Work Header

On The Edge

Work Text:

The sunset came swiftly upon the three riders who wandered slowly through the forest of Vincennes. Two of the riders were resting in their saddles, while the third seemed alert enough to watch the the castle which could be seen a quarter of a mile away. Behind them, tied to the vigilant rider's seat, two fully harnessed horses followed his steps with obedient calm

So far, the flight was being carried out according to plan.

As the hour approached, the three riders were silent and preparing themselves to deliver the coup, as men who had been made in action, but for the attentive observer the small details revealed a hint of concern. The eldest of them kept twisting his mustache, while the youngest fidgeted had a cute mother pearl rosary in his white, aristocratic hand. It was admirable, the courage of these three men, who were betting their careers, and perhaps their lives, on that flight.

The eldest, a man whose hair had gained a few gray hairs, pointed to a stable and his companions nodded. They had agreed beforehand that he would make a round to ensure that no unexpected obstacles were in their way, while his companions took care of the mounts. The rider bade them farewell with a friendly gesture and not long after he had disappeared in the trees. Both men led the four horses into the building to prevent any passersby from asking what two two gentlemen needed with four horses.

Inside, the two men tied the horses with an air of having great knowledge of such chores and then one of them took guard on a windowsill where he could still see the fortress of Vincennes. His companion lit a lamp and took a bottle of oil to feed it from the bags. The aroma of almond oil flooded the place, but that did not make the watcher leave his post.

“Are you worried about Grimaud?” That question had an evident tone of annoyance.

“I worry about the release of M. de Beaufort, Aramis,” The answer was succinct.

“Athos, if looking at the walls was to release the prince,” Aramis replied while putting the bottle of oil in the windowsill and removing his gloves, “he would have been freed long ago.”

“Twenty years is a long time...”

“If I knew your would yield to pressure, I would have called Porthos.”

“He would have been more expensive,” Athos said, the tone of his voice betrayed that his pride had been wounded.

“Fortunately, I know how to return you to your senses...” Aramis suggested supporting his weight on Athos’ back and putting his elegant hand on his friend’s crotch.

“Aramis... Rochefort will soon return and we need to concentrate on the task at hand,” he protested trying to fight the hand that pulled the strings in his waistband. “I seriously doubt this is the best time to wallow like cats in heat.”

“Never had been a better time. Sometimes I miss the times when you spent your waking time drunk,” Aramis said, putting both hands into Athos’ breeches and getting indifference from his friend, who returned his gaze to the walls of Vincennes. “Then you know how to have fun...”

“At that time, Raoul didn’t exist.”

“Will you ever stop to torment my ears with your precious Raoul?” he asked, picking up the bottle of lamp oil and fighting against the cork that closed it.

“If God allows me, never,” Athos tried to retrieve his fallen breeches but Aramis’ hand pushed him forward.

“Stay where you are!” Aramis ordered, making sure his friend was properly bent over. “You need this more than me, and God as my witness you are going to have it.”

“What I need now is to be screwed?” The question ended with a soft moan when oil drops spilled between his buttocks, causing a delicious shiver.

“You are already screwed, my friend,” Aramis said, working the oil around the wrinkled entrance, “Twenty years is a long time, but I still remember how to exorcise your doubts...”

“There was never any doubt. You asked, I heed you,” Athos answered and one could read in his face that he liked the treatment he was receiving. “Stop beating around the bush and stick it!”

“I thought this was no time to wallow...”

“If Rochefort find us like this...”

Aramis waited not to hear the end the threat; he heed the request and, while with one hand pushed his hardness into his friend’s rear entrance, the other made sure that the hat was not a hindrance in his view. Athos moaned and did his best to accommodate that hard cock that always pained him with such pleasure. His hands clung to the sill and his hips rose to welcome the invader that felt as though it distended his very entrails.


Aramis had to admit that Athos seemed to enjoy buggery too much for someone who had protested as fiercely as he did. Aramis left one hand on the well disposed hip of his friend while with the other took a healthy tuft of hair and used it to attract Athos’ head back toward his mouth.

“It seems that Vincennes is out of your mind completely,” Aramis taunted, his erection pushing into that firm and willing flesh.

“No, but it has been placed in its proper place,” said Athos moving to receive the following thrust.

“What was it that you're so worried about?”

“If the evasion fails...” Athos panted, shivering when Aramis touched that special place within his body. “I would ruin Raoul’s future... for you...”

Aramis could not resist the heat brought by Athos’ confession. His mouth took Athos' mouth to prevent him talking of those things that later could bring regrets. His hand, for added security, got into the folds of Athos’ shirt to stroke the erection that stretched beautifully to fill his hand. Aramis’ mouth kissed Athos as if he missed him, but his dick fucked Athos’ body as though he hated him, and Athos moaned, responding to both pleasure and pain.

The satisfaction came too soon, Athos shuddered before pouring himself into Aramis’ hand. Oddly, this culmination failed to quell the thirst accumulated by all these years of separation and, if not for the coup to be executed in minutes, the former Musketeer would have asked for a second helping.

Soon, both were fitted again in their clothes. How odd! Though they were so confident on the other, it was still difficult to see each other in the eye after the end of act.

“Do you know?” Aramis asked as he returned Athos’ hat to him. “Not failing the coup solves everything.”

Athos was about to say something, but Rochefort’s whistle in the distance signaled them to take out the horses from the stable.

The time had come.