Summary: For the prompt "Aramis gets the shock of his life to find Athos and Porthos doing each other wearing corsets and underwear."
"Hey, Athos. Come here." Porthos beckoned him across to the corner of the training yard, and looked around carefully to make sure no-one was paying attention. "Give me your hand."
"What? Why?" Athos' look of confusion turned to one of amused scandal as Porthos started to draw his hand inside his jerkin. "Porthos!" he protested. "This is hardly the place - oh." He broke off as his hand encountered not the linen shirt that he'd been expecting, but altogether harder ridges and webbing. He frowned, hardly able to credit the evidence of his own senses.
"Are you wearing a corset?" he hissed incredulously.
Porthos looked pleased with himself. "Told you I had a surprise for you," he said. He leaned forwards to breathe in Athos' ear. "D'you know what else I'm wearing? Stockings and garters."
"Oh Lord," Athos muttered faintly, casting a wary glance around them before leaning towards him. "Are you trying to make me kiss you?" he demanded under his voice.
"Careful," Porthos chuckled, pleased with his reaction. "Someone'll see."
"Sod that, I'm an inch away from pinning you against the wall," Athos said tightly. "I shall be completely unable to concentrate all afternoon." He glared at Porthos. "Which is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?"
Porthos smirked. "Well I'm the one wearing it, so I figured we might as well both be distracted." He leaned in and rested a hand on Athos' hip, out of sight of the rest of the yard.
"I am going to fuck you so hard tonight," he breathed, then squeezed Athos on the arse and strode off.
As soon as the door closed behind them in their room in the garrison, they turned to each other with a look of guarded anticipation. Then the tension snapped and Athos practically hurled himself into Porthos' arms.
Porthos picked him bodily up off the ground and Athos wrapped his legs around him as Porthos bore him over to the bed. They fell onto the coarse blanket, kissing each other fiercely and already fumbling with buttons and fastenings, both too keyed up to take this slowly.
Impatient to reveal the rigid shape he could feel under Porthos' clothes, Athos helped him undress with indecent haste, until he could fully appreciate the sight of Porthos laced into a whalebone corset.
Porthos had climbed off the bed again, and was standing before Athos giving him a good view. In addition to the corset he was also wearing long stockings fastened with decorative garters around his thighs. It should have looked ridiculous, especially with his cock sticking out of the middle of it all, but Porthos' legs were long and shapely and the corset gave definition to the curve of his body. Athos' mouth went dry with desire, and he thought he'd never seen anything so alluring in his life.
"Do you like it?" Porthos asked, and there was a hesitancy behind his smile that went straight to Athos' heart.
"You look incredible," Athos said immediately, pulling Porthos down into his arms and kissing him hard. Porthos kissed back with obvious relief.
"How does it feel?" asked Athos wonderingly, running his fingers over the rigid stays. "Does it feel good?"
"So good," Porthos agreed in a low voice. "So tight." He ran his hands down the new curves of his own waist, and then between his legs, where his cock was aching for attention. "I am so turned on right now I think I might burst."
"I've been hard for you all day," Athos whispered, kissing him again. "It's been sweet hell."
Porthos started undressing Athos now with impatient fingers, but after the first couple of layers had been discarded he paused. His fingers stroked curiously over the soft material he'd exposed beneath Athos' shirt.
"What are you wearing?" he asked, as Athos' mouth curved up in a smile. "Is that silk?"
"Yes." Athos stretched out like a lazy cat, letting Porthos draw off the rest of his outer clothing. The undergarment proved to be a chemise of pale grey-green silk that clung round his chest and hips before falling in folds around the tops of his thighs.
The swell of his erection was obvious, but not as much as Porthos would have expected, and he explored beneath the delicate cloth with rising excitement.
Instead of his normal braies, Athos was clad in lace and ribbon that left absolutely nothing to the imagination but was somehow a hundred times more erotic than if he'd simply been naked underneath.
"Oh Athos." Porthos' voice was hoarse with lust and approval, and Athos relaxed a fraction.
"You didn't say," Porthos accused him, and Athos' smile widened.
"Some of us can keep a surprise a surprise," he murmured.
By now Porthos was on his knees on the bed, mouthing along the line of Athos' erection, breath warm through the lace. Athos groaned and writhed, Porthos teasing him unmercifully with lips and tongue.
"Enough," gasped Athos after a while. "I need more." He sat up, fondling Porthos' cock with a possessive affection. "Fuck me?"
When Porthos was slick and ready he sat on the edge of the bed and held out his arms. As Athos straddled his legs, Porthos pushed up the hem of the chemise, wincing as his rough fingers caught in the fine material.
"I'm afraid of spoiling it," he confessed.
Athos leaned down and kissed him deeply. "Then I'll get another. Don't hold back Porthos. Ruin it if you want. Ruin me." He smiled, and Porthos drove his hands into the ties of Athos' lace, pulling it down until his cock sprang free.
Athos lowered himself onto Porthos' cock with a moan of satisfaction, loving the ache and stretch of it. Braced with one foot on the floor and the other knee on the bed he started moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
With Porthos' arms supporting him, his fingers crushed into the silk, Athos was free to explore his body in return. He traced the shape of the corset with curious and appreciative hands, dipping his tongue into the damp space between the top and Porthos' chest. His own cock was rubbing against the padded lines of the corset with every movement of his body, and it felt like transgressive heaven.
They were getting into it, skin glistening with sweat, Porthos thrusting up into Athos' body with a fierce enthusiasm, when the door was unexpectedly thrust open and Aramis walked in on them.
"Athos, do you know where - oh good Lord." Aramis was halfway into the room before properly processing the sight before him, of Porthos clad in garters and corset with Athos bouncing unashamedly on his cock wearing ladies' underthings.
"Bloody hell Aramis!" bellowed Porthos.
"Have you ever considered knocking?" Athos added in a drawl, still drawing himself unconcernedly up and down.
Aramis pointed a rather shaky finger at them. "You two need Jesus," he declared, backing out of the door again and slamming it behind him.
Athos and Porthos looked at each other and them dissolved into helpless laughter.
"His face," Porthos hiccupped.
"He'll never speak to us again," Athos agreed, knowing full well Aramis would do nothing of the sort. "We'll be outcasts. Pariahs."
There was a pause while they considered the unfortunate interruption, without missing a beat in the more serious business of fucking each other to a standstill.
"So how long before he asks to borrow the corset?" Porthos asked finally.
"I give it a week."
They laughed again, breathless now and close to completion. Athos' hands were clasped loosely behind Porthos' neck, and Porthos' arms were firm round his waist, supporting him as Athos fucked himself vigorously.
Athos' cock was straining up from under the silk and Porthos freed a hand to help finish him off with quick jerks of his wrist. Athos came with a quiet moan of satisfaction, long strings of semen spurting up his stomach and soaking darkly into the chemise.
Porthos wasn't far behind him, sensations heightened by the breathless state the corset left him in. At the sight of the lewd wet stains on the silk he finally lost control, filling Athos in a rush of thick hot come.
They collapsed to the bed together, kissing and cleaving to each other in the fading glow.
Eventually Porthos groaned and struggled into a sitting position. "Help me off with this thing?" he begged. "I ain't sleeping in it. Not even for you."
Athos helped Porthos escape from the corset and he flung it over the foot of the bed with a grunt of relief, rubbing his stomach. Athos bent over and kissed him there, smiling against the warm skin.
"Can I ask you a question?" Athos asked once they were settled again, thinking about how it had taken two of them to get Porthos out of it.
"How did you get it on in the first place?"
Porthos looked shifty. "Got d'Artagnan to lace me in."
"D'Artagnan?" Athos looked amused. "Did he ask why you were wearing it?"
"No. I was going to tell him it was for my back, but he didn't want to know. In fact he specifically ordered me not to tell him. Several times." Porthos grinned. "My turn. Can I ask you something?"
"Those things. They fit amazingly. Like they were made for you, in fact." Porthos eyed him. "Where did you get them?"
It was Athos' turn to look cagey. "Constance owed me a favour," he said.
"Constance made them? Does she know you're wearing them?" Porthos asked.
Athos nodded, and he cackled. "Bloody hell. If she tells d'Artagnan and he puts two and two together with the corset..." He grinned. "Poor boy'll have nightmares."
"Not as many as Aramis is having right now," Athos murmured, and Porthos laughed loudly.
He rolled over and kissed Athos softly on the lips. "I love you," he murmured.
Athos traced the line of Porthos' beard with his fingertip. "I love you too." He smiled. "You're a filthy degenerate and I adore you."
Porthos laughed. "You say the sweetest things."