afineseamstress | (no subject)

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porthos

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Aramis is no longer in the mood to celebrate Halloween. After the trials of the strange, gray nightmare world he and those he loves dearest had found themselves in, after watching the people he loves hurt again and again, it's not for the purpose of celebration that Aramis outfits himself into costume.

The motorcycle is newly purchased, the license newer still, and Aramis swings a leg over it, leathers creaking as he settles. He rides quickly across town to where Porthos will be waiting for him, and as the wind whips through his hair, he lets Aramis fall away.

He doesn't have to be that man for a few hours. He doesn't have to wonder if the city that has given him so much will try to hurt him again, hurt Athos or Porthos, or their future family. He doesn't have to pretend that he's been sleeping when he has not, or that everything is alright when it certainly isn't. Just for an evening, he doesn't have to be himself, worrying incessantly about the things he can't control.

Pulling up in front of the shelter, he lets the motorcycle engine roar once before he sets the engine to idle. He breathes deep, exhaling with an almost bored sound as he waits for his charge.

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"I'd feel much safer if you were closer," Isaac works out the words, muffled by his pillow, though his eyes are firmly on Rene's hand and where it drifts. "If you'd like, I've laid out a nice set of sleeping clothes on the bed," he says, and there are pointedly no clothes at all, which is the best hint he can give.

Rene's gaze passes over the empty bed, and he smirks internally. "That is very kind of you, Monsieur," he answers, "But I'm afraid I'm a fitful sleeper."

He waits until Isaac's eyes are half mast again and pops the button of his trousers, easing his hand inside. "You'd best sleep," he says, wrapping his hand around himself with the barest of sighs. "Perhaps a nice dream will be waiting for you."

Isaac is already tenting his pajamas with wank and even though he desperately wants to keep watching, he forces himself to close his eyes, mainly to see what Rene is going to do next. His heart is beating like mad and he wants whatever happens next to happen as quickly as it possibly can.

Isaac closes his eyes, and Rene sighs again, hoping that this sleepwalking might begin to occur soon. His wrist twitches into motion, stroking his cock solidly from root to tip, and Aramis muses that the sensation is almost new again. These days it's rarely his own hands on him; instead it's Porthos' or Athos', their hands or their mouths or the tight grip of their bodies. He'd almost forgotten what his own callouses felt like, and after a moment more he tips his head back, truly beginning to enjoy himself.

Isaac breathes out slowly and lets his body settle as he reaches over, arm dangling over the edge of the bed where he can reach out to slide his fingers along the warmth of a knee, rubbing up and down so slowly and deliberately that it's the best invitation he can give. Wordlessly, he makes the touch a little firmer than before, eager to get as much as he can out of this.

Aramis' eyes slit open at the touch, and he smiles a little, unsure where Porthos had wanted him to go, but he knows very well what to do with Rene now. Covering Isaac's hand with his own, he drags it up, replacing his own hand around his cock with Isaac's own. Rene guides him into slow strokes, toes curling for the strength in his paratrooper's hand.

Isaac smirks under the veil of darkness, now shifting as he slides into a sitting position beside the bed, absently beginning to drift as if sleepwalking, right up until he finds the edge of the chair and sinks down into Rene's lap, curling his hand around Rene's cock, yet, burying his head in Rene's neck as if a pillow.

Rene smiles as Isaac joins him, but after a moment he shifts his head, nudging Isaac's upright. His hand is wonderful, but it's a bit like having sex with a very large, very handsome doll, and Rene has never liked his partners unresponsive.

"Are you with me?" he asks, trying to coax Isaac's eyes open with a kiss. "Wake up, Isaac."

He makes a show of slowly fluttering awake, like one of Aramis' princesses in his fairy-tales. He smiles, soft and adoring and curls into Rene a little more. "Hello handsome," he murmurs, under his breath like a secret kept between the two of them.

"Hello darling," Rene croons in turn, surging up to kiss Isaac, both hands buried in his hair the way he's longed to do since he first saw him. Rene sweeps his tongue into his mouth, kissing him deeply before pulling back to pant, "I hope the dream you're having is a nice one."

"Never had a better dream," he confirms, his eyes still half-lidded in the candlelit dark, easing closer to rub his hand up and down Rene's hip, the other stroking his cock with a sureness that he feels when he jumps out of a plane. "I'm going to get in so much trouble."

Rene groans for the skill in Isaac's hand, hips lifting despite Isaac's weight on him for more. "No one has to know," he says, tracing Isaac's collarbone with his fingertips. "I am very good at keeping secrets. Among other things," he promises with a dark smile.

"And what happens if I'm very bad at letting go," Isaac asks, voice hoarse as he continues his work, shifting enough to straddle Rene and leave some space between them. "I don't think you'd appreciate having me stalk you all the time," he murmurs, eyes staring down at the shape of Rene's bulge in the darkness.

"On the contrary," Rene tells him, gazing up at Isaac with dark eyes. "If I thought you might be lurking in the shadows, waiting for me with this body, that smile and these eyes, I would venture down every alley in town."

He relaxes back against the chair, allowing Isaac to look his fill, his body shifting and flexing as Isaac's hand wrings pleasure from deep within him. "Your hand is incredible."

"And what happens when you wander down the wrong alley and someone not very much like me is waiting?" Isaac puts forward, working his hand steadily, digging his shoulder down into it to really make it work for them. "I'm very diligent about my practice."

"Fight them, if they are dangerous," Rene tells him, breaths coming quicker now as Isaac puts new effort into stroking him, "I love fighting. And when I have won, turn down the next alley in search of you." Rene can't stop the groan that tumbles from his throat. "Especially now that I know you are this good with your hands."

"I love fighting," Isaac sighs happily, thinking of the last few fights he'd been in. "And I'm always good with my hands, whether it's this or shutting someone's face down," he promises, grinning as he leans in for a nip of a kiss before his strokes turn faster.

"I should like to see that," Rene gasps, "You must be a brilliant fighter." He grasps at Isaac's shoulders, shuddering now with the pleasure coursing through him. "Isaac, if you continue, you will make me spend."

"I thought that's what I was aiming to do," he replies, very soft and half sweet. "Rene," he murmurs tenderly. "I haven't made a handsome man like you spend in months. I'd love to just watch your face. Won't you let me do that?"

Aramis groans, losing sight of Rene for a moment as he realizes how rare this is. They get one another off almost constantly, but Porthos is usually down between his legs, or above or beneath him and too distracted by his own ecstasy to truly witness Aramis'. Settling back, Aramis resolves to give him everything he's asked for, letting his pleasure wash over Rene's features.

"So good, Isaac," he moans, eyes slipping closed as the pleasure builds, tripping like electric current down his spine. One hand fists in Isaac's sleeve like a lifeline, and Rene's head tilts back as his breaths come even faster, heart pounding and hurtling him closer to orgasm. At last it grips him, and Rene gives a small shout as he spills over Isaac's hand, his mouth wide but almost upturned as he revels in the ecstasy Isaac has brought him.

He pays attention to every single last moment, refusing to look away for any of this. He wants to cherish this as much as he can, as if he's only going to get the one chance to watch him do this. He buries his face in Rene's neck, stroking him through this as he sinks down into his lap slowly, his own arousal pressing against Rene's hip.

Still shivering with the effects of such an excellent orgasm, Rene winds his arms carefully around Isaac's back, hanging onto him while he catches his breath. "Pardieu," he sighs, "If you can make me feel like that with your hand, imagine what your cock can do."

He reaches a hand between them, grasping for where he can feel Isaac's arousal pressing into him. He folds his hand around it through Isaac's pajamas and groans. "Big, aren't you?"

Isaac grins sheepishly, a touch bashful as he shrugs his shoulders, as if he doesn't want to boast about his own body. "I've never had any complaints," he admits, pushing at Rene's shoulders to stand up and ease back to the bed, body creaking and wincing for the straddled position.

Aramis watches him carefully to see how deep that discomfort goes, but Porthos seems to be merely sore after their romp. He stands in the space Porthos has left, spreading Rene's hands over Isaac's shoulders.

"Anyone who complained of a man like you would be mad," he says softly, winding his fingers through Isaac's curls to tilt his head back. "I would like to give you pleasure in return, you darling, modest hulk of a man. What would you like from me?"

Isaac rubs his hands up and down Rene's hips, looking up at him with hope in his eyes and something more than eagerness there as he thinks about what he could possibly ask for that they haven't already done, but he wants it to be special. "Will you take me?" he asks. "From behind? Me on my stomach, you filling me up completely?"