Warning: A bit of Smut in this chapter.


Capture Hearts

"Hello Musketeer, can Porthos come out and play?"

Athos stares at the smiling man and woman; he recognized them as the two thieves that both the Red Guards and Musketeers (though they didn't put much effort into it like the Red Guards) could never catch, the same thieves who were asking if his new roommate could come out and play. He decides it's too early for this and calls for Porthos before going to the kitchen for wine, the man and woman let themselves in and followed.

"Wine?" he offers.

"It's a bit early for it, don't you think?" the woman says

Athos grunts, and takes a sip, he looks at the two when there is a startled shriek and curse, already knowing what happened.

"Don't you make any noise?" the man grumbles, beside him the woman has her hand on her no doubt racing chest.

"He can, but never does" Athos answered, "Aramis thinks he does it on purpose"

Porthos's lips twitch, from behind him D'Artagnan peeks before hiding.

"Who's this then?" the woman says.

She tries to go behind Porthos to get a better look only for her to be blocked and snarled at.

"Porthos is very protective of him" says Athos to the startled woman, not at all sympathetic after having his usual quiet morning disturbed, "I'd proceed with caution"

"Oh, we have guests" says Aramis as he entered the kitchen.

The thieves were called Flea and Charon, they met Porthos after the Slave had helped Flea get away from some Red Guards; for some reason Flea and Charon had taken an interest in Porthos. Athos and Aramis were not surprised that the two knew where Porthos stayed.

"This is not a good idea" Athos whispers to Aramis.

"Oh come now" Aramis whispers back, "it's not that bad"

Athos gives him a look and both turn to the subjects of their conversation

All of them had moved into the living quarters of the house, currently Charon was teaching Porthos the game of cards….along with how to cheat and not get caught. Flea, after much coaxing, was teaching D'Artagnan how to pick-pocket.

"Okay" Aramis then says looking back at his lover, "maybe it is kind of bad"

Athos snorts and takes a drink from his cup, the man debts what to do, on one hand; he was glad that Porthos and D'Artagnan were making friends with people other than himself, Aramis, Constance; and Bonacieux. On the other hand, he rather the two made friends with people who wouldn't get the two arrested on association alone; that didn't mean he thought those who resided in the Court of Miracles were bad and dishonorable; he knew through experience that this was not true.

"I suppose we'll just have to keep an eye on them" Athos then says.

Aramis nods, lips twitching when D'Artagnan picks Charon's pocket without the man knowing.

"A really close eye"

8 Years Ago

Neither D'Artagnan nor Porthos could put a name to what was between them, all either of them knew was that D'Artagnan was Porthos's, and D'Artagnan liked being Porthos's. Like the warmth that came when Porthos held him in his arms, liked the press of lips to his skin, the gentle touch; the unnamed feeling that the young Slave once knew and sometimes dreamed about. Likewise, Porthos liked that D'Artagnan was his. Liked how the younger fits in his arms, likes how D'Artagnan lets him do whatever and is not afraid, likes that the younger stills smells like the earth.

Present

It's only when he losses count of how many nights he's enter Master Athos's room and curled up in the man's lap, does D'Artagnan finally names the odd warmth he gets when around his Masters.

Like.

He likes his Master, both Athos and Aramis. Likes Master Athos's warm hands that sometimes pets his hair, likes Master Aramis's smile that promised good things, he likes that their Masters don't get angry with him or Porthos.

He likes his Masters.

"I like them too" Porthos says that night, when D'Artagnan tells him about his new discovery.

D'Artagnan smiles, and cuddles close to the man. Porthos makes a happy noise that rumbles from his chest and wraps his arms around the younger.

"You want to tell them?" the older Slave then asks, when D'Artagnan caresses his lips with his fingers.

D'Artagnan nods, yawning as sleep finally descends on him.

"Okay"

Porthos then curls around the younger and follows D'Artagnan into sleep.

The next morning Porthos watches as Athos and Aramis say goodbye to D'Artagnan before leaving for the Garrison, shuffles closer when D'Artagnan tugs on Athos's shirt until the man kneels down.

"Something wrong?" Athos asks.

D'Artagnan looks at him for a moment, before he leans forward and kisses him on the lips.

Silence falls over them, D'Artagnan looks over his shoulder at Porthos, eyes glimmer with rising fear. Porthos comes closer; gently takes hold of the younger's arm and waits.

"Erm, well—that's—uh" Aramis stutters, "Porthos" he then blurts out, "please explain this"

Porthos tilts his head.

"Why did D'Artagnan kiss Athos like that?" Aramis clarifies.

Athos was still in the kneeling position, expression alarmingly blank.

"We like you" Porthos answers, "you and Master Athos"

"Well that's ni—Master Athos?!"

D'Artagnan jumps at the raised voice and scurries behind Porthos, Porthos tenses. Athos blinks, looks at Aramis before the words dawn on him and his pales.

"Oh no D'Artagnan" Aramis quickly soothes, "I'm not angry, not angry, just surprised"

Porthos stares at him before he nods and steps aside, Aramis smiles at down at D'Artagnan who was no longer afraid but still a bit nervous.

"M-Master" Athos murmurs to himself before then looking at the two, "you think we're your Masters"

Porthos nods, brows scrunched in confusion at why the man sounded upset about it.

Athos made a strained noise, while Aramis scratched at his beard nervously.

"Oh boy"

They were late for morning roll call.

7 Years Ago

It's a day after the incident in the market, when Porthos and D'Artagnan are taken out of their cell and brought to the Room.

The Room was used for the most unruly Slaves…or if Master Labarge was in a mood.

Porthos had been in this room numerous times, his arms had endured the strain of being dangling by chains for many days, endured whippings and beatings.

D'Artagnan has never been in this room.

"Heard about your little stunt the other day" Labarge said after the metal door had closed.

Porthos says nothing.

Labarge smirks, before turning to the two men, "Chain him up" the Slave Master says, tilting his head to the wall, before grabbing D'Artagnan.

Porthos's eyes widen in realization, and he resists as he's dragged away from the younger Slave, one of Labarge's men is punched in the struggle, in the end he is chained. He watches as D'Artagnan is hung in the middle of the room then is wet down.

"Let's see if I can make you scream" Labarge says as he gleefully before he swings the cane.

D'Artagnan screams.

It's the last time.

Present

After the kissing incident, Athos and Aramis discovered that Porthos and D'Artagnan saw them as Masters, and while it made them uncomfortable to be thought of in such a way; the men knew it wouldn't do to try in arguing or convincing Porthos and D'Artagnan otherwise.

So the title of Master stays for now.

Another thing that stays is the kissing.

Not only did they not have the heart to tell them to stop, especially after discovering it was the only way the two knew how to express how much they liked their Masters, but Athos and Aramis weren't uncomfortable about the display of affection as they thought they would be. Especially since the kissing was on the lips, perhaps it's because D'Artagnan and Porthos are the ones who incite it or maybe it's because the kissing is innocent in nature.

What's odder is that neither Musketeer feels jealous or possessive of the sight of their lover being kissed by another. Though the made sure to explain that such display of affectionate in public was not allowed, it was the only order the two have given.

8 Years Ago

D'Artagnan's cock does not get hard.

He knows that Porthos's cock can get hard, the guards and their Masters' cocks also get hard.

His does not.

It doesn't accord to the Slave that something is not right about it.

Present

They were kissing when it happened, not the usual kissing that they gave each other and their masters, this one was wetter, involving tongue and was a lot more pleasant. D'Artagnan had been curious after watching (and startling) his masters doing so a couple of times, and had approached Porthos to ask if they could do it. Porthos, who often was on the receiving of such a kiss by Bonnaire, agreed to it and found he enjoyed it more with D'Artagnan then his former master.

Then it happened.

D'Artagnan was hard.

Both of them stared blankly at the tented trousers, this never happened before, and they didn't know what to do with it. Well, they did, but it wasn't something they were inclined to.

They didn't want the pain that came with it.

Kissing D'Artagnan's forehead, Porthos thinks about what to do, he would let D'Artagnan fuck him regardless of it hurting; but knew the younger wouldn't because he doesn't want to hurt Porthos. In his lap, D'Artagnan shifts uncomfortably, Porthos kisses his forehead again and an idea comes to him.

"We'll ask our Masters" he says.

D'Artagnan blinks at him, "They've fuck, and it doesn't seem like it hurts" Porthos explains, he had seen them fuck only once, his Masters did not know he had slipped into the room and watched with memorized eyes. "Maybe they can show us how not to make it hurt"

Eyes widening in understanding, D'Artagnan nods, he slides off the bigger Slave's lap and stands; when Porthos gets on his feet he takes D'Artagnan's hand and they make their way to Master Aramis's room. Both of their Masters were there.

They were fucking.

"Dear Lord!"

Athos grunts as he pushed off the bed and onto the ground, he blinks up at the ceiling in surprised silence before turning his head to look at Porthos and D'Artagnan standing in the middle of the room.

"I-Is something wrong?" says Aramis with a sudden shyness as he pulled the sheet over his lap.

Athos was still sprawled on the floor.

Porthos tilts his head, then speaks, "D'Artagnan is hard".

Aramis blinks, Athos's brow furrowed, after a moment he sits up and looks at the youngest in the room. D'Artagnan was looking down at his tented trousers with a bewildered expression.

"…Oh" Aramis said after a moment, "um, that's good?"

Athos moves from the floor back to the bed, he's still naked and half-hard, and after a brief tug-of-war, had his lap covered with some of the sheet.

"How do we make it not hurt?"

Both Musketeers work over the words, find that they couldn't fully understand, and after sharing a brief glance, Athos speaks, "Perhaps you should explain, what do you mean about hurting?"

Porthos takes a moment to figure out what his Master meant, and then he explains what he and D'Artagnan went through with their previous Masters. When he's done, Athos and Aramis have on expression that neither Slaves can place, and makes them slightly wary. Then Aramis leans over to Athos and whispers in his ear, Athos gives Aramis a look before nodding.

"Alright then, Porthos, D'Artagnan, undress and come sit here" said Aramis, moving closer to Athos and patting the empty space, "we'll show you"

Both Slaves wonders what it meant that they felt no fear as they undressed and climbed into the bed, there was some shifting about until Aramis was settled in between Athos's legs, and the two Slaves mirroring their actions with D'Artagnan settled comfortably between Porthos's legs both of them facing their Masters. Though the sheet still covered, and both Slaves could see Aramis's tented cock, Porthos is surprised at the desire to touch it.

"Alright" Aramis said after taking a deep breathe, "here"

Porthos takes the jar handed to him, inside is something thick and smelled nothing like what his previous Masters used.

"Use that to get your hand wet Porthos" Aramis ordered softly, "now firmly but gently wrap your fingers around D'Artagnan"

Porthos does as ordered, wrapping his fingers around D'Artagnan's now half-hard cock,

"Good, now move your fist up and down, slowly"

Porthos goes slowly, and D'Artagnan's breathe hitched, the bigger Slave stops worried that he hurt him. D'Artagnan makes a soft whining sound, it's a new sound.

It makes something in him warm and his cock twitch.

D'Artagnan makes that sound again, then with slightly hesitated hands touches the fingers around his cock and squeezes once then drops his hand. Porthos moves again.

"Good" Aramis said in approval, "now tighten your hold a little and move a little faster"

Porthos does and D'Artagnan gasps softly, hips twitching, Master Aramis keeps up his instructions, telling Porthos to slow down, go faster, to scrape his nail against the rapidly leaking head; to squeeze just a little harder. Mixed in with those instructions were praises that made the older Slave feel something, while D'Artagnan quiet noises and twitching hips made him hard and leaking.

"Yes, just like that"

The hitching in his Master's voice had Porthos looking up from his moving hand to the man, Master Aramis had his head tilted back, panting and murmuring words of pleasure with finger curled up in thick hair, Master Athos was sucking on Aramis's bare shoulder, while one of his hands had disappeared underneath sheet and the rapid movements under there told Porthos what the man was doing.

Porthos's throat suddenly felt very dry.

Suddenly D'Artagnan arched, made a surprised sound and he was spilling over Porthos's hand, across from them, Master Aramis moaned; tilted his head further back, Master Athos bites at the displayed skin. Vaguely the big Slave is aware of D'Artagnan slumping against him, eyes still locked onto his Masters.

Finally, Master Aramis slumped back against Master Athos, panting slightly with a dazed expression; Porthos glanced down and sees the same expression on D'Artagnan's, before looking back up at his Masters. They were kissing now, opened mouth and somewhat dirty looking.

Porthos kisses the top of D'Artagnan's head.

Something slightly cold and wet touches his hard cock, Porthos looks down to see D'Artagnan's small wet hands wrap around it, his hold is firm and movements slowly, when he goes faster Porthos moans. Thumbs brushing over his leaking head made him gasp and hips twitch. A firmer hold and more fast movements makes him a little louder.

"Someone is a fast learner"

The Slave looks up from the moving hands to his Masters, and finds both of them watching.

Porthos spills.


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