Had he landed in this city all alone, Athos would have easily slipped into a dangerous routine of brandy, and bed, and food only when he remembered it. Thank God for Aramis and Porthos, then, who insist he come to dinner, and drag him on tours of the city, and had handed him a key with the insistence that he should see their home as his own - and an implied threat that there would be costs if he did not check in now and again. Over these first few days, Athos has accepted their attentions with his usual long-suffering eye rolls, secretly glad in his heart that they have not entirely forgotten him.
As the afternoon turns towards evening, he leaves his apartment for their rooms, as he had promised. Nevermind that they are no longer in Paris, or that Athos has consumed little besides wine, he still looks every bit the musketeer as he knocks on their door. When no response comes, he tries that little key.
The scene that greets him is innocent in its own way, the two men clothed, and gently curled together, and blissfully happy - and perhaps it is that easy, simple intimacy that startles Athos the most. Like the lock he just opened, the tumblers in his mind line together, this scene meeting with a thousand other little moments - not only here, but reaching back for years. What a fool he has been. What great fools they are.
He thinks he hears Aramis stir, and before Athos can turn away, their eyes have met. Athos doesn’t linger, stalking out of the apartment.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2014-10-14 10:55 pm (UTC)As the afternoon turns towards evening, he leaves his apartment for their rooms, as he had promised. Nevermind that they are no longer in Paris, or that Athos has consumed little besides wine, he still looks every bit the musketeer as he knocks on their door. When no response comes, he tries that little key.
The scene that greets him is innocent in its own way, the two men clothed, and gently curled together, and blissfully happy - and perhaps it is that easy, simple intimacy that startles Athos the most. Like the lock he just opened, the tumblers in his mind line together, this scene meeting with a thousand other little moments - not only here, but reaching back for years. What a fool he has been. What great fools they are.
He thinks he hears Aramis stir, and before Athos can turn away, their eyes have met. Athos doesn’t linger, stalking out of the apartment.
The door doesn’t exactly close gently behind him.