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[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."

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[afineseamstress]

Aramis squeezes his eyes closed and offers Porthos a tight nod, for a moment afraid that if his trapped cock so much as brushes the sheets, it will all be over. "I believe you'll find everything in order," he ekes out, turning himself to lie gingerly on his stomach. Even this feels good, and Aramis buries his face in the sheets, groaning for just the thought of Porthos fingers pressing into him.

[du_vallon]

Porthos grins as he slides his palm up from Aramis' ankle all the way up to the back of his knee, rubbing in circles, before ascending higher. He gives Aramis' beautiful arse one good smack with his palm before he nudges the lace aside with two of his fingers together, shoving it up (but not off) as he works to push inside.

Aramis definitely prepared himself and it's a surprise that has Porthos' breath caught in his throat. "Oh, you beautiful man," Porthos exhales fondly. "Look how wet and tight you are for me," he growls, sliding his fingers out to give himself a few good strokes. Normally, it'd take him longer to be hard again, but the sheer sight of Aramis in those stockings and corset and the things he wants to do are overwhelming.

He's not there yet, but it won't be long. "Tell me what you want," he coaxes, knowing that will help.

[afineseamstress]

"I want you to take me," Aramis groans into the sheets. "Use me like someone whose services you have paid for. Do not ask me if I like what you are doing to me, or what I want. Take your pleasure exactly as you desire it."

Aramis' fingers twist in the sheets, resisting with all his will the urge to push his silk covered arse back against Porthos. "That is what I want."

[du_vallon]

What Aramis is suggesting is so tempting that he lets out a desperate hitch of breath and finds himself hard at the thought of it, skin prickling with anticipation. He reaches forward and uses one hand to pin down Aramis' shoulder hard enough that he won't be able to move or buck backwards, the other hand responsible for shoving the underwear aside as he slides in with no warning, thinking back to some of the ladies of the night in Paris.

They hadn't been as gorgeous as Aramis, though, this he knows. His hips rock forward as he buries himself deep in Aramis, the lace sliding against the shaft of his cock, and he lets out a guttural moan of pleasure, staying exactly where he is. The other hand lets go of the panties and they nudge against him, a constant reminder. He moves the hand at his shoulder to thread in his hair, tugging him up for a hard kiss while he adjusts his grip to Aramis' hip to pin him hard there.

"You're gonna tell me you like it," he growls his instructions. "Describe it to me."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis gives a shuddering groan for the hand on his shoulder, well able to guess what is coming next, but even so he cries out as Porthos fills him, pushing deep without hesitation. He is well used to telling people what they want to hear, but in this, Aramis does not have to lie.

"You are so big, Porthos," he pants, spreading his legs as wide as he can beneath Porthos' weight. "I have never taken a cock like yours, never felt so stretched or so full." Porthos is holding him tight enough that he does not have to twist his head to feel the sting, every fingertip against his side an individual, bruising ache. "You feel so good I could weep."

[du_vallon]

Porthos' kiss is bruising and hard when he can get one, though it's only at the corner of Aramis' lips before he returns his devotion to long, full thrusts into that slick, waiting, tight heat. It's everything he's been promised and more. "I'll kiss them from your cheeks if you do," Porthos pants. Sweat beads on his skin, though it only serves to make him glisten, and he continues. Hips snapping, a wild and desperate pace without rhythm, he means to find that spot Aramis likes so very much.

"Yes, Aramis," he moans loudly, not caring for the neighbours or what they hear. "God, yes, you feel so good. Breathe, deep, and I want that corset to hurt," he growls. "I want you to have to beg for each breath and when you don't know if you can take in enough air, then I'll make you come so hard you nearly pass out."

[afineseamstress]

"It is so tight," Aramis gasps, and he does not have to pretend it is hard to speak with Porthos pounding into him, his weight and those powerful thrusts forcing the breath from Aramis faster than he can drag it in. He shifts in search of a deeper lungful and feels Porthos drag against that hot, bright place inside of him and begins to keen.

"Porthos," he cries, dizzy and yearning with every part of him for release, for air, for Porthos to fuck him until he finally without sense. "It is too much, too good. I cannot bear it."

[du_vallon]

That's only Porthos' cue to go faster, harder. He manages to fuck Aramis deeper and further than he thinks he's ever before, clasping tight to his hips with both hands now as he works his way hard and fast, his fingernails sliding underneath the panties to drag up against his hips, clawing down and making red marks as he fucks Aramis, in a brutal and fast way that resembles little of the love-making they usually have.

"Deep breath," he coaxes. "Deep, deep, deep, and hold it," he instructs. "And I'm gonna fuck you in that spot, make you come so hard, kitten."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis whimpers for the merciless pace, actually sobbing when he feels Porthos' nails rend his flesh. "I can't," he gasps and means it, but on the third try Aramis manages to suck down a decent lungful and hold it, dark spots dancing immediately on the edge of his vision for the pressure in his lungs. The spots merge into a steadily creeping blackness, stealing his sight entirely when Porthos' cock stabs ruthlessly against that spot.

Aramis almost does not realize when he begins to come, conscious only of a pleasure that suffuses his entire body. It is like nothing he has felt, not even with Porthos, the entirety of his being light, made of light, as close to divinity as he has ever come outside the pew of a church.

Aramis' smile is soft and almost giddy, and then he goes entirely limp, lungs filling at last without his conscious wish to stop them.

[du_vallon]

Porthos pushes hard, buried deep in that tightness, and he bows his forehead to press up against the skin just above the corset's ties and knots. He breathes out there, beard rubbing against the smooth skin there as he feels Aramis coming. When Aramis goes limp and heavy beneath him, Porthos reaches above him for the main gauche, though he doesn't take himself from out of Aramis, hoping to soothe him through this.

Slowly, he begins to sneak the blade in, angling it up. Each silky little ribbon gives a satisfying snip as they're cut loose and Porthos takes the bowtie at the top out with his teeth, pulling it out as he pushes the corset aside to give Aramis a chance to breathe. "Shh, shh, shh, chou," Porthos murmurs, sliding the dull cool blade down Aramis' spine and over the red of where Porthos' hand has smacked before it's set aside. "Are you with me?"

[afineseamstress]

Aramis comes to slowly, the sensations in his body an intriguing mixture of bliss and discomfort bordering on pain. Porthos' gentle rumble is in his ear, and Aramis manages a dizzy smile, realizing as awareness blooms that Porthos is still wrapped around him, inside of him, that the slide of material is the corset being pulled away.

"You cut it," he rasps, opening his eyes. His body is sore in the respite, but Aramis hates to think that he has missed Porthos' own pleasure. "Have you come, cariño?"

[du_vallon]

"Not yet, no," Porthos' voice is thick and hoarse with desire and want and love, rubbing his hand over Aramis' tender back, the strings having made marks as he'd imagined they would. His thumb traces the pattern of them as he gives another lazy thrust, thinking that he'd very much like to come on those panties, but he wants to make sure Aramis is okay to lose the sensation. "I'm going to pull out of you now. Is that okay?"

[afineseamstress]

Aramis groans with indecision. He cannot take anymore, he knows, but it is so hard to give up the fullness of Porthos inside of him. "All right," he concedes, "But slowly, and - "

Aramis lifts his head, discontent with his view of the bedsheets, but he cannot turn over until Porthos slides out of him. "Let me watch you?"

[du_vallon]

Porthos does exactly as instructed, taking Aramis by the hips to turn him over so that he's facing upwards. "This won't be pretty," he warns, taking himself in hand using the left so that Aramis' ring on his finger drags along his cock as he leans back on his haunches and brings himself close to the edge, moaning Aramis' name on his lips. When he's close, so very close, he shifts and angles it so that he spills all over those beautiful blue lace panties, those suspenders, and the tips of those silk stockings. It's going to be a hell of a mess to clean up, but it's going to be wonderful.

Trembling from spending, Porthos hooks his fingers on the corset and tugs it aside, pushing it off the bed before he curls up next to Aramis in the bed, loosely grasping him so as not to hurt him. "I love you," he drowsily says.

[afineseamstress]

As much as he has enjoyed them, Aramis is almost jealous of the panties and the silks, greedily catching most of Porthos' release. He catches only a few drops on his skin, and Aramis reaches down to rub them in, rubbing even more after when the motion soothes the sore marks on his ribs and chest. He turns his head when Porthos arrives next to him, stretching his neck to kiss his cheek. "I love you," he answers, "And that was pretty, indeed. Porthos."

Aramis shakes his head, a tired and incredulous smile on his lips. "That was...every part of that was...it was incredible."

[du_vallon]

Porthos grins like an idiot and a madman combined, thinking that he still isn't sure how pretty a thing that had been, between the two of them, but he's willing to take Aramis at his word. He strokes his fingers through Aramis' hair tenderly and soft. "You were incredible," he praises. "I've never been that aroused," he confesses with a soft laugh. "The sight of you in that corset and these things," he remarks, unclasping the suspenders one by one to slowly slide them off.

"Are you okay? You sort of went out like a light for a moment, there."

[afineseamstress]

"I cannot describe it," Aramis admits, eyes wide. "For a moment it felt like I was dying, not in a frightening way but blissful and safe, held close and warm to God's breast." He laughs aloud. "Forgive me the blasphemy and the stroke to your ego. It was...powerful, Porthos. Thank you for giving me that. You drove me out of my mind today, from the very moment I pulled these lacy underthings onto my skin."

He lifts Porthos' hand to kiss it. "Everything was heightened."

[du_vallon]

Porthos' grin won't move for a while. He's so happy that he feels like it's bleeding from him, radiating into the air around them. He'd known it would be enjoyable for himself, but he's grateful that Aramis had enjoyed himself too. And, speaking of those lacy underthings...

He shifts lower to clasp onto the stockings, peeling them slowly off one by one. He tosses them to the side and tugs at the sides of the underthings with his hands, pulling lower and lower until they're at Aramis' toes and Porthos can kiss his way slowly back up, paying special attention to any red marks he's caused, along the way. "Should've saved it for the honeymoon. I don't know how I'm going to top that."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis squirms for the removal of his panties, beyond soiled and just beginning to stick to him, but Porthos' mouth is remarkably calming, warm against the pinched and stinging marks on Aramis' skin.

"It is for the best that you did not," he answers. "I am quite destroyed, and I want to have sex on every hour of our honeymoon. Had you saved these it would have been over as soon as it begun."

[du_vallon]

Porthos plays with the marks he's made on Aramis, fitting his fingertips into the grooves softly as he presses slow kisses to Aramis' neck, making a curious sound in his throat when something occurs to him. "What are we doing for our honeymoon?" he wonders. He'd never really planned to get married, so he really doesn't have any notions about what a honeymoon should look like. "Here? Maybe Athos can man the investigation business for a few days while we enjoy ourselves?"

[afineseamstress]

"That is no different than our normal days," laughs Aramis, turning his head happily for Porthos' mouth. "The modern custom is to take a trip, but we cannot go far. Perhaps a small place in the country where we will be truly alone, or one of those places near the pier. Or," he says, smile broadening, "That fine hotel we visited after I proposed."

[du_vallon]

Porthos glances up at Aramis, interest immediately showing when he mentions the country. "I like the notion of the country," he says, shifting so that he can rest his cheek against Aramis' chest to listen to his heart beating wildly away. It's only mid-afternoon, but Porthos needs to put on dinner at some point despite how much he wants to curl up and do nothing but sleep. "Some small inn or house. We could find horses and ride, practice with shooting and swords, enjoy the peace and quiet," he muses.

"It's a shame. I'd have liked to see all those places we travelled too, but without working. Rome, Vienna, London...they would've been amazing to see, in this modern time, I think."

[afineseamstress]

"They would," Aramis agrees, but he cannot stop the longing in his voice when he murmurs, "Horses. You are a fine mount, but I have missed riding a horse, Porthos."

Aramis settles back against the sheets. "A small country inn, with meals made for us like they would have been at home, horses and broad swathes of land, forest trees to kiss against." His smile turns sly. "Perhaps more. How have we not yet made love where the stars could see?"

[du_vallon]

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.

[afineseamstress]

"And it will be cold outside that time of year," Aramis laments with a yawn, shivering for the path of the cloth against his sensitive skin, though the marks are slowly fading. Aramis finds that he will miss them, wishing he had the energy to stand and see them all in a mirror before they are gone.

"Porthos," he says, quirking a grin. "Take a picture?"