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Fic - The Captain's Table (The Musketeers)

Title: The Captain's Table
Pairings: Athos/Porthos
Rating: NC17
Wordcount: 2,985
Summary: Written for evilmaniclaugh's prompt of "Porthos really gets off on the idea of being dominated by his new captain."
AN: Set immediately after S02E10

--

It had been a long, strange day this one, that had started with a wedding and ended with a war, and it was well past midnight when Athos finally allowed himself to stumble back to his room. Even then he sensed sleep would evade him, so he just stripped down to his breeches and shirtsleeves and poured himself a much needed drink.

He'd taken a single step towards the chair when there was a quiet knock on the door and he groaned, wondering if this was to be his life now, with no peace to be found at any minute of the day. But he went to open it anyway and was relieved to find that after all, it was only Porthos.

"Evening." Porthos grinned at him and pushed his way inside, pouring himself a drink without waiting to be asked. "How's life as our Captain so far then?"

"Exhausting." Athos gave him a tired smile, grateful beyond words that Porthos had clearly come to see how he was bearing up, and grateful too, that he didn't have to say it.

"Want me to tell you where you're going wrong yet?" Porthos asked helpfully, and Athos gave him mournful eyes.

"Already?" he asked indignantly and Porthos laughed, clapping him on the back.

"You're trying to do everything yourself," he pointed out. "Treville didn't wear himself out checking every last buckle did he? He made us do all the running, and trusted us to get it right."

"I do trust you!" Athos protested.

"I know you do. I didn't mean it like that," Porthos said quietly, holding up a hand in apology.

"I'm sorry." Athos sagged a little. "You're right. I didn't ask for this responsibility, but now I seem to have it, I just don't want to let anyone down."

"You won't," Porthos said softly. "And we won't let you down, either. I promise." He slung an arm around Athos' shoulders and drew him in until he could wrap his arms all the way around him.

Athos surrendered with a small sigh and leaned in against Porthos' chest, clasping his own arms around Porthos' waist. For a minute or so they just stood like that in silence, holding each other close.

"This won't change things, will it?" Porthos ventured after a while. "Between us, I mean?"

Athos looked up. "No. I won't let it. I swear," he said, and Porthos relaxed a little. It had been a niggling worry at the back of his head all afternoon and evening, that with Athos made Captain he might feel it was wrong to pursue a relationship with one of the men under his command. More wrong than it was already, anyway.

"You're the only thing that keeps me sane," Athos whispered, brushing his fingertips across Porthos' cheek. "How could I ever give you up?"

Porthos' tentative smile broke into a grin, and he kissed Athos fondly on the mouth. Athos returned the pressure of his lips and deepened the kiss, until they were both locked in an increasingly passionate embrace.

When they broke off Athos looked triumphant and Porthos looked happily dazed.

"I thought you were tired," he laughed, and Athos had the grace to look embarrassed.

"You seem to be waking me up," he retorted, belatedly going to lock the door. "In all kinds of places."

Porthos' laugh this time was dirtier and he sat down on Athos' bed and patted his lap. "Come and show me."

"Come and show me, sir," Athos corrected with a wicked smirk, straddling Porthos' lap and pushing deliberately up against his crotch.

Porthos gave a strangled noise of abrupt arousal, and mashed his lips against Athos' mouth in a messy and demanding kiss. "Fuck," he breathed, tucking his hands beneath the seat of Athos' breeches and pulling him snugly forward.

Athos' nimble fingers were busy with the fastenings of Porthos' coat and he soon had it off him, pushing it away and sliding his hands lovingly around Porthos' neck, cupping his jaw and kissing him deeply. The stresses of the day had left Athos tense and fidgety but it was coalescing now into a building arousal and he kissed Porthos breathless.

"Huh." Porthos blinked up at him, smile creeping back onto his lips as soon as Athos finally relinquished his mouth. "Command seems to agree with you."

Athos ducked his head a little, embarrassed by his own needy desire, but Porthos tilted his chin up again to look him in the eyes.

"I like it," Porthos said throatily. "Trust me. I like it a lot." Emboldened by Athos' smile, he continued. "You're my commanding officer now, right? So command me."

"That would be an abuse of my position," Athos whispered back, amused.

Porthos licked his lips. "Abuse it then," he growled. "Abuse me. I like the sound of that. If you've got the balls to do it," he added, raising a challenging eyebrow, and making Athos snort.

"I've got more balls than you could cope with," Athos declared, voice low and intent but still smiling. "I could make you whimper like a baby."

Porthos' eyelids fluttered involuntarily and he groaned, shifting under the warm weight of Athos on his lap. "Fuck, Athos. Do it. Use me. Tell me what you want."

Athos hesitated for a beat, studying him. "Sure?"

"Yeah. God, yes." Porthos gazed at him, big dark eyes full of heat and need.

"Then take off your clothes." Athos, suddenly all clipped and business-like, swung himself off Porthos' lap and stared down at him, hands on hips. "Strip. Now. I want you naked."

Porthos swallowed hard and hauled himself off the bed with some difficulty. He undid the rest of his clothes, fingers made clumsy with desire and all his concentration on the way Athos was walking slowly around him the whole time. Prowling was the word for it, looking Porthos over with a critical eye and a slow dirty smirk.

Soon all Porthos' clothes were in a heap on the stone floor. Athos stopped his circling and gave Porthos a slow up and down evaluation, nodding with satisfaction at what he saw. Porthos was hard and ready, and eager for Athos to move things along.

"Now what?" Porthos prompted, and Athos tutted disapprovingly, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Such impatience. You'll do what I tell you, when I tell you," he instructed, noting with a degree of amusement that Porthos' cock was jerking of its own accord at his tone of voice. "Understand?"

"Yes sir," Porthos said immediately, and Athos bit his lip, maintaining his stern visage with an effort of will. It would be a shame to spoil the illusion so soon.

"Good." Athos unbuckled his own breeches but didn't take them off, just stood there with his cock sticking out from under the folds of his shirt. "Because I'm going to fuck you," Athos said levelly. "I'm going to bend you over that table and give you what you deserve. And you're going to let me."

Porthos nodded vigorously, more than willing to let Athos do whatever he wanted. It wouldn't be the first time Athos had screwed him, but normally they were in bed together and more often than not at least half drunk. This was entirely different, and Porthos couldn't remember the last time he'd been this turned on.

Now, Athos guided Porthos across to the wooden table, sweeping the assorted detritus of papers, cups and an empty wine bottle off the surface with one wild motion of his arm. With his other hand Athos pushed down between Porthos' shoulderblades, giving the appearance of violence but without actually hurting him. Porthos got the message, bending obediently forwards over the table and bracing himself on his forearms. The table creaked a bit, and one of the feet skidded an inch into a crack between two of the floor slabs, but to Porthos' relief it held his weight.

Athos thrust a knee between Porthos' thighs from behind, forcing his legs further apart. The feeling of Athos' leather-clad leg against his own bare skin made Porthos catch his breath and stifle a moan. He was so ready for this, his cock aching for attention, rigid against his stomach. The hard edge of the table was digging into his thighs but now Athos' hands were on him and all other thoughts went out of Porthos' head.

There was a small bottle of oil they kept by for just such occasions, normally secreted somewhere under the bed. Porthos hadn't noticed Athos pick it up but he must have, because suddenly without warning there were slick fingers pressed against his hole. He braced himself, prepared for Athos to be rough, but the pressure stayed gentle as Athos first toyed with him, rubbing a fingertip around and over his entrance, teasing and soothing.

"Look at you," Athos murmured, squeezing one of Porthos' buttocks firmly. "All spread out for me, my good little soldier. Standing to attention are we?" His hand snaked round and grasped Porthos' cock, giving that a squeeze too. Porthos sucked in a breath, and as the wave of fresh arousal washed over him he felt Athos slide a finger inside him.

"Maybe I should make you stand on parade like this," Athos mused, still stroking Porthos inside and out. "All naked and defenceless. What do you think?"

It took Porthos a second to find his voice. "You think I'm defenceless?" he countered. Athos' reply was to insert a second finger, and Porthos reverted to incoherency, pushing back greedily and trying to fuck himself on Athos' hand.

Athos let go his grip on Porthos' cock and gave him a stinging slap on the arse instead. "Behave. You'll take what you're given and nothing more. Oh, and you don't get to come until I say so."

Porthos muttered something inaudible and Athos removed his fingers as well. "I didn't catch that?"

"I said, yes sir," Porthos lied and Athos smiled, knowing he was safe and Porthos couldn't see him. He dribbled more oil over his fingers and laid his free hand on the small of Porthos' back, both silently reassuring and letting him know he was about to be breached again.

This time Athos worked three fingers inside him, fucking him open with plenty more of the oil to hand. He intended that what was to come would be far from gentle, and wanted Porthos to be as ready as possible.

Mostly, Porthos was getting impatient. "Are you going to take me or not?" he demanded after a while. "The war'll be over before I've had the chance to come all over your beastly table at this rate."

Athos shook his head despairingly. "You were never this lippy with Treville."

"Treville never wanted to put his prick inside me," Porthos pointed out, and Athos stifled a laugh.

"I'm very glad to hear it." Athos pressed the oiled head of his cock between Porthos' cheeks and rubbed across his hole. "But there's been a change of regime. I'm your Captain now, and I can do as I like with you."

He lined up and pushed in without warning, and whatever retort Porthos had been about to come out with was lost in a surprised moan as he scrabbled for purchase on the table. Athos fucked into him with determined thrusts, his hands clamped tight on Porthos' hips.

"There's been a deplorable lack of discipline around here," Athos said, trying to keep his tone dry and detached, but there was a definite tightness to his voice as he buried himself deep in Porthos' body. "I'd say you need teaching a lesson."

"Will you be seeing to the other lads like this?" Porthos asked cheekily.

"See if my measures are effective on you first, shall we?" Athos shot back. "You don't seem capable of keeping your mouth shut yet. Maybe I should put something in it for you. Make you spend a while on your knees, show some penitence."

Porthos gripped the far edge of the table with his fingers, panting hard now as Athos slammed into him over and over. The thought of Athos standing over him, forcing his cock between his lips and down his throat made Porthos shiver with desire, and he had to make a hasty grab for his cock to stop himself coming there and then.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Athos reproved him, and Porthos let go again with a groan, sucking in huge ragged breaths instead to stay under control.

Athos could feel Porthos clenching hard around him and guessed he was close. He pulled all the way out and stepped back, ignoring Porthos' immediate wordless moan of complaint.

"Here. Come here." Athos tugged at his arm and when Porthos turned round, Athos gestured to the bed. "On your back. Knees up."

Porthos did as he was told, grateful for the chance to lie down on something soft. The edge of the table had pressed red lines across the top of both thighs, and his bare feet had been getting cold on the stone floor. He spread himself for Athos quickly and gazed up at him with a hungry and expectant lust.

Athos knelt over him, lowering himself slowly and deliberately. His shirt was hanging open, his breeches and small clothes were pushed down around his thighs and his cock was in his hand, flushed and hard and glistening.

"Athos," Porthos breathed, the name slipping out despite the fact he'd been told to stay quiet. Athos gave him a feral grin in reply, and slipped his hands under Porthos' knees, lifting them up and pushing him into the pillows as he shunted carefully back inside him.

Porthos gave a heartfelt groan of pleasure and relief as he was once more filled and fucked, rocking under the force of Athos' thrusts. "My Captain," he whispered, reaching up to him, and now Athos let himself fall into Porthos' arms, kissing him hard and desperately as they clung together, on the last aching, shuddering fall towards climax.

Porthos was the first to come, utterly forgetting that he'd been told not to. Athos didn't say a word, just held him tightly as Porthos roared out his orgasm, painting Athos' chest with his release in long thick stripes. It was the hardest he'd come in months, and for some moments afterwards Porthos found he was shaking from the sheer force of it, blurry with exhausted satisfaction and face buried in Athos' neck.

Eventually he realised that Athos was still waiting to come, was waiting, in fact, for him to recover sufficiently before continuing, and kissed him gratefully on the lips. "Come for me," Porthos whispered, and Athos smiled.

"That was supposed to be my line," he drawled, but he took Porthos at his word and started thrusting into him again in search of his own climax. It didn't take long, had taken a lot of control not to let go already, and soon Porthos felt him start to come, wrapping his arms and legs around Athos to pin him closer and loving the sensations of Athos spilling hotly inside him, leaving him feeling full and wet and owned.

Afterwards they sprawled in a crumpled heap together, panting and groaning, still too breathless to kiss. There was a strand of hair lying over Athos' face that was rising and falling with every laboured breath he took, and Porthos eventually summoned the energy to lift a hand and tuck it back behind his ear.

"Thank you," Athos mumbled, and Porthos nuzzled a kiss onto his cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have come until you told me. I forgot."

"That's alright," Athos promised him, sleepy now, and content. "It was about what turned you on, not about following orders to the letter." He sat up long enough to wriggle right out of his breeches and peel off his shirt, using the latter to wipe the traces of Porthos' orgasm off his chest before lying down again beside him.

They settled into each other's arms, pulling the blanket over them for warmth and kissing for a long time.

"I must say, I like your brand of discipline," Porthos murmured after a while.

Athos gave a quiet laugh. "I don't think I should try it on anyone else, do you?"

"No." Porthos hugged him possessively and then pinched his bottom. "You're mine. All mine." He gave a quiet sigh. There had been a moment, earlier that day - Athos had left the garrison, told Porthos he was going to make his peace with Milady, say goodbye. There'd been a cold little worm in Porthos' heart that had been afraid Athos wouldn't return, and the hour until he'd ridden back into view had been one of the longest of Porthos' life.

"I am. All yours," Athos agreed, and kissed him softly. "I love you," he added in a whisper, as if not quite sure it would be welcomed. Porthos stared at him, and he felt a hot blush rising in his cheeks but held Porthos' gaze. "Tomorrow we ride to war," he said quietly. "Who knows what will happen. I just - I wanted to say it. I wanted you to know."

"Athos - " Porthos kissed him then, almost hit him in the nose in his haste, kissing him fiercely on the mouth, then peppering kisses all over his face. "I love you too," he managed finally, belatedly realising he hadn't actually said it back yet.

"You do?" Athos was smiling from the onslaught of his lips, but the hope in his eyes was so tentative that it made Porthos' heart hurt.

"I do. I love you Athos. I - I probably always have," Porthos admitted.

"Then whatever happens after this, I am happy," Athos said gravely.

Porthos' solemn expression dissolved into a broad smile.

"If you want a word of advice, maybe pick a more rousing battle cry tomorrow?"

--
Tags: fic, the musketeers
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