Enjolras was splayed out on the nubby green couch, law textbook balanced in one hand, highlighter in the other. A blue pen was clenched between the student's teeth, and a flaxen curl hung over an attentive eye. As he flipped through each familiar page (Enj was a frequent studier), the words began to blur together. This didn't usually happen to him; he wasn't a very tired person, let alone lazy. His periwinkle-blue eyes drooped as he struggled to keep himself awake, blonde lashes fluttering delicately.
Suddenly, the door to their apartment swung open with a familiar thud.
"Honey, I'm ho-ome!", crooned Grantaire, as he tossed his trusty knapsack onto the wood floor. Taire was almost the polar opposite of Enjolras, in looks and personality. His ghostly pale skin and unkempt dark curls, not to mention the scruff of a beard that lined his chin, set him distantly apart from his blonde, clean-cut, godlike boyfriend.
Once, when asked why he loved Grantaire so much, Enj had shrugged and replied, "Opposites Attract."
"What's for lunch?" Enjolras cringed at 'Taire's barking voice. His head ached from studying for hours on end. 'Taire greeted his boyfriend with a sweet peck on the cheek and a ruffle of Enj's sacred golden curls.
"Hey babe," the sleepy blonde piped up. "I'll cook something as soon as I wake up, okay?" Grantaire nodded at Enj's reply and adjusted the olive green beanie that seemed to forever nestle itself in his mess of inky curls.
"Sounds perfect, Enj. Lemme go change first." 'Taire, the cynic, was not one to care about his looks; especially (and surprisingly) not around Enjolras. Several minutes late, the brunette emerged from their bedroom, wearing a ratty Pink Floyd t-shirt and an old pair of Enj's boxers, slung low on his slim hips. "Babe?" He called, not hearing Enjolras. As he sauntered over to the couch, Grantaire broke into a grin at the sight of his boyfriend passed out cold, law textbook rested on his lap. 'Taire chuckled bemusedly and shook his head, pulling out phone to capture this rare moment in a picture.
"My Apollo," Grantaire muttered, clicking his tongue and rolling his baby-blue eyes. Usually it would be the other way around, with 'Taire knocked out drunk on the couch, and Enj sitting quietly in the armchair, waiting for his lover to wake up so he could fetch the textbook that his boyfriend usually had fallen asleep on.
Yawning, Grantaire leaned down to press his lips to the creamy skin of Enjolras's neck. He knelt there for several minute, watching Enj lovingly, a goofy smirk on his ruddy face. Once content with his viewing, 'Taire slipped his arm around his sleeping boyfriend and planted a kiss on his cheek. All the while, Enjolras slept soundly, breathing lightly.
After a short while, Grantaire had dozed off as well, scrunched up next to Enj. One of his long, scruffy arms hung off the side of the couch, lips blowing his hot breath onto Enjolras's neck. Their legs had intertwined, bare against denim, and 'Taire was curled backwards into his lover. The cynic smirked in his sleep as his hand found its way into Enj's back pocket, its safe haven. The combined warmth of their two bodies pressed against each other kept both men content without a blanket.
"I never believed in love," Orestes had said.
"That's where I come in." replied Pylades.
All was right within their world.
