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The dawn chorus rouses Tim from slumber.
The soft twittering outside their window grows louder and louder as the cloudy dawn-washed minutes tick by, interrupted by rough trills and distant shrieks as more of the local fauna join the daily roll-call. It’s too familiar to be an alarm clock and Tim isn’t a light sleeper; he isn’t usually the first one awake. But then, he thinks, with lazy satisfaction as he stretches and feels Jason’s broad warmth still sleeping against his back, he did such a thorough job last night that he’d be shocked (and a little miffed) if he weren’t the first to return to wakefulness.
They need to get to work. The storm last night means fallen trees and possible mudslides— Tim hasn’t liked the look of the eastern ridge for a solid month— and they’ll need to clear the service roads. But Tim is loath to waste what definitely feels like Jason’s morning wood pressing into Tim’s ass. There are many benefits to sleeping with your range partner, and Tim intends to make use of them. Often, and well.
“Hhff …hmm…”
Jason exhales, humming and shifting in his sleep as he slowly wanders towards consciousness. Tim turns around to look at him, his bare shoulder brushing against Jason’s chest. He smiles at his sleeping face, lop-sided and stupid.
Tim isn’t as embarrassed about it as he could be, because he’s nursed these creeping tendrils around his heart for months now. A hungry vine that’s grown fat, worming through his bark and glutting off of Jason’s singular attention. Every argument, every fight; every late night debate with no one but the trees and the stars to hear them; it melted away whatever ice was left in Tim, the wintered ground he’d let fallow. This part is still new for them, a ramping tension that broke just five weeks ago, during the spring thaw.
He slips down through the ring of Jason’s arms, pushing Jason fully onto his back. Ignoring the sleepy grumble and the weak grasping of Jason’s thumbs, he trails his lips over the hickeys he’d bitten into Jason’s skin last night. His hands sift over the canvas of Jason’s body, speckled with freckles and Tim’s loving bruises, coming to rest on the relaxed muscle of Jason’s thighs. He savors the sharp inhale that bounces Jason’s belly the moment Tim opens his mouth, starting another hickey on the sensitive skin just above his cock.
Fingers card through the tangle of Tim’s hair, still clumsy with lethargy and twitching as Jason gasps and sighs beneath him.
“Mmf, well, good morning to me,” Jason rumbles, his voice splintering and rough. A short whine barks out of his throat when Tim nips him, nosing down the crease of his hip, brushing his cheek past Jason’s half-hard cock, neglecting it as it comes fully to attention. He shoulders his way under Jason’s thighs, petting over the sleep-warm skin and settling into place.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” Jason asks, a hitching laugh in his breathless voice as Tim kisses, sucks, and licks around his balls; slow and savoring, but never wavering from his target. “I am way too sore down there, you fuckin’ animal.”
Tim snorts. He’s the animal, huh? He hums in contemplation— mostly to make Jason sweat, but semi-serious as he toys with the idea of fingering at Jason’s used hole anyway, playing with him until he’s cursing and shaking.
They could have been more careful last night, taken more time to open Jason up; but Tim is a weak man. The first time he gets Jason on his back and practically presenting himself for Tim, and he starts begging Tim to just fucking fuck him already, that’s enough, he’s fine, he can take it, just get in me—
Could anyone blame him?
So yeah. Jason’s a little sore this morning.
Still. He licks gently over Jason’s rim, stroking soft but insistent, pretending he might taste himself leaking out even though they used a condom. Jason’s thighs clench around Tim’s head, his fingers dig into Tim’s scalp, his muscles fluttering in jerky shocks; clearly not sure if he wants more or needs it to stop.
“Tim, babe— ” Jason whines.
He dips the tip of his tongue inside of Jason just for the way it makes him clench, the drum of his heels against the bed and Tim’s back, the sharp whimpering moan as Tim drags against his inner walls. Only then does Tim show mercy.
He presses one last kiss to the red, abused skin, and tongues his way back up the underside of Jason’s cock. He smears his spit-streaked lips over the shaft, wet and drooling, and looks up at Jason through his lashes, making smoldering eye-contact.
“Next time,” Tim says, as Jason stares at him with wide eyes, watching Tim mouth the words against the dripping head. “You’re gonna let me take as long as I want. And then you’ll get a real wake-up call, Ranger Todd.”
Jason swallows, nodding dumbly. He opens his mouth to finish their usual joke, the one they tell whenever one of them brings up their job title; but Tim doesn’t give him the chance. “Wh-whatever you say, Ranger Dra— hah! ”
Tim takes Jason into his mouth, cheeks hollowing and grasping the rest of Jason in one hand, holding his bucking hips still with the other. Then he gets to work.
As Tim sinks down, steady and slow to meet his fist and start bobbing, Jason’s voice rises, joining the chorus that’s still singing outside with his own thready baritone. He arches beautifully against the bed sheets, shaking as he tries to follow Tim’s unspoken instruction to keep himself still.
Jason works his body hard, is always in control of every broad inch of himself, and it shows. Just like last night, his big hands had twisted tight in the sheets the way they’re twisting now in Tim’s hair, and all of that wound up, bound up power is unraveling, for Tim.
Tim lets go of Jason’s hip, sliding down to cradle his balls in his fingers, only gags once when Jason can’t stop the buck of his hips at his newfound freedom. Tim pulls off to breathe, Jason immediately loosening his grip even as he whines. He looks at Jason in warning, though he keeps stroking him in his fist to make up for the loss of his mouth.
“Stay still, baby,” Tim tells him. Jason shudders, nodding. He already knows.
“S-sorry,” he apologizes, and Tim rewards him with a smile.
“Good boy,” Tim murmurs, and swallows down Jason’s moan along with his cock.
It doesn’t take much longer after that. Tim can feel Jason getting tense, his balls drawing up in anticipation. He takes Jason deep, deeper, then quickens his pace. Jason’s whole body winds tight as a string, pushed closer and closer to that edge— until he pulls a little too hard at Tim’s hair, making Tim moan, loud and stifled as he pumps Jason in and out of his mouth. Jason comes down his throat with a shout.
Tim pulls off before Jason is done, spattering cum over his lips, his cheek. He swallows, then makes Jason groan when he sticks his tongue out, pillowing the head of his cock to let Jason watch the last of it land on Tim’s tongue.
As he finally reaches his finish, Jason collapses, boneless, covering his red face with his hands.
“Holy fuck. Holy fuck, Tim,” he pants.
Tim licks at his lips, is just reaching up to wipe at the mess on his cheeks, when Jason abruptly sits up to grab him under the arms and drag him up his body to kiss him, hard and full, tasting himself thoroughly. Tim laughs into the kiss, settling his elbows on either side of Jason’s head and squirming as his own hard cock rubs into Jason’s stomach.
“You’re getting cum on your face,” Tim informs him when he gets the chance, shivering as Jason gets a hand on the back of Tim’s neck, the other palming Tim’s ribs.
“Don’t care,” Jason breathes. “That was hot as hell, oh my god, you’re so hot. You’re so hot. Good morning.”
Tim can’t stop laughing. His voice is rough as bark, and his throat is wrecked. “Good mor— oh!”
He gasps when Jason’s roving hand locks around Tim’s shaft, pumping up and down, a touch too dry with only Tim’s precum to slick the way. Tim jerks, grabbing at Jason’s wrist.
“Jay, hold on, that’s—”
Jason lets go only to cover Tim’s mouth, the smell of their sweat and sex flooding close in Tim’s nose. Jason’s teal eyes are dark and hooded, his cheeks ruddy and hot, and Tim’s spine lights up, suddenly burning like the forest is on fire.
“Get me wet again for you, babe,” Jason whispers. “My turn.”
Tim drools into his palm with a full-body shudder, and muffles his moaning against Jason’s skin.
Jason’s softening cock presses wet into Tim’s thigh as he wraps his hand around Tim again, and Jason pulls Tim down with the hand on his neck as he resumes stroking him, tight and perfect. Tim digs his forehead into his own arm, all of his panting and wordless cries spilling unhindered directly into Jason’s ear, and Jason talks him through it.
“You give it to me so good, Tim, god, last night was perfect— never thought I’d have you, never thought I’d feel you inside me, but fuck if it wasn’t everything I dreamed about," he murmurs to him, rough with sleep and sex. "Do you know how many nights I wanted that? How many times I thought about just hauling you off-trail, letting you fuck me right there in the dirt, or against that old oak with that low-hanging branch just out— you know the one. You know it.”
He does know it. It’s not far along the service road, and they have to pass it every time they come back to the cabin. He’s thought about blowing Jason against its trunk. He’s thought about Jason fucking him over that branch, curved like a cradle and at the perfect height for bending someone over. He nods, senseless and whining, his knees shaking and his knuckles creaking around the pillowcase trapped in his fists.
“Yeah. Yeah. You’re so fuckin’ pretty Tim, didn’t think you could get prettier, but just the sight of you with your mouth on my cock— fuck, Tim. Every time. Like you were born for it. Like you shouldn’t do anything all day but keep my cock in your mouth. Do you like the way I taste, baby? I like the way I taste in your mouth. I love the way you taste,” Jason says.
Then he licks Tim’s cheek in a fast, wet slide all the way to his ear, twists his hand on the upstroke just so, and Tim comes with a long, sobbing moan.
Strength leaving him as his muscles turn to syrup, Tim falls on top of Jason.
Jason’s hand and the long streaks of Tim’s cum are trapped between them, but Jason doesn’t seem to mind, kissing Tim’s sweaty temple and stroking up and down Tim’s spine. Tim knows it’ll be uncomfortable later though, if it dries sap-sticky between them.
So after a minute of basking in the soft morning light, in the smell of them thick in the air and the sheets, he sighs and wriggles away to start cleaning up.
Jason groans.
“Five more minutes,” he whines. Tim tugs the pillow out from under him, unsympathetic. It’s gross with Tim’s sweat and spit, so it needs laundering like the rest of the bedding. Better to get that finished before they start the workday. They’re going to be dog-tired when they get back, if Tim’s right about that mudslide. The last thing they’ll want to do is laundry.
“Look alive, Ranger Todd,” Tim teases. “Or no more morning wake-up calls for you.”
Jason pouts at him. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“I see how it is. Give a man a taste of paradise, then threaten to rip it away at a moment's notice. You’re a cruel man, Ranger Drake.”
“I know. That’s why you like me.”
“No, I like you because of your massive, ass-destroying di—“
Tim hits him with the pillow, then dances away from the long reach of his grasping arms, retreating into the bathroom. Jason squawks and curses, a loud thump announcing that he’s fallen out of the bed. Tim leaves the door open behind him, because, well.
Jason’s responsible for the mess, so he’d better help clean it up. A good ranger always leaves nature better than they found it.