InsaneJournal

At home, they’d probably have had to commission a carpenter directly for each piece of furniture they wanted in the house. Which had its benefits of course, but would’ve taken ages. Porthos just had to adjust to the large and extensively decorated furniture store he now found himself in.

There was a giant shapeless ball on the floor nearby. And something covered in sheepskin a few yards away. He scowled and turned to lock eyes on Aramis again. The one obvious benefit to this endeavor was that he got to spend time with Aramis, doing something mildly domestic. It was also the one thing that made his stomach twist in knots but he was used to that. Especially after the incident with his thoughts.

God, he really didn’t want to worry about that again right now. Porthos squared his shoulders.

“There’s a sofa that looks like a cow behind you,” he smirked. “You think it’s actually made out of one?”

A new bed had been a belated birthday request from Aramis, especially now that they had the funds to do some shopping and a house to lovingly refurnish. Making a little nest for all of them had always been a joy of his back home, and here they were lucky enough to have even more options.

Including, apparently, a sofa that looked like a cow.

Aramis laughed at it, surprised and delighted as he dodged around an ornery looking pixie to get a better look. “Fake would be my guess. But you wouldn’t know by the name.” He flicked a little glance at the tag hanging off of it and made a poor attempt anyway. “Ko-arpt? Who thought of this language?”

Porthos crowded closer to get a look over Aramis’s shoulder but peeking at the tag didn’t help much. Neither did standing this close. He stepped back again, but not as far away as he’d been. “Hell if I know. Doesn’t look particularly comfortable anyway.”

Not that he’d ever really known excessive amounts of comfort. Growing up poor in the Court had made him grateful for every bit of luxury he ever got his hands on, but when they’d been on the run, it had meant a lot of returning to simpler comforts. Eventually, he’d realized he preferred it that way. Simple meant cozy. Simple meant one sofa and all of them squeezing in on it.

He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “There are some beds over that way. Do you want to test one yourself or find a clerk with some know how to tell us which is best for a layabout Frenchmen and his wiggler of a toddler?”

Aramis dropped the tag with a shrug and looked around at the whole big area, the path they were supposed to follow (since when did Musketeers follow signs?) and the mass amount of furniture laid out for them. It was a lot, not all of it comfortable looking, but spades above royal furniture.

“Let’s go that way, I probably wouldn’t understand them even if they were nice enough to tell us everything we need to know.” Aramis snagged a hand into the crease of Porthos’ arm and pulled him along. He tried not to dwell on touching Porthos, as it was something they all did so frequently, Aramis especially, but somehow it was feeling different now. More real.

“I’d say I need something large, for that wiggler of a toddler, but I somehow have a feeling the size I need isn’t the size that will fit in our house.” The vaguely sinister statement was ended with a little eyebrow wiggle and crooked side smile, reserved just for Porthos. Normally when one had an eye-opening experience they weren’t quite ready to confront, they backed down, but Aramis always had to be contrary and leaned into the devilish nature.

Porthos closed his eyes and huffed a laugh out through his nose. “I suppose I set you up for that one,” he sighed. He didn’t want to think about Aramis piling people into his bed. At least not other people. And imagining himself there was dangerous. Things thankfully hadn’t turned upside down after the mind-reading business but that didn’t mean they still couldn’t.

“Come on then.” Porthos hooked an arm around Aramis’s shoulders and tugged him towards the corner with all the massive beds. Some of them looked so plush, it bordered on comical. “These are about as ridiculous as you are, so they should do fine,” he teased affectionately. One had a headboard with thin vertical slats and Porthos gave a quick look over his shoulder before quietly commenting on it.

“Easy enough to tie you to that one,” he smirked.

Oh. Fuck. Aramis let his gaze linger on the headboard, only flicking a little look over at Porthos because that’s all he could manage without flushing. Aramis reminded himself they were in public, it was inappropriate to continue the line of jokes as they were, but if Porthos was going to stand there looking handsome and so unbearably pleased with himself over that observation—

Well, Aramis was in trouble.

But he couldn’t very well give himself away, now could he? With an appropriate amount of swagger (which to Aramis, was a lot), he moved towards the bed so he could place a hand on the mattress, pressing it down as if testing the softness. With practiced ease, Aramis rolled onto the bed and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket at the same time. “Care to test it, Porthos?”

Feeling instantly caught out - really it was his own fault, playing with fire - Porthos snorted and took the handkerchief. He squinted down at Aramis and let the fabric slip through the fingers of one hand while he pulled it through with the other. It was unbearably easy to picture what he’d do in this instance, if he could. If they were alone and it wasn’t a threat to everything he held dear. He smiled crookedly.

“You’re impossible, do you know that?” His gaze was on the handkerchief at the start of the sentence, but by the end, he was looking at Aramis from up under his eyelashes. “You’re lucky I like you too much to tie you up and leave you here for a storekeeper to find.” All that being said, he didn’t hand the handkerchief back. He nodded at the bed instead. “How’s it feel? Serious answer.”

Ah, good. He wasn’t called on his bluff so much as Porthos was still there looking over him and delicious, which wasn’t unusual. It did earn his friend a big grin, though, and Aramis stacked his hands up on his chest. The bed wasn’t as comfortable as he would have liked, no, a little firm on his back and not half as squishy as the Musketeer preferred. But he also didn’t like complaining.

Well, right now. When he was comfortable. At least this moment didn’t stop him from looking at Porthos so adoringly. Eventually, instead of asking Porthos to find out, he swung his legs over the side and sat up. “I like things hard, but not that hard.” He clapped a hand on Porthos’ shoulder and then moved onto the next bed, one that was far taller and more cushiony.

“Boring headboard, wonder if we can mix and match.” The we had just slipped out, but attempted to shrug it off as he rolled onto the far more comfortable bed. “Oooh--”

Porthos wasn’t much for blushing but he felt his face warm anyway. Only Aramis could do that looking so effortless. So unfairly inviting. Still, it was practically law that Porthos had to roll his eyes a little anyway.

“Scoot over, bed hog.” He didn’t really leave any time to move between the affectionate demand and sprawling out on the bed next to Aramis. The bed really was as comfortable as it looked. And not just because of who he was sharing it with. Rather than looking into this whole thing too much, he tracked his eyes up to the dull headboard instead. “I think they come separate. And if they don’t, you can always charm a salesperson to make an exception.” He scowled. “Or I can build you one myself.”

Aramis barely had a second to scoot over before Porthos was right there next to him. Warm and inviting. It was the kind of presence that always made him want to curl up next to the larger man, to swing an arm over him and cuddle in.

But he held off, as that wouldn’t be appropriate for such a public place. “I think I rather like the idea of you building one for me. It could be multi-purpose.” Aramis rolled to his side to face Porthos and propped his head up on his hand. “A place to hide a sword, maybe? Or a book or two.” The siren libertine wagged his eyebrows as he continued, “Other accompaniments…”

Porthos slid a squinty-eyed glance over at Aramis. He felt him move but it was still somehow a shock to find all that attention directly aimed at him. He quickly looked away. The mental image of a nice bedframe with a built in bookcase and a number of hidey holes was enough to keep the heat from reappearing in his cheeks at least.

“What about…display the sword, hide the pistol? And the other accompaniments.” He smirked and lifted his head to look around. No one seemed bothered by them laying here like this, which didn’t put him in any kind of hurry to change it. “Might not be as shiny as some of the things here, though. Are you going to be disappointed in the end?

“Ooooh, I like it,” And he did. Tristan was already being brought up around swords, with sword safety, and the toddler had been good about not touching without permission. Over a bed could’ve been iffy for some people, but not as much the Musketeers. And it was a gorgeous weapon, it would’ve been a shame to hide it away. It may have been a little too obvious just how obnoxiously pleased he was at the things Porthos did, but Aramis didn’t bother to hide it.

“I never could be,” He answered solemnly, keeping a gaze on the larger man. It would’ve been too easy to get serious in this moment, laying on a comfortable bed only inches away. Right now wasn’t the time for either of them, so Aramis took pity and changed the subject with a quick grin and a pat on the mattress. “What do you think? Is it a keeper? ”

“Maybe we can make it so you have to have a long reach to release the sword with a hidden button or something. Just to be extra safe, eh?” Porthos knew all too well that Tristan was a Musketeer’ son and would therefore grow up with the best and safest weapon’s training, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious for the people he loved. He enjoyed a puzzle anyway.

Aramis’s question pulled him back from mulling over furniture plans in his head and he smiled loose and easy. “It’s certainly comfortable. Plush.” His hand dropped down to press on the mattress, too close to Aramis’s leg but not close enough either. “Quite the step up from everything at home. Is it big enough for you, or do you want to see if they have something special order?” he teased.

Aramis hummed, pleased with how this had turned into a puzzle and something to do with Porthos hands all at once. Creativity in the bedroom, it was on the tip of his tongue, but he was almost certain that he’d pushed his luck to the brink already. “I like it. I think we’ll do that. Put in a good place for tying me up and it’ll be perfect.”

Watching his friends smile was a favorite of his, and Aramis was forced to take a break from it, just this once. His heart had already started beating a little too fast, this was too close and he was thinking too much as it was. His own hand dropped down just close enough to brush against Porthos, and he didn’t jerk away immediately. Aramis did, however, let his head fall back onto the plush mattress. “Perhaps we should’ve brought Athos along, help us figure out just how many Musketeers can fit on a bed comfortably.” he paused, and then a quiet sigh escaped his lips. “This is nice, though. If you fit, that’s really all that’s--”

Needed. Whoops. A little too much truth from his lips, stumbling out without Aramis being able to stop it.

Porthos knew someone would come along to harass them soon enough but it was impossible to care when Aramis had gone from talking about tying him up to implying Porthos was a good fit - the good fit - for this bed. He was left staring at Aramis’s profile a little too keenly.

It was brutally unfair how handsome he was, even under these unforgiving lights.

“Aramis…” Porthos felt a nervous smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “What do you mean, if I fit, that’s--”

“Hi there!” A saleswoman with lavender skin and tiny little horns practically appeared next to the bed and it made Porthos tense in surprise. “You two look like you found yourself the perfect bed,” she said cheerfully. “Can I answer any questions for you?”

Porthos swallowed and sat up. “Uhh...he’s the one you should talk to…” He gestured towards Aramis with his chin.

How quickly the moment was broken, even if Aramis himself had known he should have pulled away first. But Porthos had been looking too delicious and it was probably a very good thing that they were interrupted, before he did something monumentally stupid.

He was quick to recover, and rolled himself off the bed with a charming grin and little head bow. There was a quick glance back at Porthos, just because he couldn’t help it, before charging forward to talk about beds with this newcomer. “I do have a few questions, but I think I also need to try out a few more before making any decisions--”

Aramis let himself get lost in the new conversation, just so he didn’t look back and dwell on an almost moment with Porthos, even if the thoughts would plague him later.