Porthos' eyes flash with panic, willing himself to settle his blood so that he can walk into the bedroom, walk closer to Aramis where he wants to touch and is close enough to. He walks stiffly, his own arousal clear given that he's only wearing sweatpants. Even his muscles seem to quiver with the stress of it, straining against his tank top as he plucks out the leathers and hands them to Aramis, dangling off two fingers from where he's standing five feet away from him.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he wonders, raw and hoarse and desperate as he asks for reason. "You said you'd go out, you said I could watch. Not this."
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Date: 2014-11-23 04:35 am (UTC)"Why are you doing this to me?" he wonders, raw and hoarse and desperate as he asks for reason. "You said you'd go out, you said I could watch. Not this."