It's quiet in the room, except for heavy breathing and the sounds of sloppy kisses. Aramis pushes his tongue as far as he can inside Porthos's mouth, savors every second of it, his hot and sticky body pressed so tightly to the other's.
Porthos enjoys the feeling of Aramis straddling him, naked flesh pressed to his own thighs, hands enclosing his face, holding it in place as if it was the most precious thing in the world for Aramis.
There's a hum from Aramis as Porthos rubs his thighs, moves to his ass and proceeds to trail his fingers higher up his back. He might be slowly coming back from his high, all his senses are heightened by his pleasure and his skin is so sensitive. His hips rock unvoluntarily against Porthos's groin.
Porthos growls in approval, grinds back, tightens his hold on Aramis's shoulders. Fingernails dig there.
His shirt is mostly unbuttoned by now, from all the rolling around and tugging at it that's been happening and yet, Aramis struggles to get the bottom ones undone.
There's a sense of urgency in his actions, because Porthos has made him feel so good, he's still making him feel so good that he wants to reciprocate, as fast and as thoroughly as he can.
When he groans again, it's in frustration.
Porthos stills Aramis's hands, wraps them in his own.
"Hey, there's no need to rush." It's a whisper against their lips which breaks their kiss. Porthos compensates the loss by kissing the corner of Aramis's mouth. He's staring right at him, wonder in his eyes. But he stops trying to take his clothes off.
"Weren't you the one with your hand down my pants even in the hallway?"
"Definitely me."
"And weren't you the one who couldn't wait to get rid of your clothes?"
"Absolutely, but...I've seen you in all of your glory now and it truly is magnificent."
Porthos cannot be sure whether the rosy cheeks are a consequence of what he just said or simply that Aramis is flushed from his orgasm. The sheepish and embarassed look on his face is nice nonetheless.
"So...I want to be able to enjoy it as long as I can."
He says it in a low voice which makes Aramis shiver and his hips rock once more. Porthos stifles his moan, wants to stay in control of himself. He drops his lips to Aramis's shoulder, licks a bit of sweat there, nibbles at the skin before moving from the side of his collarbone up to his neck.
It tickles Aramis a little, but it's the best kind of sensation. He throws his head back, gives Porthos better access to do whatever he wants. His fingers don't even resume their previous job when Porthos releases them to return to Aramis's back.
He makes sure he touches every inch of it, warms his skin so much more than it already is. Aramis might have already come minutes earlier, each touch brings him closer to arousal once again.
"Besides, taking your time can be so much better," Porthos whispers again, lips right below Aramis's ear, the tip of his tongue brushing his skin. His hands trail down the other's thighs until he finds Aramis's hands, clutched by his sides.
Carefully, slowly, Porthos pries them open, laces their fingers together. It's a very intimate position and he relaxes his back, lets himself sink against the headboard.
Aramis smiles up at him, gives their hands an encouraging squeeze. Porthos smiles back, reaches up to capture Aramis's lips in another lingering kiss.
He's been heard, as they move slowly, because there is indeed no hurry and Aramis only breaks away after a thumb caresses his hand lightly, back and forth, a soothing gesture. He's breathing more easily now.
"You want it slow, that's what you're saying?"
Porthos nods. Aramis grins.
"I can do slow."
He mirrors Porthos's actions from earlier, abandons his mouth for his neck, sucks along the line of his shirt. He rocks his hips so carefully, barely touching Porthos's groin anymore. When he speaks again, his lips vibrates against Porthos's skin, make his heart speed up.
"I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into, though."
"Try me," Porthos gasps out.
"Very well."
Aramis's hands dip inside Porthos' open shirt. He relishes in finding nothing but hot and hard skin underneath it.
It's quiet in the room again so Porthos almost surprises himself as he cries out at the slim fingers grazing his stomach, circling his nipples, hardly any pressure and only the touch of a feather. He throws his head back, hits the headboard, but doesn't feel any pain.
His cock throbs with each of Aramis's move, it strains in his boxers after he repositions himself on Porthos's lap.
"My, you're quite something," Aramis marvels when the shirt is finally undone and he can admire Porthos's chest. He traces the muscles, doesn't forget one, from the abs to the arms.
Porthos would chuckle and find a clever come-back if he wasn't entirely submerged by the hot desire building inside of him, crawling under his skin, going straight between his legs.
Aramis seems so careful now, so in control, which he actually likes. He has to smirk when it's Porthos who seeks a much-needed friction that he isn't providing just yet.
Now that he isn't clouded by his own urgent desire as he was before, Aramis can appreciate the dark body he has at his disposal for all that it is, bulky and silky, a bit sweaty. It's as if he's running his fingers on satin.
He licks his lips, bends his head to give even more attention to Porthos's nipples, rolls his tongue around one, over and over again. There's no steady pattern to what he's doing, which seems to agree with Porthos, considering the loud moans he's making.
Aramis cannot get tired of what he tastes, never wants to and sucks hard, bites a little. Porthos bucks his hips.
"Jesus, Aramis! Do that again..."
He complies happily, bites down once more, groans at the fingers digging in his ass, keeping him there and begging him to move.
Aramis does so, yet still too tantalizing slow to do more than torture Porthos. It's a good sort of torture, but he feels like he is about to implose, almost cruches Aramis's body against his.
He groans, can't decide if he prefers the tongue swirling around his nipples, going from one to the other, the teeth lightly scratching his chest in the process, or the wandering hand, tracing a path along his side, from his navel to the waistband of his underwear.
Not touching, never going below, barely grazing the elastic band.
"You're killing me," he pants, running his fingers through Aramis's curls. Aramis hums with pleasure, almost a purr.
"You brought it on yourself."
"I know, and I like it a lot, but you're still killing me." He's amazed he managed to speak that much, given the sharp breaths he has to take. Aramis looks out of breath, too, as he raises his head to look at him in the eye.
It's quite a sight to behold, that gorgeous man in his bed, enjoying being touched that much, letting Aramis take care of him, and it turns him on. He can feel himself getting hard again.
"Should I still go slow?" he asks, fingers waiting on Porthos's waist, tugging on his underwear. Porthos glimpses down, notices Aramis's cock between them, clean and raw, and yet slowly showing how aroused he is.
"Oh, I can take it, but you..."
Aramis doesn't take offense in the teasing. Instead, he shuts Porthos up with his mouth, sucks on his bottom lip while he lets his fingers play with his hard nipples. He gives Porthos the friction he needs, rolls his hips, more forcefully than earlier but still as slowly.
Porthos sees more stars behind his closed eyelids, grinds against Aramis's, pushes his hips up to meet the other's, and then is totally shocked when Aramis moves over. It leaves him cold and empty, nothing to touch.
"On your back, soldier," Aramis orders. Porthos does as he's told. His boxers are off in one swift motion, leaving him completely naked. He stays silent while Aramis takes him in, licks his lips and then looks back at him with dark eyes.
"Like what you're..."
Aramis cuts him off, scrambles on top of him, crushes their lips together. Porthos cannot stop hissing once their cocks are effectively rubbing against one another, no piece of clothing in between.
He doesn't really care about going slow anymore. Aramis must sense it, because his movements get wilder, faster, more eager.
Porthos wraps his arms around his body, it's not gentle and there might be too much pressure. Aramis doesn't complain, rejoices in being so close.
"You're a gorgeous man," he gasps, hands framing Porthos's face. He can only smile back. "If only you knew...what I'd do to you..."
"I want to know," Porthos growls, the words and everything that lies behind them arousing him much more than he already is.
There's a devilish smile illuminating Aramis's face. He keeps rolling his hips, slower, gentler, catching his breath. Porthos finds it the best kind of supplice. He's squirming a little underneath Aramis, wants so badly to find his release.
His hands fall to the bed as Aramis slides down his body, kisses his way from his jaw, scruffy and rough to the smooth skin of his chest. Porthos shivers at the wet pressure on his stomach, bucks his hips.
"Aramis, fuck!" he gasps when the other wraps his fingers arouns his cock, as gently as possible and with such pressure that it makes him go bling for a second.
"Maybe later," Aramis agrees, his breath fanning over Porthos's thigh, thumb brushing the tip of his cock, spreading wetness all over it. He steadies Porthos's hips, strokes leisurely, enjoys how big and full his cock is, loves how it twitches under his touch.
"That all right?" he asks for good measure, dropping kisses on Porthos's thighs and his lower stomach.
"Fuck yeah, it is."
Aramis still goes slow, doesn't forget that Porthos seems to get off more from not rushing things.
Porthos gathers the bedcover in his fists, cannot help arching his back as soon as Aramis licks his cock, sucks on it, hums around it. He only uses the tip of his tongue, short touches that drive Porthos insane.
Aramis's mouth is incredibly hot when it finally closes around him, swallows so much of him that Porthos forgets to breathe for a few seconds.
He's as skilled at using his tongue for this as he was for kissing.
Porthos buries one hand in his hair, the other thrown across his face. If he blocks the light, if he doesn't look down, he might not make a mess too fast. One glance at what Aramis is doing would be the end of him, he's sure of it.
"You need to...go faster," he manages to ask. His voice is urgent et so demanding, almost pleading. Aramis is pleased with it.
His fingers close at the base of Porthos's cock, stroke and rub while his tongue takes care of the rest, licks and sucks, over and over again. Porthos tastes amazing down there as well and he appreciates the hand on his head not pushing him too hard.
"I told you you couldn't take how slow I could be," he teases after he has to breathe a bit and so repositions himself next to Porthos. The other can simply growl and press on the back of his neck.
Aramis strokes Porthos's cock, fondles his balls, likes the way his body reacts to every single one of his touches, how sensitive he is.
He bends his head again, drops one small kiss on the tip of his cock, sucks alongside it, licks his balls, caresses them with his tongue and Porthos can give no warning.
He cries out, grabs a handful of dark curls to hold on to, and comes all over Aramis's hair.
"My God," he's panting when he comes down from his orgasm, feels like he is floating around in the room. "Never do that again. I mean...yes, definitely do it again, but...warn me beforehand. Aramis, wow..."
Aramis isn't upset in the slightest. It's nothing that a good shower can't fix. The look of pure ecstasy on Porthos's face, right on his bed, because of something he's done to him, that's all he's asking for.