Porthos laughs warmly when he's compared to a horse, pinching Aramis' hip playfully. "I am a fine mount," he agrees. "And you riding me is a picture," he promises, his thoughts turning somewhat dreamy as he thinks of what Aramis is describing. "Maybe because we're in a city at the moment and making love under the stars could get us arrested?" he points out. "Making Athos bail us out for that would be a strain on our friendship."

He groans as he stretches, wandering to the washroom to fetch a bowl of warm water and the washcloth, returning to slowly begin to clean Aramis up from the stray places he needs it.