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[afineseamstress]

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.

Comments

[du_vallon]

He drifts right into that well-placed touch, moaning desperately for it. He only wants more of it, even though he knows he shouldn't and that Treville would be furious with him if he gave in. That's what comes of having an uncle as your commander. "And if you had your oils, I would be tempted to so much more," he sighs.

"I should be good," he laments.

[afineseamstress]

"Would you?" asks Rene, letting his hand drift up to rub at Isaac's scalp now, fingers sifting through his curls. "That is very intriguing statement, Monsieur. But you are good, are you not?" he asks. "A decorated trooper of such renown that you must have security to look after you. They don't hire me for just anyone, you know."

[du_vallon]

"Am I special, then?" Isaac wonders, shifting as he tries to get away, but finds himself lured right back to that blissful touch that he can't ignore. "Do you do this for all your clients?" he asks, as another shiver overwhelms him.

[afineseamstress]

"No," Rene answers. "Only the ones I want to. And the ones that want me too, of course," he adds. "You seemed like you wanted it very much, Monsieur Isaac."

Leaning in again, Rene lets his nose graze Isaac's shoulder, enjoying his scent. "May I call you Isaac, Monsieur?"

[du_vallon]

"I do want it," he exhales, barely more than a tiny whisper as he moans and leans forward, trying to get himself away from the danger. "Rene," he pleads. "I'm going to get in trouble. You're going to get in trouble," he says. "I should go to my room and go to bed. And then whatever happens in the dark...well, I'll just say I was sleepwalking then."

"I can't be faulted for sleepwalking, can I?"

[afineseamstress]

"I suppose not," Aramis tells him, "But sleep feels like such a long time away." His arm drifts around Isaac now, following the lines of his uniform in their arc from his torso, dipping down towards his groin.

"This is marvelous stitching," he murmurs. "Do all paratroopers' uniforms have it?"

[du_vallon]

Isaac lets out a soft breath, but manages to stop himself from moaning -- only just barely. "They've got something like it," he agrees, his voice strung and a touch higher than usual, even as he pulls himself away from the touch. "And I'm very, very tired, Monsieur." He gives Rene a pointed look as he begins to wander backwards.

"You should put some tea on, if you plan to stay awake."

[afineseamstress]

Rene watches him from the couch, his face open in its disapproval for Isaac walking away from him, but he rises with a professional air. "As you wish," he says, hoping to expedite said sleep walking as he stretches, t-shirt riding up over his hips in his low slung leathers.

"I believe I'll enjoy a little more tequila before turning in."

[du_vallon]

God, he's married the most insanely beautiful man. Porthos can't help but take a moment to observe that fact as he drifts to the bedroom, leaning in the door. "Just so you know," he says, hoping to be helpful. "It usually only takes me a few minutes to fall asleep. Enjoy your tequila, Rene," he murmurs, licking his lips.

[afineseamstress]

Rene nods his thanks, drifting closer to the table as Isaac disappears into his room. The room is warm, and Rene might turn in as well. It's enough justification, he thinks, when he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it. Pouring a new drink, Rene takes his glass to the window, leaning one hand against it as he looks out over the city.

The sun is setting, and the lights of Darrow are just beginning to twinkle on. If he makes for a lovely silhouette against it, Aramis will hardly complain.

[du_vallon]

Porthos debates what he should do here. In the end, he settles for dragging out the bag he'd brought in earlier, digging out a pair of flannel pajama pants that are comfortable in a soft, soft way and a white t-shirt that hides most of the bruises (there's a few on his arms it doesn't hide). It takes him some time, but he changes into the crisp, clean-smelling clothes.

Porthos sneaks out in the middle, just to watch Aramis' shadow in the sunset, thinking again how lucky he is, but he's quiet as he sneaks back to the bed and turns out all the lights save the candle he burns on the nearby desk.

[afineseamstress]

After a time, Aramis turns, and when it seems that Porthos truly has gone to bed he drains the rest of his glass, waiting for the burn to settle in his stomach. Perhaps Porthos should rest. He is still healing, and hurting for it, too, but he knows that isn't what Porthos has come here for.

Pulling Rene back on, he strides into Isaac's bedroom, tapping on one of the smaller lights. "Forgive me, Monsieur," he says, "I thought I heard a noise."

[du_vallon]

"I have no idea what you mean, I'm absolutely sleeping," he deadpans, completely evenly as he curls up with the pillow at his back and one he's wrapped around, barely opening his eyes as he turns half-lidded eyes to Rene and observes the way he looks and moves. "May have been me having a fright. I'm a very stubbornly lonely sleeper."

[afineseamstress]

"Perhaps you will feel easier if I kept vigil," Rene tells him. There is a chair in the corner of the room, and he sprawls into it, legs wide as he makes himself comfortable. If Porthos means to make him work for it, then Aramis will in turn, by God.

He presses the heel of his hand against his groin, shifting slightly. Certain tasks will surely need to be taken into hand, soon, but not until Isaac drifts off again.

[du_vallon]

"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.

[afineseamstress]

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."

[du_vallon]

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.

[afineseamstress]

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.

[du_vallon]

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.

[afineseamstress]

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.

[du_vallon]

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.

[afineseamstress]

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."

[du_vallon]

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.

[afineseamstress]

"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."

[du_vallon]

"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."