Letting Go and Moving On Chapter 7
"Oh crap" Athos cursed from where he was precariously perched on the arm of the settee, glaring pensively at his mobile phone screen.
"What is it?" Porthos couldn't contain his curiosity, Athos was not the usual culprit when it came to resorting to swearing, as he glanced over at his friend, he couldn't prevent his eyes from straying down to their newest addition to the family, fast asleep.
"My awful family is descending upon us like vultures once more, ready to pick away at my life, judge my choices and just be generally rude and obnoxious"
"When you say your family…" the larger man murmured, moving over to peer over Athos' shoulder and read the text for himself.
"Both my parents, Tommy and his girlfriend too"
"Oh… oh I see"
"What's so bad about your family?" a new voice entered the conversation and the two turned as one. Aramis was peering blearily at them, rubbing tiredly at his eyes from where he had curled himself up to lean against the cushions and Athos' leg on the arm.
Ruffling the younger's hair gently, Athos flashed him a rare wry smile. He knew this would be a difficult subject for himself and Porthos both, goodness knew his parents had given his best friend as much grief as they had him. They were bigoted, homophobic horrors.
"Let's just say we don't get along very well, never have and never will"
"That's the understatement of the century" Porthos snorted
"When will they get here?" Aramis pushed himself upright and began to wake himself up properly "I'll get out of your hair the day before so you can prepare, don't people usually clean when family comes to visit?"
With a melodramatic flourish, Porthos flung himself to his knees before the younger man, sobbing harshly into his arms. "You can't leave me alone with them!" he bawled, grabbing his knees and shaking him slightly "you know what it's like living with one Athos, don't desert me to the tender mercies of three of them!"
"Don' .Compare me to my parents" Athos' tone was murderous and his stare could have sliced through even the hardest of concrete, so intensely was he glaring at his friend. "Not even in jest"
"Sorry Ath"
A warm hand covered his where it lay clenched into a tight fist on the cushion of the settee, it was only then as it calmed, that he realised he was so tense it was actually vibrating with the force. He raised his head and was caught by the deep soulful brown of Aramis' eyes as he stared at him with compassion and understanding.
"I'm sure you're nothing like your parents, I understand the desire to distance yourself from the shadow of your ancestors"
"Okay now we're all getting much too maudlin" Porthos exclaimed, clapping his hands together and rising to his feet in one smooth motion, joints popping alarmingly. "and you mister" he declared pointing emphatically at Aramis "are not going anywhere, no matter how many devious plans you come up with to escape"
"Ah so you admit you are keeping me hostage?" he joked as a tired smile lit up the worn edges of his face.
"No, you are free to leave whenever you want, we would never hold you here against your will." Was Athos' forceful response "We will stop you leaving when we can tell that it's not really what you want, but you just feel as if you are imposing, understood?"
Aramis couldn't keep the startled expression that flitted across his face at the older man's words, it had been many years since any people had the ability see straight through his words to the genuine meaning hidden behind his words. In fact, the last had been when his mother had just been in a car accident and Aramis had turned down offers of a drink and seeing what pretty woman they could pick up at the local bar. Marsac had immediately known that his excuse of a migraine had been a fabrication and followed him as he slouched back to his tent on the outskirts of the camp, barging his way past the flap and throwing himself down carelessly on the bunk. A scarily in-depth conversation followed and having discovered Aramis' persecution complex, Marsac proceeded to give him a solid whack around the head every time his thoughts went down a dark and dangerous laneway.
He nodded dazedly as a large hand was waved before his face to gain his attention.
"Right that's it, food" Porthos declared as he levered both men to their feet and practically bounded into the kitchen, banging open and rifling through the cupboards in search of anything even partially edible. A bad habit that Athos and he had picked up was becoming so absorbed in their work that all else faded into insignificance, more often than not that meant they were distressingly low on supplies. This was especially upsetting for a man such as Porthos, for whom food was the most important part of life, beginning to get anxious when he couldn't find what he wanted.
Not too many minutes later, he emerged from the depths of cupboards with a victorious cry, clutching a packet of noodles to his chest and a packet of biscuits in the other hand that he lobbed haphazardly in their direction.
"Athos, tea. Aramis, biscuits and I'll deal with the stir fry"
Receiving their orders with matching expressions of amusement and shakes of their head in exasperation, the two abandoned the kitchen with hands wrapped around warming mugs of tea.
"Come Aramis" Athos murmured, drawing the younger man gently by the hand into the other room "it's pointless to even try to hold a conversation with Porthos when he's cooking. I thought you and I could have a conversation while we wait"
The younger man scrunched up his nose, sinking onto the bed and tucking one leg underneath him. "A conversation about what?"
A/N: And we will find out what it is in the next chapter! Sorry for the delay in updating all of my stories guys, I started university and life has been so hectic! Hopefully from now on I'll be able to update much more regularly :D
