Chapter Text
Athos had groped for the phone when the buzzing had started again. Porthos stole a chance to squeeze his waist with both arms and Athos wasn't about to stop him. He angled the phone slightly so Porthos could see his reprimand.
Porthos muffled his laugh against Athos’ neck. “Want me to call him?”
Athos breathed out harshly, he really did want Aramis concentrating in the weather. He also knew that if Aramis received no indication that his text had been received then he might try sending another lengthy message. Athos certainly didn’t want Aramis trying to read any texts from them.
He nodded and held his phone up for Porthos to speak as he toggled to make the call. He hit the speaker icon and they both heard half a ring before Aramis.
“Athos!” The cheery voice came through the modified speakerphone. The slight distortion didn’t lessen the welcome depth of Aramis’ tone. “I am safely transporting my well-sculpted rear home.”
Athos really wished Aramis could see his eyes roll. At least he could hear Porthos’ laughter.
“Ain’t gonna argue with that, but since we’re so found of it...” Porthos dragged the next bit out at a louder volume, “...and you...hang up and watch where you’re going.”
Athos glanced up at the rain tattooing on the window. The lightning was still pulsing in reflection across their walls every few minutes.
“But I have such entertaining gossip to share!”
“You can share it when you get back here. Warm and cozy with us.”
“Even if it involves Rochefort and - ”
“Especially then.”
Athos felt Porthos shaking his head against his shoulder.
“Come home and tell us...or...I’ll start withholding things.”
“You wouldn’t.”
They could both hear the slight pout under the laughter.
“Cookies, Aramis.” Porthos warned.
The bereft noise was soft but the phone managed to pick it up.
Porthos squeezed Athos, pushing deeper into the mattress and calling out. “Cuddles too.”
Aramis barked a laugh.
Porthos generally had little poker face where Aramis was concerned, but he could occasionally impose a boundary Aramis would respect. Unfortunately for Porthos, Aramis knew most of his threats had the rigidity of smoke and he waltzed right through them.
“You’d never deny me cuddles!” Aramis objected with certainty, but adding evidence. “You only just stated your fondness for me earlier.” Aramis paused a beat, his quick mind calculating a rejoinder likely having several at the ready for anything Porthos could say.
Athos could feel Porthos lips shift, likely into a frown before a warm puff of air tickled his neck. “Yeah, yeah stop preening. I’ll still cuddle you, but you’ll get no cookies.”
Athos snorted.
“I heard that! Don’t pretend you could withstand my charms any better!”
The thunder was so loud it came over the speakerphone. They didn’t hear it sound near the house despite listening for the echo. Given how many miles away Aramis could be he was likely still passing through the worst bits that had been overhead for them only a short while ago.
Before Athos or Porthos could lecture him Aramis distractedly addressed them.
“I think...I’d better go…”
As if they hadn’t been suggesting exactly that for the past few minutes.
“...figure...maybe...twenty five minutes…”
“So a half-hour.” Porthos deadpanned.
“I like to be precise.” Aramis chirped.
“Prefer you safe over punctual.” Porthos countered.
“Love you too. See you soon!”
The call disconnected before either of them could reply. Athos slid his phone back on the nightstand and smiled to himself. Despite how wrung out he felt – from all the hours he’d been in bed – he looked forward to having them both beside him. He was grateful to the universe at large that they understood just how much he sometimes required their nearness even if he wasn’t able to voice the need.
He settled back against Porthos and tugged the one of the hands on his waist up to hold under his chin.
“I - ”
“You say you’re sorry, and,” Porthos tugged on his waist, shaking him gently in mock warning, “I’ll not defend you if there’s any tickling later.”
Athos pressed a kiss to his knuckles “Apologies.”
Porthos imagined he was remembering all the times he’d gotten in-between the two of them. As with most mischief, it was Aramis who would impulsively go for Athos’ sensitive spots. He’d never confess that he delayed intervening sometimes, especially when Aramis managed to get a pure, clear bout of laughter to break free. It wasn’t like Athos couldn’t defend himself, and of all of them he had the patience to lay in wait – sometimes very long amounts of time – for one of them to enact reprisal.
To counter his own threat Porthos scratched lightly through Athos’ beard. “What’d I just say?” He snuffled his chuckles into Athos’ hair.
Athos sighed against the hand he’d taken captive under his chin.
“On account of you not feeling your best, we’ll let that one go.” He nudged his chin to tuck Athos’ head back under his own. “Besides, you know I’ll always protect you.”