René d'Herblay, alias Aramis

"I have to turn on the oven," Porthos reminds him, though he doesn't go far. In fact, if anything, he leans a little closer, bowing his head to start pressing slow little kisses to the lines that the string had made. "I was going to make up spare-ribs soaked in sauce, along with some coleslaw, and bread." Another kiss, and he rubs his nose back and forth before he looks up. "Will you let me go for two minutes?" he asks his permission dutifully.