Story Notes: I wrote this story in December after a request on Tumblr. It's my first time writing Portamis or Modern Musketeers for that matter. It was still deemed cute and cheesy on AO3 so why not publish it here as well and enjoy some belated Christmas awesomeness?


Chapter 1 - Christmas night


One, two, three...

There's a regular pattern weaving its way through Porthos' slumber. He turns his head the other way, buries his face in the pillow.

One, two, three, four...

Porthos clutches the bedcover, retreats deeper into the warmth of the blanket. It's too soft and too comfortable and it's definitely too early to wake up.

One, two, three, four, five...Nothing for a while.

Porthos relaxes, sighs, stretches and gropes the space next to him. Nothing. It's still warm, but cooling fast.

One, two, three, four...

Porthos growns, the sound muffled by the fort he has erected on top of his body. He shakes his legs, rolls on his side, carefully peers out and opens one eye.

It's not as bright as he imagined in the room. There's only one small bedside lamp glowing in the dark.

One, two, three, four, five...

"What are you doing?" he mumbles, not sure that his words can be heard correctly. He refuses to let go of the blanket and his nose as well as his mouth are still hidden.

There's one chuckle coming from the window, but no real answer.

One, two, three, four...

"Come back to bed. It's...dammit, Aramis! It's 3 in the morning!" Porthos finally throws the bedcover to the end of the bed, and shivers. He doesn't wear a pajama top and it's colder in their bedroom than it was when he was comfortable in their bed.

Aramis eventually turns around, and even with the light dimmed, Porthos can tell he's grinning. He does not look tired or drowsy. How long has he been awake?

All of a sudden, Aramis darts to the bed, jumps on it, and croutches so that his face is so close to Porthos's their noses bump.

"It's snowing!"

Porthos groans, but there's a smile stretching on his lips. Even in the middle of the night, even if he's been awoken by his boyfriend acting like a kid, he cannot be angry with him. Not when Aramis sounds so delighted.

"Is it now?" Porthos rubs his eyes, aware that there's no going back to sleep now. Not in the near future anyway. When he can finally focus, Aramis is still looking at him, wild curls framing his face. He's wearing one of Porthos's sweaters, too big for him.

"Come and see!"

"No need for that. I trust you." As much as he loves to make his boyfriend happy, the idea of actually getting up is not appealing at all.

"But it might be gone by morning," Aramis sounds disappointed, so when Porthos gives no sign of moving, he stands up anyway and goes back to the window.

"It's December," Porthos reminds him. "It'll snow again soon, I'm sure."

"Well, yes, but it's Christmas night."

And now that sleep is slipping away, Porthos remembers. He remembers accompanying Aramis to church for Christmas Eve Service as they do every year Porthos would not mind spending the entire evening just the two of them in their apartment but it's important for Aramis.

He remembers eating a little too much afterwards, drinking perhaps a little too much. He remembers wrestling his boyfriend to the floor so he would not open his presents before Christmas morning.

He remembers giggles and tickles, and laughter and squeals, because Aramis turns into an actual child when he is happy, and Christmas is his favourite holiday. Given that Porthos is his favourite person, the two together made for a perfect evening.

Porthos sits up in bed as he remembers kisses and wandering hands and now he remembers where his pajama top is. Somewhere in the Christmas tree, if they haven't knocked it over.

One, two, three, four, five...

Aramis is still tapping on the window every time a snowflake falls by when Porthos eventually decides that joining him is worth it. He's by his side in a flash, arms sneaking around his waist from behind, and hugging him. Aramis stops his snow-counting and sinks into the warmth embrace.

"Merry Christmas," Porthos whispers, his lips leaving a trace on Aramis's neck. He sighs, clutches the two hands which found their way underneath the sweater he's wearing. They're soft against his stomach, but he shivers anyway.

They remain like this for a while, watching snow fall on the city, leaving a white cover on the rooftops. It's likely to melt by morning, they live in a big city after all, it's never cold enough. But for now, it's peaceful and almost magical and Aramis has a myriad of cheesy things swirling in his mind that he could say, but he doesn't.

Porthos wouldn't mind. Porthos never minds. Porthos would smile, chuckle, call him a foolish romantic, but he would love it anyway.

Porthos can feel Aramis's body relax against his own, relax even more than it was before. His curly hair tickles Porthos's bare shoulder. His breathing is steady, so much that after long minutes of silent contemplation, Porthos wonders if his boyfriend hasn't fallen asleep.

"You still with me?" he asks, his voice hoarse, his throat dry from sleep and lack of water. There's only a nod to confirm. Aramis's answer comes seconds later.

"Always."

"You can go back to bed if you want. I didn't want to wake you up," he adds after while. But his fingers clutch Porthos's forearm, telling a different story. He's sleepy, too, he realizes, but snow falling on Paris is a pretty sight which does not happen often enough.

"I'm good holding you."

"Do you think it's snowing in the countryside, too?"

"Who knows? For Athos's sake, I hope it's not. He's going to be cranky enough as it is without the driving hazard it could trigger."

Aramis snorts.

"I bet he'd love having the excuse of building a snowman to avoid spending more time with his family."

It's Porthos's turn to snigger.

"Athos building a snowman? That's something I'd like to see!"

Aramis turns around in his arms, breaking the embrace only to sink deeper onto Porthos's body. He slides his hands up his arms until he is all but clinging to his neck. They're both smiling, sleepy. Aramis looks at him mischievously and Porthos cocks his head.

"Do you want to build a snowman?"

Porthos rolls his eyes. Aramis should not be allowed to work with children. Especially children who are crazy about Disney movies and won't watch anything else.

Aramis kisses him quickly. One, two, three, four times.

"Shut up, Prince Charming."

One, two, three, four kisses.

One, two, three, four steps backwards and they stumble on the bed.