so well with Aramis. He was a man after his own heart when it came to sweets. “Chocolate macaroons.” He knew Aramis favored them, so he placed the box near him on the bedside, and then peered at the musket ball. “Weird. But also kinda, yeah.” Honestly if it had been him, he probably would have kept it too. He couldn’t blame the man for doing so.
“Athos’ll probably be in soon too. He and Porthos are probably having a mother hen competition or something.” He grinned.
“You’re too good to me.” Immediately Aramis opened the box, popping a macaron into his mouth. As he chewed it, he rolled his eyes fondly. “Porthos is such a moosh. More concerned about it than I am, really. It’s nice, though, isn’t it? Having someone to worry about you.” And not just abandon you when the going got rough.
“They’ll give one another tips, you know. We’ll both be doomed.”
“It’s from the place you showed me. Mentioned you were all laid up, lady owner didn’t let me leave until I sampled several new types and put half the case in the box along the way. It’s a win win really.“ He nodded some. “Honestly I don’t know what I’d do without Athos. “ A certain warmth to his expression whenever he mentioned the man’s name or spoke of him.
“Neither of us will ever be able to leave the house again at this rate..”
Aramis put his good arm across his chest, resting his hand on his heart with a fond look. “Bless her. I’ll have to send Porthos to give her my thanks.”
He settled back against the headboard, regarding d’Artagnan through a haze of painkillers and exhaustion. It was evident in his face that he was feeling run down and not himself, but it didn’t seem to hamper him too much from being, well, him.
“He’s stupid for you, you know. Athos is. Told me so himself. S’good. I’m glad he’s got someone that makes him happy. You’re good for him. He’s good for you. Don’t abuse that.”
He worried about him when it came to over doing things, so he knew he’d likely have to keep this visit short, as much as he wanted to hang around with him. He looked up to Aramis and Porthos both, literally and otherwise. He tied up the string on the small box when Aramis was done with it and set it on his bedside. Of course he’d be leaving it with him, but he didn’t want him to wake to old stale pastries. He’d likely give them off to Porthos when he fell asleep.
At those words he smiled. He always did when talking about the man. “Told you all that did he? I won’t..I mean..it’s terrifying sometimes, but I love him. I’ve never loved anyone like this.” Sometimes he wondered if the age gap was weird, but it didn’t seem to bother Athos and he wouldn’t let it bother him. Age was just a number. Athos was amazing to him. “We’re looking at new houses finally. I’d probably be content to spend the rest my life with him. “ There was a but attached there, he was concerned maybe Athos thought he was too young at times. He didn’t want the man to worry about things like that. Or anything really.
Aramis hummed a bit, much too foggy in the head to think overmuch about his own love situation. His feelings on love, he felt, were a lot like his feelings on religion, and that was very complicated. But he enjoyed seeing other people enjoying it.
“It’s a very scary thing, isn’t it. When it first happens. I suspect he’s just as nervous about the whole ordeal, really. I hope you have a house warming party. I love parties.”
D’Artagnan on the opposite side of things was very simple when it came to emotion. He was your basic open book, heart on sleeve sort. He could be as subtle as a brick. “I’m putting everything out there. I think we both are and it’s intense. I think it’s worth it though with him.”
The brunette really didn’t understand Aramis. He and Porthos were clearly close, but what they actually were was still a mystery to him. “I think Athos wants to. Of course you’ll be invited.” He gave him a warm smile.
“I should hope so. I’ll bring some good wine.” Aramis could feel his eyes drooping. He wanted to be able to visit and talk, but there was no fighting when his painkillers kicked in. Absently, he waved a hand. “You should probably go chat with Porthos some. He’s better company than I am.”
“Conscious company usually is.” He teased him gently but nodded to the comment of the wine and made to leave him to heal. “Get some rest my friend.” And with that left him to his sleep, wandering off to find Porthos instead.