Justin woke up minutes before he allowed himself to open his eyes. When he opened them, the lids peeled upward slowly, languidly, as if waking from a hibernating sleep. Those pale blue eyes did not shy away from the sunlight which had somehow found its way directly across the bed; he subconsciously welcomed the warmth. His waking mind feasted its vision upon the sight of the warmly illuminated face just one pillow away. The bright light was deceptive, though; it's warmth had not nearly vanquished the cold that was clinging to the apartment. Suddenly the other boy in the bed was too far away. The blond slid his body closer to Ethan's, hoping to combine their collective warmths in a pre-waking embrace without disturbing him. Justin went stock-still when Ethan stirred which allowed the sleeping violinist to find him more readily with dreaming hands. Justin allowed himself to be gathered, allowed the clasping of his right hand. Ethan brought Justin's arm just under his chin, so Justin ended up half-sprawled across the chest of the dark haired boy whose lips were pressed together somewhat more tightly than sleep usually allowed. Justin's mouth curled into a generous smile of contentment, and he rested his head soundly in the middle of the smooth chest. With his free hand, he pulled the blanket up over his head, again, not to hide, but so his lover would not get cold. Within moments, Justin's goal was achieved, they were both much warmer than they would have been alone. He fell back to sleep but not before taking note of the filtered patterns of light the sun had scattered on Ethan's belly through the blanket, those enticing tiny pools of liquid gold that spanned the space before blanket met body again at the navel.
Justin woke again later and felt the light but rapid tapping of cool fingertips against the warmth of his right arm. Ethan must be cold, he thought. But it had not escaped his notice that the blanket had slipped down to his own shoulders. Instinctively he reached to pull it up again.
"Don't," Ethan's already low voice made more gravelly by advent of morning was music to Justin's ears. He turned his head to look at Ethan, whose eyes were already opened half-mast. The tapping on his forearm continued, "I can't see your halo if you cover your head." Their eyes locked, and Ethan was treated to another large smile from Justin, "And I am almost finished playing the Eroica."
Ethan flicked his eyes to his hand tapping on Justin's arm and then his liquid brown eyes caught the warm blue ones again. When he had done, Justin smiled up at him. "Am I out of tune?"
Ethan shook his head and said, "No, you're perfect, from adagio to allegro."
"Whatever that means," Justin replied and sealed the statement with a kiss. One thing led to another and so their morning began: acts of love and a Sunday of leisure ahead of them. Justin could have sworn he was in heaven, just as Ethan could have sworn he'd bedded Apollo himself.