Chapter Text
"Bye, guys!" called Face as he stood in the doorway of the Team's apartment in Paris. He waved at Murdock as the Captain blew kisses at him before heading down the stairwell. Hannibal shook his head as he followed him. BA turned briefly to look at Face and winked before heading towards the stairwell as well. Behind Face, he could hear faint sounds of movement. He smiled as the faint whiff of Aram's favourite candles drifted over. He carefully closed the door and locked it before turning around and leaning against it.
Aram was bustling around the living room, lighting candle, dimming lights, and arranging cushions on the sofa. Finally, he stopped and with hands on his hips, he surveyed the room.
Face, smiling with fond amusement, said, "Everything to your satisfaction?"
Frowning, Aram responded, "No. Something is missing."
Raising one eyebrow, Face said, "Oh? What's that?"
With a devastating smile, Aram said, “you,” and strode over to Face, grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards the sofa.
Sinking down together, they immediately started kissing. Face lost track of time as Aram stroked his face and pulled him closer. Face started to ease the back of Aram's shirt up, desperate to feel skin. Then, the phone began to ring.
“Leave it for the answer machine," whispered Aram into Face's ear before sucking on his ear lobe.
Face groaned and tilted his head to give Aram better access. Thoughts of phone calls were far, far away from his mind right then. He dove his hands under his lover’s shirt and stroked across the muscles of his back feeling them move under the skin. He marveled again at how much he enjoyed the feeling of strength and power. Aram was a gentle and thoughtful lover, but there was no denying that if he wanted to be less so, he could. From time to time, Face found himself wondering what it would be like to let him. And tonight, that thought gave him delicious shivers.
"Uh, hello, Treville, here, I'm calling to see if any of you have heard from Athos tonight. He had some unfortunate news and now he has disappeared...," came Aram's father's voice through the answer machine speaker.
Aram had stiffened the moment Treville began speaking. He pulled back and then rested his forehead against Face's.
"Dearest, I need..." he began.
Face pushed him gently towards the phone, "Of course, go, go!"
Aram leapt up and grabbed the phone handset out of its cradle.
"Papa, it’s Aramis. What happened?"
As Aram talked to his father, Face stood up and ambled towards his bedroom in the three bedroom unit that the Team was renting in Paris. They had tried to find four bedrooms, but it had been impossible. So, when Aram was staying over, Murdock bunked with either BA or Hannibal depending on who could tolerate him that night. When Aram wasn't there, Murdock preferred to share with Face. As a result, Murdock's belongings tended to be scattered around all the bedrooms. Face took his jacket off and hung it up before picking up and folding various items of Murdock's clothing and placing them on top of a dresser next to a wardrobe by the door. He had just picked up the last item when he heard the click of the phone handset connecting with the phone base. He hastily folded it and placed it on the pile on the dresser before heading back into the living room.
"Everything alright?" he queried.
Aram rubbed the back of his head and squinched his face. Then, he heaved a big sigh and gave Face a rueful half-smile.
"Athos does this sometimes. He holds things in so tight and controlled for most of the time, but then once in a while he loses control completely and goes on a bender. Porthos is with him so he'll be fine. Papa just needed me to tell him that."
Face nodded in sympathy. Having to regularly deal with Murdock, he understood the complexities of dealing with someone who was off balance. He reached out and rubbed his love's upper arm. Aram stepped into his arms and embraced him, resting his head on Face's shoulder. Not at all surprised and knowing Aram's desire for physical contact, Face folded him into his arms. After a minute, Aram raised his head and began kissing Face, again. Face had enough presence of mind to manoeuvre them both towards the sofa where they resumed their make out session.
They had progressed to the point of hands roaming bodies under clothing when there was a thunderous banging on the front door, Startled, they sprang apart and dropped into defensive stances. Aram had his knife in his hand, and Face had grabbed a glass.
"Aramis!" Porthos' voice came through the door, "Aramis, are you there? Open up! We need your help!"
Aram and Face looked at each other. Then, they sprang to their feet and raced to the door. They opened it to find Porthos propping up Athos against the wall with a hand against his chest. Both men looked rough. Porthos had a ripped collar on his shirt and blood on the hand holding up Athos. Athos, himself, had blood streaming from his nose and one eye was swelling closed. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his head uр. Face, alarmed, immediately rushed to help Porthos with Athos. As he put one of the swaying man's arms around his shoulders, Athos blearily turned his head and Face was nearly overwhelmed by the blast of alcohol as Athos breathed out. Beside him, he could hear Aram make an irritated clicking noise in his throat.
"Athos!” Aram started scolding and then stopped, sighing, "come inside."
All four made their way inside, where Face carefully deposited the obviously very drunk man on the sofa. He started to peel off the man's leather jacket knowing that Aram would want to do a full check on his brother. To his surprise, Athos docilely let him, muttering nonsense although the name Thomas had come up several times. Porthos went the kitchen for a basin and water while Aram fetched his medic bag from a hook by the front door. They all converged on the sofa where Face had Athos stripped down to his singlet and trousers.
"What happened, Porthos?" asked Aram as he gently pushed Face to one side and started to inspect Athos.
"He got a letter from, ... you know who... and instead of burning it unopened, the idiot read it. Of course, that set him off on a bender. He seemed to be okay drinking himself into oblivion, but another drunk got in his face and things got a bit nasty. Since he was bleeding like a stuck pig, I thought you should take a look at him. I called home but Papa said that you were here."
Then suddenly noticing the candles and the disheveled clothing of Aram and Face, he smacked his forehead, "Oh man, you had a date and we interrupted you! I'm so sorry! I should have realized!"
He stepped forward and went to grab Athos’ arm, saying, "C'mon, Athos, let's go find a clinic."
Aram shoved him back, "Don't be ridiculous! You aren't going anywhere. Athos could have a concussion. Sit down, you great lump."
Athos uttered a tiny whimper and then a belch. Porthos, with a move that he had obviously done many times before, pushed Athos forward while at the same time placing the basin under his chin in time to save the floor from Athos' vomit.
Face sighed inwardly. So much for their romantic evening alone together.
***
Much later, Athos was tucked up on the couch under the watchful eye of Porthos. Despite appearances, neither were very much injured from their fracas in the bar. Aram still insisted that they stay the night just to be sure. Besides, it was clear that Athos was not in any shape to be going anywhere until he had sobered up.
Face, meanwhile, had taken some of the candles as well as the chocolate-covered strawberries into his room where he attempted to revive the romantic atmosphere of earlier. Apparently he was successful because when Aram returned from settling in his brothers, he looked around in delight and immediately started to prowl towards Face with clear intent. Face licked his lips in a deliberately provocative way. Then, he quietly whispered the first two lines of a poem he had been memorizing. Aram swiftly closed the gap between them, grabbed Face’s head with both hands and kissed him deeply. Together they edged towards the bed, only pausing long enough for Face to pull Aram's t-shirt off and Aram to unbutton Face’s shirt.
At the last moment, Aram twisted and then flipped Face so that he landed flat on his back, laughing. Adopting the prowl once more, Aram climbed onto the bed and straddled Face in such a way that there could be no doubts at all about how the evening would progress. Face growled back before unbuckling Aram's belt and then unbuttoning his jeans. Before he got to the fly, Aram grabbed his hands and placed them either side of Face's head.
"Not quite yet, mon amour," he said and then began nibbling along his lover’s collarbone.
Face groaned, but as quietly as he could. Aram chuckled causing his beard to brush against his lover's sensitive nipple. Face shivered and stroked Aram’s back, not quite pulling him closer, but definitely encouraging more contact. Aram obliged by kissing along the span of his collarbone. Face was so caught up in their own amorous bubble that he barely registered the sound of footsteps approaching before the door burst open and a figure filled the doorway and entered the room.
Aram, silently and swiftly, twisted off Face and leapt towards the intruder, pulling his knife out of its sheath in one smooth motion.