It all started with Enjolras's day at the office – long, hard, and unbelievably taxing. When he returned home to his apartment, he was not at all surprised to find himself tripping over Grantaire's sneakers in the entryway. His clingy boyfriend was his apartment more often than not. He proceeded into the open kitchen to see that an abandoned mug of coffee lay half-full on the breakfast bar with a quick charcoal sketch next to it. The irritated revolutionary didn't have to look at it to know that it was the usual overly-grandiose depiction of himself.
Enjolras put his briefcase down on the table and headed towards his bedroom, where Grantaire was probably dozing off or smoking something illegal or, most likely, a combination of the two. When he opened the door, though, he saw that his bed was empty. There was no trace of his boyfriend.
He looked toward the bathroom door, where he could hear muffled music. Slowly peering inside, his face was met with a wall of hot steam and the sweet melody of Bob Marley's Three Little Birds.
In the bathtub hidden under a mountain of foamy bubbles was his boyfriend, nose buried in a book.
Enjolras couldn't help but smile.
Looking up, Grantaire returned the grin and sang along with his iPod. "I'm saying, 'Don't worry about a thing...'"
The blond rolled his eyes lightheartedly in response.
"'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright!"
"Is this what you're doing with your life?" The leader's voice was not cutting, rather, it was teasing.
"You told me to take a bath," retorted Grantaire playfully, a mischievous glint creeping into his eye.
"Yeah, three days ago. My apartment smells like ass all the time because of you."
"Not true! Sometimes it smells like cigarettes."
He chuckled. "You're insufferable."
"I know. Now take off your clothes and join me; tell me all about work."
"Give me a minute."
Enjolras exited the humid bathroom for the crisp air of his bedroom. He hung his suit and tie in the closet and carelessly deposited his button-down in the hamper before returning to Grantaire, who had put the book down while he was away. Another smooth reggae tune that Enjolras couldn't identify was starting to play as he lowered himself into the water so that he was sitting atop his lover and leaning back into his embrace.
Arms curled around the tense man's chest from behind and a nose nuzzled into his neck. "Tell me about today."
"Paperwork," he started, "and lots of it. Some frivolous class-action lawsuit wants me on their team. They want to bankrupt a small privately-owned medical research lab in Virginia. It's bullshit."
"Total bullshit," Grantaire agreed absentmindedly as he planted languid kisses onto his shoulder.
"And to top it all off, they told me that if I didn't take their case, they would call a witness in my current client's case to ensure her guilt. It's this kind of corruption that I've wanted to end for so long, and yet now it continues right in my face and I'm powerless to stop it."
"That's what you get for being the best lawyer in DC," replied his obedient lover between loving little smooches.
"To think that I once thought there were honest men in the world. Surely there must still be someone who values truth and justice; I just have yet to find them. I'm trying so hard, Grantaire, I really am. Why is it that whenever I try to do something for the greater good, there's always someone to put their foot in my face and push me down?"
"Such is life. But you keep going, because that is what you do, Apollo. You keep pushing your tremendously senseless goals despite all odds. That is what I love about you."
He felt the overwhelming stress of the day that he bore in his neck and shoulders melt into the water while the love of his life soothed it out of him with his mouth. The warmth of the water and his love enveloped his entire body with a feeling of security while an underlying feeling of unease remained in the pit of his stomach. "I don't know what to do."
"Don't do anything," whispered Grantaire gently, "just let it go. You're away from all of that worry now; all your troubles are gone."
Enjolras sighed contentedly.
"You're home. Breathe easy, and relax. All your work can wait until tomorrow; you've far past earned a bit of respite."
The thick, wet air made its way into Enjolras's pores. It smelled of soap and moisture and calmness, making his muscles relax completely. His head lolled back onto Grantaire's broad shoulder.
"Until tomorrow," he echoed, as if in a trance. This is what Grantaire did to him – he alone knew how to suck all the impassioned, angry energy out of Enjolras and hold him in a state of complete tranquility that he would only know in his presence. While Grantaire loved to see passion soar in his partner, he knew that the fury needed to be drained out of him sometimes, and he was just the man to do so. He took a special pride in being able to put him in a state of blissful repose.
He turned his head to place a tender, lingering kiss on his lips.
"I love you," murmured the artist, his lips lightly brushing his lover's as he spoke.
Enjolras softly kissed him back.
Grantaire brought a dripping hand up to cradle his face, his thumb gently brushing his cheekbone. Enjolras leaned ever so slightly into the touch.
"I'm so lucky to have you."
It's kind of like Enjolras's catch-phrase in their relationship. He knows how insecure his partner is, and so he tries his best to make up for the lack of confidence with constant reassurance. It had become second nature for him to be constantly muttering phrases of encouragement.
Grantaire tilted his face forward again to catch him in yet another sweet kiss.