"Our vision board is quickly becoming a private matter," Porthos murmurs, the words pressed up against Aramis' skin as he gives him a bemused raise of his brow. "Are you an easy sell, hm? You're making it so that I might not need to put in any effort. No more nice clothes, all sweats. No more nice dinners, only the easy stuff," he teases, setting aside the cloth to hoist Aramis into his arms swiftly.