portance + five times they almost kissed and the one time they didn't [aka they finally kissed pretty please]
send me a pairing + a five times situation and I’ll write you a fic
well it got longer, so also here on ao3
One
“Hold still,” Constance snapped, her anger sneaking out, afalse bravado so her hands wouldn’t shake as she stitched the wound on Porthosleg up. “Athos always did say you were better unconscious for this.”
But Athos, Aramis, and d’Artagnan weren’t around to helpher. It was just her and Porthos who had gotten separated from the group in theensuing battle and ended up farther out than expected. The rest of them wereproblem looking for them as they spoke but until then Constance had to do thebest she could.
“He does enjoy knocking me out.” Porthos said, voice deeperthan usual to try to hide the pain but it did no good.
“At this point I think I would to,” Constance smiled up athim to assure him she was just joking and thankfully finished the final stitch.“There, that ought to hold if you just stop moving around.” She pushed him alittle to get him to lie down but with his strength gone he didn’t offer muchresistance and she ended up falling over on him. “I’m sorry,” Constancestruggled to get up, trying to be careful of Porthos leg.
At the same time he raised his head, about to tell her itwas fine no doubt – a lie she would hardly believe – but ended up just ahairsbreadth away from her lips, the words dying in his throat.
His eyes were a deep brown, she couldn’t help but notice,with laughter lines already carved into his face next to them.
“My thanks.” Porthos managed to get out, the depth in hisvoice having nothing to do with pain this time.
“You owe me one.” Constance replied and was about to leaneven more, so close to a kiss when their names being called startled her backto an awareness of their surroundings. “We’re over here.” She yelled out to theother Musketeers and stood up, offering a hand to Porthos and huffing with exertionas she pulled him up.
“I’ll try to repay the favour.” Porthos said as he righted himselfby leaning against her. Time would tell if he could get the chance.
Two
The last time Porthos had dealt with sickness was his secondyear of a being a Musketeer, he’d come down with the flu that was hitting Parishard. Since then he prided himself in hardly ever being sick when the viruscame back to Paris every year.
Unfortunately this time Constance didn’t have his immunityand lay in bed with a high fever, mumbling words that made no sense and kickingoff her blankets. They’d each said they would help but as they were called awayPorthos had been the one to agree to stay behind with Constance, surprisingeveryone including himself.
“Wouldn’t be right to leave a friend behind,” He had saidwhen questioned and genuinely meant that though the situation wasn’t dangerousper say.
Now he struggled trying to remember how things felt for himwhen he was ill and how best to help Constance.
“You’ll be all right,” He told her, resting a cloth soakedin water on her forehead.
She looked up at him with miserable eyes, every breath rattlingaround in her chest.
He was so thankful the day the fever broke and Constancelooked herself.
“Thank you.” She said quietly as Porthos began to pack up toleave and give her time to herself again. She reached out to grab his shirt andhelp him at the same time Porthos did and they jerked their heads up, lips verynearly touching. For a moment Porthos wished they had.
Constance’s flush could be blamed on whatever was left ofher illness though and it wasn’t the right to reach out and kiss her if thatwas the cause. Porthos shoved the rest of his things in his bag and wished agood rest of the recovery, hurrying out the door.
Three
“I am not their wakeup call,” Constance muttered as she stormed up the steps of the garrison, fullyintent on yelling at the Musketeers who were supposed to have met her at thepalace at dawn but hadn’t arrived.
She ended up at Porthos’ door first and walked in when hedidn’t answer. He was passed out on the bed, snoring lightly and Constancesnorted in amusement.
It was tempting to drench him with water as retribution forbeing late but instead she walked over and shook his shoulder, calling his name.
Porthos blinked blearily as he woke up, yawning and makinghis jaw crack, once he caught sight of her hovering over him however he smiledsleepily at her. “Constance,” Porthos said, his voice rough with sleep stilland Constance realized this was how he would sound straight in the mornings, ifhe rolled over in bed and – she stopped the thoughts before they went away andfixed him with a glare.
Porthos either didn’t notice or ignored it, most likely thelater given how he always laughed when she glared, and sat up. Constance didn’tstep backwards in time however and her heart hammered in her ears when Porthosvery nearly kissed her from that action.
“I…should go get the others.” She said and fled the room,her heart still beating heavily.
Next time she would go with the water to avoid suchsituations.
Four
Porthos could tell he still stood out in the court, evensurrounded by as many people as he was. Part of it was his height and generalaura around himself that made several ladies eye him in wonder, he winked atthem as he made his way towards where Constance stood beside the Queen.
“I see you made it,” Constance said hotly, not looking himin the eye. To an outsider it might seem she was jealous of what he had justdone but Porthos shrugged it off.
“Ah finally the Musketeers arrive, Constance has been by myside all night and deserves a break,” The Queen stated as Porthos bowed to her,offering them both a soft smile, “I leave her with you.”
Constance opened her mouth to contest to that but Anne wasalready gliding across the room, every inch of her royalty. She sighed andgestured to the window, “I could use some air.”
Porthos nodded his agreement and followed her to thebalcony. “Anything of note tonight?” It was an innocent enough question to thepasserby but he was really asking if there was anything that they should beaware of to watch over.
“Things have been quiet, which is nice. We could use morenights like these.” Constance looked over at him, “Perhaps less crowdedhowever.”
Her hair was done up extravagantly, not a curl out of place,it was beautiful but Porthos missed the way her hair spilled over hershoulders, his fingers itched to pull it out of the position it was in but hesteadied his hand by resting it on top the sword handle at his side. “Moneycould be used for the people,” He grunted, somewhat bitter how royalty lived itup in the palace as people like him had scrounged just to survive in the lowerstreets.
Constance rested her hand on his arm, meeting his gaze withunderstanding, “I’ll talk to her Majesty.” Constance said and unlike emptypromises he’d heard before he knew she meant it.
Standing as they were he had ducked his head to hear her andwith the shoes she had on the night it gave her more height. Once more hethought how they might look to the people in the crowd, who could see them aslovers in the moonlight and the thought made him inch slightly closer.
Constance didn’t stop him, her blue eyes on his and hermouth fell open but not in protest.
They fell apart however when Aramis crashed in to them afterbeing slapped by one of the ladies.
Five
Her arms burned with exhaustion but Constance held on to hersword, lifting it above her head to block the next attack from the Englishman.
By her side Porthos was ducking a swinging sword and returninga fist to his attackers stomach, making the man fall over in a gasp.
Constance kicked her attackers’ shins and pulled her swordaway to slam the handle into his face, causing him to crumple to the ground.
The fight seemed never ending in the streets of Paris, likeit was days before it stopped instead of the mere hours but they werevictorious.
“Constance.” Porthos said, above her from where she hadcollapsed on a bench, breathing heavily. He crouched down to take a look ather.
“I’m fine, Porthos, go help the others.” She pushed damphair out of her eyes and swallowed, her muscles beginning to shake now that theadrenaline had worn off and she had no idea if she would stand again.
He frowned at her and ignored her words, reaching over tohoist her to her feet and help her stagger back home.
“I hate you,” She muttered without heat and it only madePorthos laugh as it always did.
They reached her house without anymore issues and she forcedherself to lean against the doorway. “I’ll be fine,” She tried telling himagain, catching his eyes, “You should go.” He had to do his duty and she knewit, smiling at him to show that.
Porthos opened his mouth to argue but shook his head and grinnedback sheepishly, any argument he might have had she’d counter easily.
“Constance,” He began and leaned down, making her wish shehad the strength to lean up and close the space between them, Porthos swallowedhard and pulled back. “Take care.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead instead, leaving herstanding there and wishing for more.
+ One
They’d arrived back in Paris late at night, just the two ofthem on the mission from the Queen; or at least Porthos was the Musketeer she’dchosen to take with her. They made their way to Constance’s house where Porthoswas about to say his goodbyes when Constance stopped him.
She pressed her hand against his mouth before he could say aword and looked up at him, “Stay tonight.” She said softly, letting the offerfall between and leaving it in Porthos’ hands.
In answer he tugged her hand away from his mouth and leaneddown to kiss her as he had wanted to for a while now, pulling her closer as shewrapped her arms around him.
“Stay forever.” Constance said so quietly he almost didn’thear her when she stepped back.
“Could do that.” He replied and grinned, pushing curls awayfrom her face to cup her cheek as he kissed her again.
They shut the door behind them and opened a whole new oneinstead.
