Porthos is a man on a mission and if he dares say so, he's handling his burden quite remarkably. He manages to open the door of Athos's building and then the door to his loft while balancing two pizzas and one pack of beer in his hands.

It's about time, though, when he deposits everything on the counter in the seemingly empty living room. He's sweating a bit and he navigates the kitchen to get some water as if it was his own apartment. It might as well, for all the time he spends there.

This part of the loft being quiet despite the lights on, Porthos downs his water and wanders towards the room Athos uses as his art studio. Or rather, he starts going there when the bathroom door suddenly opens and a naked stranger emerges through it.

He seems as surprised as Porthos when he realizes he's not alone, and he clutches the single towel he's wearing draped around his waist with both hands.

"I forgot my jeans," is his only explanation, and Porthos wonders if it's also an excuse. But he's too busy studying the gorgeous, albeit unsure, face staring back at him.

Porthos still doesn't say anything, mesmerized by the half-naked man who stumbles hastily to the couch, grabs the clothes left there and retreats to the bathroom. And as the door closes once more loudly, he realizes he never said a word.

"I didn't know you had company over," Porthos calls out in the sudden silence until Athos emerges from his own bedroom, all the while buttoning his cardigan.

"I don't."

"Well, in that case, you better call the police because there's a naked man in there," he points to the bathroom and Athos shakes his head, leans against the kitchen counter.

"That's my model for my new project. Things got a bit dirty and I wasn't about to...not like that," he scowls as Porthos raises an eyebrow at what he just said.

"I mean, I wouldn't blame you. He's quite something. Where did you find him?"

"The university. They always have students willing to make some more money by modelling. Don't make that face, he's 27," Athos adds because this time it's Porthos's turn to scowl at the word "student." He relaxes at once, leans a bit closer, whispers outrageously loudly.

"And? Anything else which might prove interesting? Useful?"

"We didn't really chit-chat. We were working."

He reaches for a beer, opens it, takes a few sips to celebrate an afternoon well-spent and all the work he's accomplished in only a couple of hours. He's exhausted, sure, but it's the good kind of exhaustion, and he's looking forward to doing it again.

Porthos follows suit, sits on a stool and drinks, too.

"So you're not interested?"

"I'm interested in his body, sure."

"Did I say I was interested in something else?"

Athos rolls his eyes, waits for Porthos to be done laughing out loud to answer.

"You do know he can probably hear you, right?"

And he shakes his head, focuses on his drink as his best friend keeps on laughing.

It takes a couple more minutes before the student slash model comes back in the living room. He's fully clothed this time, jeans included, his hair is a bit damp and he has to constantly push back the curls falling on his face.

"Sorry about earlier," he apologizes to Porthos. He doesn't look as sheepish as before.

"No problem," Porthos dismisses it with a wave of his hand. "You know how to make an entrance, that's for sure."

"Always a pleasure."

"I'm Porthos, by the way."

"Aramis," the stranger replies, shaking the extended hand. And then he has no other choice but to smile back at Porthos' warm eyes which keep staring right at him until Aramis blushes profusely.

"Nice to meet you. I got to say, you made my evening far better than I expected it to be when I got here."

Athos tuts behind him, but it only makes Porthos chuckle.

"Glad to be of service."

"We're...hmmm...going to watch the football match. You wanna stay a bit and have a beer?"

Athos rolls his eyes once more at his best friend shamelessly asking his model to hang out, in his loft, on his couch, and not even bothering to see if Athos had a problem with it.

He doesn't, not really. But it's not in his habit to spend more time than necessary with people he's seen naked in his studio. Better to keep it all very professional. Porthos has no scruple at all.

"That's tempting but I already have plans to watch it with friends. And...I'm going to be late!" Aramis realizes as he checks his watch. "But another time? That'd be great," he suggests, half-buttoning his jacket and half-looking for his phone.

"Sure."

"Excellent!" And he sounds so genuine that Porthos believes him. "Tomorrow at 6?" he then asks Athos who hands him a bunch of cash and nods to confirm.

"What are you doing?" Porthos asks once Aramis has left the place and he shakes his head so he won't keep staring at the closed front door. Athos is thrusting a piece of paper at him, one he's taken from his wallet as well. "What's that?"

"His contact info. I suppose you need it as much as I do." Athos is grinning when Porthos glares at him.

"Did you hear what he said? I don't need his phone number. I'll be here tomorrow, too."

And with that, he grabs his beer, the pizza boxes and strides to the couch, sits down comfortably, makes himself at home.