Fic, A Dangerous Day, Athos/Treville, 18
Apr. 9th, 2014 09:38 pmTitle : A Dangerous Day
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : The Musketeers
Rating : 18
Characters : Athos/Treville
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : For Episode 1.4
Summary : In which no one is angry any more but Treville needs comfort and Athos wants to make sure he gets what he needs.
A/N : This story takes place later the same day as A Dangerous Liaison.
“I don’t want your pity.”
Treville’s tone held a note of finality that his men had learnt to disregard at their peril but it wasn’t the first time Athos had driven a horse and cart through the command structure in the garrison and it no doubt wouldn’t be the last.
He leaned against the wall, folded his arms and surveyed his captain’s rigid back as Treville stood with his hands on his desk, staring blindly as the neatly-ordered stacks of paperwork by which he set such store.
“That’s fortunate, because I’m not offering any.”
Treville turned to face him, deep lines furrowing his forehead. “Get out, Athos, I don’t want to talk, either. Aramis needs you more than I do.”
“Porthos is with him. He can do more for Aramis than I can. As you well know, I’m a melancholy drunkard, which is not what Aramis needs tonight.” Athos pushed himself away from the walk and walked over to the cupboard where Treville kept his good brandy.
He poured a large measure into a glass and placed it on the desk next to Treville’s right hand. “You’re a soldier. You followed your orders. As you’ve told me more times than I care to remember, we don’t have the luxury of choosing which orders we obey. So drink to the memory of twenty good men. You did what you had to do. There is nothing to be gained now by self-flagellation.”
Treville turned to face him with a speed that had not diminished over the years Athos had known him. The captain prided himself on remaining as fit and hard as the men under his command. For a moment, Athos expected a fist to smash into his face, but he stood his ground and met Treville’s eyes. Instead of anger all he saw was a hopelessness of a kind that he had never thought to associate with the man who commanded a regiment of unruly musketeers with the ease of a schoolmaster presiding over charges that stood no higher than a desk.
Athos drew in a slow breath, picked up the glass and held it out. “Drink or I’ll remind you of all the times you have deployed similar tactics on me. Starting with this afternoon.”
“That’s a recitation that would take us well into the night watch.”
A note of resignation had crept into the rough voice and when Treville took the glass from Athos’ fingers and did as he’d been bidden, Athos counted it as a minor victory. Without waiting for permission, he poured another glass of spirit for himself.
“I’ll replenish your stores in the morning.” Athos took a small mouthful of Treville’s best brandy, a far cry from the noxious distillation the captain had plied him with earlier in the day after his loss of control with the Duke of Savoy.
“You’ll have to, or I’ll take it out of your pay.” Treville picked up the bottle and his glass and stalked through to his sleeping quarters.
Athos followed, taking the lack of a punch in the face for the invitation it almost certainly was. Subtlety had never played much of a part in their liaisons and had his presence been truly unwelcome, Treville would undoubtedly have ejected him, by force if necessary.
In the privacy of his bedroom, Treville stripped off his leather jacket, draped it carefully over a chair and then sat down on the bed to tug off his boots.
“Let me.” Athos set his glass down on the small table by the bed and went to his knees on the floor. “Your boots have seen better days.”
“Then they are in good company.”
Athos looked up and allowed a small smile to quirk his lips. “Self-pity doesn’t suit you.”
Treville’s answering smile was tired, but the alcohol had at least smoothed some of the lines from his face. “Are you offering me more than just a drinking companion for the night, Athos?”
Athos held Treville’s gaze and allowed his own guard to drop. “I’m offering whatever you care to take.”
The silence stretched between them, taut and as heavily laden as a pack mule. After long moments during which Athos did nothing more that sit back on his heels and look up at the man he was proud to call his commanding officer, Treville stretched out his hand and ran it through Athos’s hair. “I think tonight I would prefer you to be the one to do the taking.”
Athos shook his head. “I won’t fuck you in anger, if that’s what you’re looking for. There’s been too much anger today even for my tastes.”
A gentle finger ran down Athos’ cheek and lightly touched his scarred lip. “Says the man who will brawl with the Red Guards at the slightest excuse.”
“It’s expected of us.” Athos started to undo the fastenings of his jacket. “You know we hate to disappoint.”
The calloused hand slid back into his hair, Treville’s fingers gently kneading the back of his neck. Athos shrugged his jacket off and let it fall to the floor. He loosened the scarf around his neck and dropped that to one side. Treville’s hand slid down to his shoulder and continued the work of loosening the tension in Athos’ corded muscles. A few moments later, insistent hands tugged his shirt over his head. Athos rose up on his knees, quirking an eyebrow in mute enquiry.
In response, Treville leaned forward and kissed him. Unlike earlier in the day, this kiss was hesitant, as though the man still feared being rebuffed. Athos felt the rasp of stubble against his beard and allowed his eyes to fall shut as their mouths worked together and he tasted the tang of brandy on Treville’s tongue. Athos tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Breathing became a secondary consideration. Clothes found their way onto the floor as even Treville’s almost legendary neatness deserted him. The chill of evening had settled on the room. Athos pushed the sheet and blankets back and pulled Treville down onto the bed, his hands moving insistently over the hard muscles of the captain’s body, searching out the sensitive spots and ruthlessly exploiting the knowledge he’d gained during their past encounters.
Treville drew in a sharp breath as Athos nuzzled the side of his neck and then suddenly their positions were reversed as Athos found himself flat on his back on the bed, flipped over like a raw recruit in the training yard. Two strong hands held his head in place as Treville plundered his mouth, his iron control finally starting to slip. They rutted against each other like horny stable lads, taking pleasure in eliciting groans of pleasure, sometimes even whimpers – although both of them would deny that if challenged.
Their cocks were hard between them, pressing against sweat-slick bellies, any pretence at finesse discarded along with their clothes. Athos felt strong hands on his hips, turning him again, this time onto his stomach and he could feel the long line of Treville’s cock against his arse. Athos rubbed himself impatiently against the sheet as Treville leaned over him and fumbled in the drawer of the small table beside the bed. Moments later Athos felt a drip of oil in his crack, pushed into him by blunt, calloused fingers that worked him open with ruthless efficiency.
Athos exhaled slowly, willing himself to relax. Treville pulled him over onto his side, spooning behind him as he pushed the blunt head of his cock against Athos’ hole. Athos pressed back, enjoying the stretch and burn of penetration. Treville’s arms held him close and when he was fully sheathed in Athos’ body he finally began to move. Not the frenetic thrusting that Athos had expected, but a long, slow, almost sensuous slide of hard flesh inside him, drawing back nearly to the tip before pushing back again. At the same time he could feel the stubble on Treville’s jaw rasping against the back of his neck, ragged breathing warm against Athos’ over-heated flesh. It felt good, so good that Athos could finally feel the tension of the day start to leave him as he gave himself up to the pleasure of being fucked by a man he trusted far more than he trusted himself.
Treville slid his hand over the taut skin on Athos’ cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Athos felt a familiar heat pool low in his belly. He was close, so very close. There had been too much emotion in the air that day for either of them to want to defer their release overly long. He pushed back and gasped as Treville’s hips snapped forward to meet him, the slow, steady strokes finally giving way to a more frenetic coupling as both men chased their own climax like a dream of heaven.
A gasp muffled in his hair and strong arms tightening around his waist told Athos all he needed to know. He thrust up into the loose fist of Treville’s fingers, tension finally uncoiling as the slow fuse finally ignited, sending fire dancing along his nerves. They remained together as the after-shocks of release ran their course. Afterwards, Athos twisted lazily in Treville’s arms, pillowing his head on the captain’s shoulder.
Before the night was out, Athos would make his way back to his own rooms and a cold bed, but for now he was content to take what comfort he could at the end of a long and difficult day, hoping that he had also brought some relief to the man he would willing following into hell, should that ever be needed.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : The Musketeers
Rating : 18
Characters : Athos/Treville
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : For Episode 1.4
Summary : In which no one is angry any more but Treville needs comfort and Athos wants to make sure he gets what he needs.
A/N : This story takes place later the same day as A Dangerous Liaison.
“I don’t want your pity.”
Treville’s tone held a note of finality that his men had learnt to disregard at their peril but it wasn’t the first time Athos had driven a horse and cart through the command structure in the garrison and it no doubt wouldn’t be the last.
He leaned against the wall, folded his arms and surveyed his captain’s rigid back as Treville stood with his hands on his desk, staring blindly as the neatly-ordered stacks of paperwork by which he set such store.
“That’s fortunate, because I’m not offering any.”
Treville turned to face him, deep lines furrowing his forehead. “Get out, Athos, I don’t want to talk, either. Aramis needs you more than I do.”
“Porthos is with him. He can do more for Aramis than I can. As you well know, I’m a melancholy drunkard, which is not what Aramis needs tonight.” Athos pushed himself away from the walk and walked over to the cupboard where Treville kept his good brandy.
He poured a large measure into a glass and placed it on the desk next to Treville’s right hand. “You’re a soldier. You followed your orders. As you’ve told me more times than I care to remember, we don’t have the luxury of choosing which orders we obey. So drink to the memory of twenty good men. You did what you had to do. There is nothing to be gained now by self-flagellation.”
Treville turned to face him with a speed that had not diminished over the years Athos had known him. The captain prided himself on remaining as fit and hard as the men under his command. For a moment, Athos expected a fist to smash into his face, but he stood his ground and met Treville’s eyes. Instead of anger all he saw was a hopelessness of a kind that he had never thought to associate with the man who commanded a regiment of unruly musketeers with the ease of a schoolmaster presiding over charges that stood no higher than a desk.
Athos drew in a slow breath, picked up the glass and held it out. “Drink or I’ll remind you of all the times you have deployed similar tactics on me. Starting with this afternoon.”
“That’s a recitation that would take us well into the night watch.”
A note of resignation had crept into the rough voice and when Treville took the glass from Athos’ fingers and did as he’d been bidden, Athos counted it as a minor victory. Without waiting for permission, he poured another glass of spirit for himself.
“I’ll replenish your stores in the morning.” Athos took a small mouthful of Treville’s best brandy, a far cry from the noxious distillation the captain had plied him with earlier in the day after his loss of control with the Duke of Savoy.
“You’ll have to, or I’ll take it out of your pay.” Treville picked up the bottle and his glass and stalked through to his sleeping quarters.
Athos followed, taking the lack of a punch in the face for the invitation it almost certainly was. Subtlety had never played much of a part in their liaisons and had his presence been truly unwelcome, Treville would undoubtedly have ejected him, by force if necessary.
In the privacy of his bedroom, Treville stripped off his leather jacket, draped it carefully over a chair and then sat down on the bed to tug off his boots.
“Let me.” Athos set his glass down on the small table by the bed and went to his knees on the floor. “Your boots have seen better days.”
“Then they are in good company.”
Athos looked up and allowed a small smile to quirk his lips. “Self-pity doesn’t suit you.”
Treville’s answering smile was tired, but the alcohol had at least smoothed some of the lines from his face. “Are you offering me more than just a drinking companion for the night, Athos?”
Athos held Treville’s gaze and allowed his own guard to drop. “I’m offering whatever you care to take.”
The silence stretched between them, taut and as heavily laden as a pack mule. After long moments during which Athos did nothing more that sit back on his heels and look up at the man he was proud to call his commanding officer, Treville stretched out his hand and ran it through Athos’s hair. “I think tonight I would prefer you to be the one to do the taking.”
Athos shook his head. “I won’t fuck you in anger, if that’s what you’re looking for. There’s been too much anger today even for my tastes.”
A gentle finger ran down Athos’ cheek and lightly touched his scarred lip. “Says the man who will brawl with the Red Guards at the slightest excuse.”
“It’s expected of us.” Athos started to undo the fastenings of his jacket. “You know we hate to disappoint.”
The calloused hand slid back into his hair, Treville’s fingers gently kneading the back of his neck. Athos shrugged his jacket off and let it fall to the floor. He loosened the scarf around his neck and dropped that to one side. Treville’s hand slid down to his shoulder and continued the work of loosening the tension in Athos’ corded muscles. A few moments later, insistent hands tugged his shirt over his head. Athos rose up on his knees, quirking an eyebrow in mute enquiry.
In response, Treville leaned forward and kissed him. Unlike earlier in the day, this kiss was hesitant, as though the man still feared being rebuffed. Athos felt the rasp of stubble against his beard and allowed his eyes to fall shut as their mouths worked together and he tasted the tang of brandy on Treville’s tongue. Athos tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Breathing became a secondary consideration. Clothes found their way onto the floor as even Treville’s almost legendary neatness deserted him. The chill of evening had settled on the room. Athos pushed the sheet and blankets back and pulled Treville down onto the bed, his hands moving insistently over the hard muscles of the captain’s body, searching out the sensitive spots and ruthlessly exploiting the knowledge he’d gained during their past encounters.
Treville drew in a sharp breath as Athos nuzzled the side of his neck and then suddenly their positions were reversed as Athos found himself flat on his back on the bed, flipped over like a raw recruit in the training yard. Two strong hands held his head in place as Treville plundered his mouth, his iron control finally starting to slip. They rutted against each other like horny stable lads, taking pleasure in eliciting groans of pleasure, sometimes even whimpers – although both of them would deny that if challenged.
Their cocks were hard between them, pressing against sweat-slick bellies, any pretence at finesse discarded along with their clothes. Athos felt strong hands on his hips, turning him again, this time onto his stomach and he could feel the long line of Treville’s cock against his arse. Athos rubbed himself impatiently against the sheet as Treville leaned over him and fumbled in the drawer of the small table beside the bed. Moments later Athos felt a drip of oil in his crack, pushed into him by blunt, calloused fingers that worked him open with ruthless efficiency.
Athos exhaled slowly, willing himself to relax. Treville pulled him over onto his side, spooning behind him as he pushed the blunt head of his cock against Athos’ hole. Athos pressed back, enjoying the stretch and burn of penetration. Treville’s arms held him close and when he was fully sheathed in Athos’ body he finally began to move. Not the frenetic thrusting that Athos had expected, but a long, slow, almost sensuous slide of hard flesh inside him, drawing back nearly to the tip before pushing back again. At the same time he could feel the stubble on Treville’s jaw rasping against the back of his neck, ragged breathing warm against Athos’ over-heated flesh. It felt good, so good that Athos could finally feel the tension of the day start to leave him as he gave himself up to the pleasure of being fucked by a man he trusted far more than he trusted himself.
Treville slid his hand over the taut skin on Athos’ cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Athos felt a familiar heat pool low in his belly. He was close, so very close. There had been too much emotion in the air that day for either of them to want to defer their release overly long. He pushed back and gasped as Treville’s hips snapped forward to meet him, the slow, steady strokes finally giving way to a more frenetic coupling as both men chased their own climax like a dream of heaven.
A gasp muffled in his hair and strong arms tightening around his waist told Athos all he needed to know. He thrust up into the loose fist of Treville’s fingers, tension finally uncoiling as the slow fuse finally ignited, sending fire dancing along his nerves. They remained together as the after-shocks of release ran their course. Afterwards, Athos twisted lazily in Treville’s arms, pillowing his head on the captain’s shoulder.
Before the night was out, Athos would make his way back to his own rooms and a cold bed, but for now he was content to take what comfort he could at the end of a long and difficult day, hoping that he had also brought some relief to the man he would willing following into hell, should that ever be needed.
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Date: 2014-04-09 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-11 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-09 09:19 pm (UTC)I fail at being constructive :D
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Date: 2014-04-11 04:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-09 09:43 pm (UTC)I'm so happy I didn't miss it. I've had computer issues and have been very lacking in Musketeers and Tom.
Xxx
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Date: 2014-04-11 04:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-10 04:51 am (UTC)*sighs happily*
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Date: 2014-04-11 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-11 08:54 am (UTC)These two men are so similar and that must be why they work as a perfect slash pairing. They also both feel the weight of command so another reason why! And sometime in Season 2 there needs to be some Captain Treville backstory...I'm thinking there would be, as with Athos, much angst.
Loved this series and I look forward to reading more of your Athos/Captain Treville! :)
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Date: 2014-04-11 04:20 pm (UTC)Yes, some backstory for Treville would be awesome.
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Date: 2014-04-11 09:54 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2014-05-19 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-19 07:58 pm (UTC)And thank you so much for your lovely, thoughtful comments! It's been wonderful to receive all of them. I really appreciate you taking the time to catch up like this.