Porthos groans. "Oh, she'll be a terror," he says, thinking of all the horror that a young Aramis might get up to. "Almost makes me want a son of yours, too, thinking of you at that age," he says with a low rumbling laugh, Aramis' body vibrating slightly for Porthos' joy. "Thin little charming thing stealing the kisses of the girls in town. I'm glad to give them heartbreak, taking you, though," he says, running his hand over his hair as he sprawls.

"Now I catch you from rooftops, bake you sweets, and kiss you wherever you like," he says. "No charm required."