The musketeer known as Athos raised the cup to his lips taking a long slow sip of the wine he chose to favour this evening. In the candlelight of the tavern the color was a dark red. Appropriate, he thought considering the amount of bloodshed that nearly cost him and his three companions their lives. It was foolish, choosing to stand and fight when greatly outnumbered and now both Amaris and Pathos were on leave for lord knows how long. Wallowing in his thoughts, he did not hear the approach of another until a hand came down on his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"I thought I'd find you here." d'Artagnan slid into the seat across, pulling the glass bottle towards him and taking a long sip straight from the bottle. Athos watched, his breath silently hitching at the sight of his companions stretched neck, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed. Placing the bottle down in front of him he leaned closer, searching Athos face silently.

"It's not your fault."

Raising a brow, the older man kept silent, refusing to make eye contact.

"Athos"

Sighing he turned his face to d'Artagnan, a frown across his face. "I was in command, I should have made better choices and not risked my men. I failed to protect them."

d'Artagnan let out a short laugh. "Failed? Is that what you think you have done? Do you forget who you are friends with? Not one of us would have backed down nor left you behind. You take too much responsibility."

He stopped, leaning closer across the table so he could put his hand on Athos arm. "Today was a bad day, but things could have been worse. Aramis says the cut was shallow, it only looked bad. And Porthos should be back by the end of the week."

"I see." He felt a stab of guilt at choosing to come straight here to this tavern once he knew his men would be safe. As usual he had wanted the numbness of drink to keep the guilt and loathing away.

"No one is blaming you except yourself."

The younger man shook his head, hair swaying as he moved. Is it as soft as it looked? Athos stopped his hand from moving to touch the locks.

Nodding, the two men quietly finished off their bottle, the older lost in thought as he finished off his cup. Pausing to glance at the bottle he shook his head. He did not want d'Artagnan to see him drunk. Rising from his seat he grabbed his hat. "I think it time to retire."

He was not surprised to see the other follow suit, catching up and walking with him, despite the Bonacieux house being in the opposite direction. Reaching his rooms he left the door open, knowing to send the other away was folly.

"I do not need a nursemaid."

"I am not playing nursemaid. I…" Pausing d'Artagnan cleared his through before rushing on. "I just did not want to be alone tonight."

Athos froze, not daring to look around and interrupt the younger man. A hand gripped his shoulder, turning him around. Lips roughly pressed against him and were pulled back before he could respond.

"I.. sorry. Just with everything that happened today, I needed to tell you." Blushing he let Athos go pulling away and trying to take a step back. What the hell. He walked d'Artagnan to the wall, pinning him in place as he leaned down and kissed him, sliding his tongue into the others mouth to stop his speech. Groaning hands came up and gripped his collar, holding him in place as their tongues danced and each fought for dominance. Biting d'Artagnan's lip he pulled away, taking in quick breaths.

"Clothes off now." His voice was hoarse as he worked at his own, fingers fumbling with buckles.

Once they were both naked he pulled d'Artagnan back to him, moving to the bed and falling down, bringing the other onto his lap. As their lips met once more, he pulled d'artagnan's hips downward to his, creating fiction between them.

His lips dragged down the throat that had his attention earlier that day until he reached his chest, catching the bud of a nipple between his teeth. Hissing, d'Artagnan arched his back his hands grabbing the back of Athos head.

"Christ Athos."

"You can call me by my birth name; Olivier, given the circumstances." Grinning he went back to work, teeth and tongue bringing out delicious noises. Rolling them over he gripped both their cocks in his fist, working them together as he buried his head against d'Artagnan's shoulder.

"Dear God. Olivier." d'Artagnan moaned his name as he tried to buck upwards. "Feels so good."

"I would hope so." He captured DdArtagnan's lips in a kiss once more, his pace speeding up until he could feel the other freezing, his moans swallowed by Athos mouth. Feeling the hot liquid hit his stomach, he only lasted a moment or two longer before falling off the edge.

Letting go, he maneuvered their bodies so he wouldn't suffocate the other, their legs still tangled and bodies pressed close together.

"That was not how I expected tonight to end." He finally got to run his hand through d'Artagnan's hair, noting to himself that it was indeed as soft as it appeared.

"Better I hope."

Immensely."