(no subject)

[afineseamstress]

The box is there when he wakes, settled at the edge of the bed and almost hidden by Aramis' kicked up sheets. He stares down at it for a long moment, listening to Porthos move about in the kitchen, and when he is awake enough, Aramis drags the box to him to open.

Looking down at its surprising contents, Aramis smiles.

"Washing up!" he calls, exiting the bed with box in hand straight to the bathroom, where he wastes no time, fingers busy with more than the work of slipping the silk up and over his legs. If he is surprised, Aramis is equal parts impressed, stunned, and more warm than he's ever been in his life.

When at last he is set to rights, Aramis gives the corset a last tug and opens the bathroom door, walking the short distance to linger in the bedroom doorway. He gazes at Porthos' back as he rummages in the pantry and smiles, leaning his hip against the frame. "I believe I'll need some help with the string."

Comments

[du_vallon]

Porthos had been putting away the dishes while Aramis napped. Dinner is still a shade too early to start and the gift for Aramis is sitting on his bed waiting for him to discover. Porthos had bought it several days back, a treat for himself now that he's able to walk without cast, crutches, or even cane. He still limps slightly and wears a compression sock, but it's as though he is not injured in any way. Turning, Porthos' grip on the bowl in his hand weakens at the sight that greets him and shatters all over their floor.

Mouth dry, no words in his throat, Porthos thinks that he hadn't expected such a vision so soon. He feels a bit of lightheadedness hit him at the sight of Aramis in the perfectly fitting wares (Porthos had been careful to bring exact measurements with him) and he grips at the counter for the vision before him. "Stringing up?" he manages, finally. "I thought I wasn't allowed to touch you when you wore this until hours had passed." There's interest in his eyes and hope, beyond that, that Aramis will take back those words.