A Different Bond (BBC The Musketeers)

A Different Bond

An annoying, constant shaking of Athos' shoulder brings him out from his unconscious state as muffled noisy bouts of conversation and laughter start filtering into his wine-addled mind.

He doesn't move, remaining as still as he had been before being pulled from the dark, showing no signs of his awakening in hopes the person roiling him will go away. To no avail, the disturbance stays perpetual.

Lethargy sweeps through his bent body, covering every inch possible therefore giving him no strength to shoo away the individual. A pounding headache rebounds itself in the interiors of his head, destroying any sense of focus to function properly. The incessant shaking increases the throbbing pain as the pressing of his forehead against a rough, hard surface causes his head to rock side to side. He lets out a small groan, vexed with the adamant hand of the owner to pester him. Once his mind starts to come around, it isn't till now that he registers the bothersome person has been whispering to him by his ear.

"Athos. Wake up," comes a gruff voice. The shaking stops and is instead replaced with gentle taps to his cheek.

"Come on. Don't make me drag you back," the voice presses on, the taps getting harder as he doesn't respond.

Athos wants to stay where he lies as his energy level is well below the amount needed to move anywhere, barely even being able to lift his head yet alone his body. The tapping against his cheek continues and Athos frustratingly turns his head to the side - with great effort - to get a glance of who this irritating torturer is.

His narrow gaze meets upon a large face. He squints with immense concentration to determine the person through their facial features. A large black beard surrounds the lower half of the man's dark-skinned face and short, black, curly hair can be seen from the corner of Athos' vision.

Porthos.

" 'here we are," he greets him with a large grin. "Time to head home."

Athos tries to protest, but realises none of his words are coming out coherently when a muddled noise leaves his lips instead.

Two hands gently cradle his head and lifts it up, moving his whole body along as well until he is sitting upright against the wall. He groans and his head immediately droops onto Porthos' shoulder as he has no strength to keep it up. Another tap hits his cheek while his brother coaxes him to get up. Athos moans weakly in objection and a sigh comes from Porthos for his uncooperative behaviour in making any attempt to move.

An arm tucks itself underneath the crook of his knees as the other wraps around his chest from the back and suddenly he is hauled up and away from his seat. His stomach shoots up as his body bounces up and down slightly with Porthos' pace.

"P'rr...thh...oo..sss," he drawls before swallowing down hard to prevent the churning contents in his stomach from lurching out.

He can feel eyes staring at them from the way Porthos carries him - in a bridal style manner - across the tavern. Snickers and laughter are heard amongst the revelers who are immensely entertained by the way the drunk patron is being taken away. Some even tease by whistling and shouting words of congratulations, claiming them as a newlywed couple.

Athos averts his head from Porthos as his face turns flush from the men's words at the implication of marriage between them.

"Pppuu't... meee.. d'wnn," Athos manages once they exit the tavern.

Porthos snorts and holds him tighter before making his way back to the Garrison. "I ain't put'in' you down till we reach your bed."

Athos grumbles at his denied request and tries to squirm his arm out, which is crammed between himself and Porthos' body. Porthos clicks his tongue and tuts at him before re-adjusting his hold on Athos.