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asksweetheartjehan:

"Jehan, come to bed."
"I can’t."
"Combeferre’s flight isn’t scheduled to land for another five hours."
"I told him I would wait here!"

It was nearly midnight, and Jehan Prouvaire had been sitting, nose and cheeks bright pink from being near the frosted window pane, on the window seat in the front room for three hours. It was the night before Christmas Eve, and Combeferre was coming home for the holidays. Jehan was so ecstatic that he refused to do anything but watch and wait for his lover to appear once again. 

Around 3am, Enjolras shuffled into the living room once more to check on his friend, whom he had always had a secret soft spot for. Jehan’s heart was so big and his outlook so sweet that Enjolras couldn’t help but regard him as a baby bird of sorts.

The poet sat, head against the window, arms wrapped around his knees, fast asleep and snoring softly. Enjolras made a soft, tutting sound and looked around, before taking the quilt off of the back of the rocking chair. Quietly, he approached his sleeping friend and wrapped the quilt around him. Jehan’s reaction was instantaneous, and he snuggled down into the quilt with no hesitation. Enjolras chuckled and turned around to shuffle back to bed.

Jehan was startled awake by the slamming of a car door. His head popped up and his eyes went wide. Impatiently, he scrubbed the window pane with his sleeve and, in the dusky twilight, he could barely make out a dark figure pulling a suit case out of a trunk. Unable to make a sound, the hopeless romantic hopped up from the seat and took of down the stairs, nearly tripping over himself the entire way. 

It was snowing steadily, a layer nearly three inches this already blanketing the earth, but Jehan could feel nothing but the beating of his own heart; He was oblivious to the biting winter wind as the door slammed open. It was a lucky thing, too, because that was what made Combeferre turn around, startled, just in time to catch Jehan as he jumped into his arms. A flush of emotion flooded all of his senses, and the man, such a scholarly, well-put together man, buried his head in the curtain of fragrant blond hair and began to cry. 

Jehan pulled away and took Combeferre’s face in his hands, and kissed him. It was nothing so special, a simple little kiss in the flickering street lamp and barely-blue sky. But to the couple, it was a moment that would live within them forever. 

Truly the best gift either of them had, or ever would, receive again. 
Jehan pulled back just enough to look into Combeferre’s clear eyes. “Welcome home.”

asksweetheartjehan asked:

Jehan was usually anything but subtle. But the snow falling upon the ground created such a sweet serenity, the twinkling of the stars in the velvety sky above such a magnificent beauty, he couldn't find it in himself to make a sound. Dragging a steady finger in the snow the romantic drew a big heart in the snow, then tapped softly upon Adrien's window.

historically-late:

asksweetheartjehan:

historically-late:

Adrien rubbed his eyes and yawned when he heard the gentle knocking, stumbling to the door in his pajamas and crew neck sweatshirt, one slipped sliding off of his foot. He opened the door and his eyes widened. “Jehan?”

Feathery snowflakes clinging to his sweater, Jehan brushed a strand of long, blondish hair back behind his ear and gave Adrien a shy, sweet look. “Bonjour, Mon Amour.” he whispered, tilting his head up slightly &, in a very girlish and flirtatious manner, fluttered his eyelashes.

Adrien’s smile grew and he hugged Jehan close, squeezing his body harshly. “Mon amour, oh, this is so sweet!” He cried out and brushed his nose against Jehan’s. “Merci!”

A choked squeak escaped the poet, followed by a joyful giggle. Jehan wound his arms about Adrien’s neck, kissing his nose playfully. “Did you miss me?” he asked, childishly hopeful. 

asksweetheartjehan asked:

Jehan was usually anything but subtle. But the snow falling upon the ground created such a sweet serenity, the twinkling of the stars in the velvety sky above such a magnificent beauty, he couldn't find it in himself to make a sound. Dragging a steady finger in the snow the romantic drew a big heart in the snow, then tapped softly upon Adrien's window.

historically-late:

Adrien rubbed his eyes and yawned when he heard the gentle knocking, stumbling to the door in his pajamas and crew neck sweatshirt, one slipped sliding off of his foot. He opened the door and his eyes widened. “Jehan?”

Feathery snowflakes clinging to his sweater, Jehan brushed a strand of long, blondish hair back behind his ear and gave Adrien a shy, sweet look. “Bonjour, Mon Amour.” he whispered, tilting his head up slightly &, in a very girlish and flirtatious manner, fluttered his eyelashes.

((Is it really that hard to get your point across without completely devastating another person or group of people? There is no valid reason for anyone to tear into anyone else just for the sake of getting the point across. For example, there is nothing wrong with being straight. There’s nothing wrong with being cisgender. These people are allies & I will not stand for them to be torn down simply because of a few bigoted idiots. I don’t think it’s fair to generalize anything.

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