cataree asked:

comehitherashes said: Ah, how often have I swiftly smacked my fingers over my monitor button, or tabbed to another page, or laughed loudly and awkwardly and therefore looked TOTALLY GUILTY. Too many times! ;) ** Now: Think about your words & imagine me this morning. On the train. Full off grumpy commuters and strung out business guys. While I was reading Lovers' Creed. It was soooo wonderful <3 bloodthirsty kitten!Aramis, I fell in love all over again. I'm all bouncy with glee, so thank you!

Ahaha, I’m sorry/not sorry! Thank you, messages like this always make my day! Hm, perhaps imagine Athos as one of those grumpy commuters, and Porthos as a strung out business guy, and one of them nudges the other by mistake, and (because I’m in a fluffy mood) their eyes meet. It’s strange, Athos can’t seem to look away, even though he knows he should - there are rules on public transport, for god’s sake. But there’s something about the man that’s sprawled over the chair opposite him, legs akimbo as if he owns the place, and that lusciously slow tilt at one corner of his lips does strange things to Athos’ heart rate.

"It costs a fiver for a picture."

Athos blinks at the sleep-roughness of the man’s voice (Athos knew he had been sleeping - not that he’d been watching or anything, or been remotely soothed by the man’s deep, steady breathing), and then suddenly the smile and the crinkling eyes filter through Athos’ supposedly impenetrable travelling-wall.

Oh, merde, had he been staring the whole time?

It’s not a blush that creeps onto his cheeks, but there might have been a sharp little inhale, a slight widening of eyes as he turns away, suddenly taking some very serious interest in the landscape outside.

"I’m kiddin’, look all you want, certainly perked me right up."

Athos’ gaze darts back, just for a second, just to ascertain whether it was him being talked to.

He immediately regrets it when he’s snared by those soil-after-rain eyes, and Athos almost thinks he can smell that comforting muskiness of an autumnal morning, crunchy leaves and damp earth.

"You’re doin’ it again, just so y’know."

Athos clears his throat, and this time (did that grin know no bounds?) he let his own mouth curve, just a little.

"So are you," he says finally, but the man doesn’t look away sheepishly, no, he shrugs broad shoulders and relaxes further into his chair.

"View’s worth lookin’ at."

Athos’ laugh is a surprised, quite thing, and he pretends not to notice the foot inching closer to Athos’ own, definitely doesn’t blink when the man tilts his head back until he’s looking at Athos under lowered lids.

"Yes," Athos agreed, mouth dry, "it is."

Those loose muscles tensed, and Athos finds himself leaning forwards when a hot hand lands on his knee with a thumb running up his leg.

"It’s a tenner for the whole shebang."

Athos rolls his eyes and then the seat next to him fills with a warm weight and that boundless grin, and Athos’ pleased little smile isn’t quite hidden by the duck of his head. A very good view, indeed.