[ D'Artagnan laughs at that, a soft and open sound that's muffled because his mouth is still pressed against Athos' skin. Amused, he lifts his head. He's barely aware of where they're lying, concentrating as he is on the sight of the face in front of him. ]

Yes. Definitely a roof, and if we're lucky perhaps a bed.

[ He sighs. This feels like a dream, too good to be real. Unbidden, he remembers Constance's words as she'd ended things with them for good. 'It was a beautiful dream, d'Artagnan'. He doesn't want this to be another dream.

He'll do everything he can to keep it real. To keep this warmth between them.

And speaking of that. ]

Do you want to move? Because you'll have to convince me. Your arms make a comfortable resting place.