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There are some mornings when Jason wakes up slowly. Mornings where the Waystation moves their bedroom so that the morning sun rays can stream in through the window and paint the walls a soft, fuzzy gold but never shining on their faces. Mornings where Jason knows he doesn't have any meetings to go to, mornings where he knows Leo doesn't have too much on his own personal to-do list. Mornings where it's just the two of them in their softly settling home and they can pretend that there's nothing beyond these walls.
Jason always wakes up early, even when they don't set an alarm, but Leo sleeps like the dead. So long as Jason doesn't leave the bed, Leo will continue to snooze, his eyelashes fanned across his cheeks and little snores puffing past his barely opened lips. It's a point of pride for Jason, really. For the longest time after they met, Leo never let himself properly rest unless he was able to tuck himself into a secure little alcove where he was protected and nobody could reach him. He'd sleep in front of others, if he had no choice, but he was twitchy and would wake up if someone so much as changed their breathing pattern. Even now, he only sleeps well when he's cozied up in their bed with Jason’s weight pressing him into their mattress, but once he's asleep he’ll stay that way until Jason deliberately wakes him up or if he gets out of bed and leaves the room. Then Leo will make a soft, discontented sound and shuffle into whatever room Jason is in and wrap his arms around Jason's waist and press his face hard in-between his shoulder blades. Jason wears the sound of Leo’s snores like a badge of honor, even if Leo gets a little embarrassed about how clingy he gets in his sleep. To Jason, each one of those snores is yet another tick of proof that Leo is happy, that he feels safe , and that he's alive.
Sometimes during these mornings, Jason squeezes Leo tight to his chest like a terrified child clings to their favorite stuffed animal. He feels grief and relief both clawing at the back of his throat, so he nuzzles his face down into the curls he knows so well. He feels tears stinging in his eyes because he thinks about how close they came to losing this. For a while there, it seemed like all they could do was lose it over and over again, loving one another back to life with their own dying breath. For a while there it seemed like the cycle would just continue forever until it finally settled and he was alive and Leo was alive and they were together and nothing could separate them. It’s been years since the last time Jason had taken a breath knowing Leo couldn't do the same, but sometimes fear still rattles in his chest and all he can do is try to fold Leo into his ribcage where maybe he can keep him safe while he prays to whatever is out there that's older and bigger than the deities of myth that the other shoe never drops. He's seen pictures of Leo’s bisabuelo, and he wants to know what Leo will look like at that age. Will he inherit Sammy's deep, craggy wrinkles? Will he wind up needing glasses just like Jason? Will his eyes still sparkle and his nose still scrunch over his wide toothy smile when they're so old that they can't even remember the pain of their youth? Some sleepy mornings, all Jason can do is try not to cry and pray that he gets to keep this life he loves so well.
Other times, suffering and death and fear are the last things on Jason’s mind. How can he possibly think of things like that when he's laying in bed with Leo and his husband is the most beautiful creature to ever take in a breath? Jason has seen the face of Venus and Cupid. He has looked love and beauty in the eye, but neither of them took his breath away like this.
Leo is shirtless because they'd changed the sheets yesterday, and Leo likes to have as much contact with their fresh clean linens as possible that first night. He's laying on his stomach and his face is pressed deep in his pillow and the crisp white cotton sheet is draped tauntingly over his hips. In the warm, fuzzy light of early morning, Leo’s skin looks soft and supple and he seems to glow with ethereal light like Celestial Bronze, and Jason wants nothing more than to reach out and touch it, so he does. He runs his hands all over Leo’s back, gently rubbing out any tension that he's hiding in his muscles like a secret, until Leo turns into a blissful sleeping puddle. Then, Jason’s thumbs dig into the little divots on the small of Leo’s back that make his breath hitch on a tiny little hiccup of surprise and his hips twitch. Jason feels his expression of warm, gooey affection turn sharp and wicked. This is another one of his highest honors – one of his sacred duties, even – and he relishes the opportunity to perform.
Love when you do this to me, Leo had gasped into the hot, humid air of their bedroom as his body trembled.
Jason had hummed and pressed kisses all over Leo’s chest as he made his way back up where he belonged. Leo’s body temperature was so high that Jason’s lips practically sizzled with every kiss, and he eagerly pressed in closer to that heat. When I do what to you, baby?
Make me feel good. Leo had shuddered anew when Jason finally got to kiss him in that spot behind his ear. You always make me feel good. Wanna make you feel good.
You do, sweet thing, Jason had rumbled. No one could ever make me feel better.
Want you to make me make you feel good, Leo had demanded on a thin whine. All the time, no matter what. Always wanna be what makes you feel good. Even when I'm asleep.
Jason had paused at that but the desperate warbling sound Leo had made had kicked him back into action for the moment. They'd talked about it afterwards, and Leo had flushed nearly vermillion as he haltingly explained his desires while Jason sat there in silence as he listened to every one of Leo’s honeyed words. When they were done talking, Jason had flipped Leo over, pressed him back into the mattress, and finger fucked him until tears streamed down his cheeks and his slurred praises couldn't even fall out past his fat, lolling tongue.
That's where Jason’s mind wanders to as he pushes the sheet down. He's mildly disappointed to see that Leo hadn't kicked off his sweatpants in his sleep, but with the way they ride so low, Jason can't help but think that Leo looks like a Christmas gift, wrapped up neatly and just waiting for Jason to tear into him. Jason wastes no time and shoves both hands under the waistband of Leo’s boxers, impatient to sink his fingers into the soft meat of Leo’s ass. Leo lets out a soft little gasp before pressing back into Jason’s hold and nuzzling his pillow. Jason feels his smile get wider. Cute.
Jason pushes Leo’s remaining layers down, leaving him exposed, but the air in their room is so warm that he doesn't even shiver. Jason continues to pet and squeeze, kneading the flesh before him like a contented cat, almost mesmerized by the way his fingers sink so easily into the fatty tissue and the faint pink crescent marks his nails leave behind. Jason revels in the sight of these little marks his love leaves scattered across Leo’s skin, so he bends forward and places a loving kiss on each one in an action that feels worshipful in its reverence. Leo lets out a soft whimper and kicks his hips back and Jason’s grin widens yet again. Even cuter.
Jason removes his hands, ignoring Leo’s sleepily muttered discontent so that he can sit back and shove his own pants down. He grips his cock for a few lazy strokes as he watches Leo twitch and squirm, subconsciously looking for Jason. The mere thought sends a white hot flash of possessive delight searing across Jason’s eyelids and he has to take a deep, shaky breath or two to regain his control. When he can see straight again, he slings one leg over Leo’s hips and settles in with his hard cock pressed into the spot where Leo’s thighs meet his ass. Jason gives a short, experimental thrust and is rewarded with a muffled little moan from Leo, so he does it again.
Leo tries to move under him, and, without thinking, Jason puts his teeth on that one little spot where Leo’s pulse flutters under his skin like a trapped baby bird. It's not a bite, it's not even a warning, but Leo immediately goes still and limp under him, and Jason practically purrs. Leo is his. His to touch and move and hold. His to protect and take care of. Even in his sleep, Leo knows that, and it makes Jason want to puff up and preen. Instead, he just rubs his chin all over that delicate pulse point. Leo will complain about beard burn when he properly wakes up, but Jason’s not too worried about it because it just means that he'll get to gently rub aloe into the agitated skin and blow cold air across it and feel Leo shiver in his arms. Besides, he's seen Leo stand in front of a mirror, admiring the marks Jason left all over him, his cheeks as warm and red as the rash.
“I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweet thing,” Jason coos into Leo’s ear. “You’re so pretty and I'm gonna make you feel so good. And you're gonna make me feel good too, yeah?” The sound Leo makes is garbled and choked off and muffled into his pillow, but it sounds pleased nevertheless, so Jason rewards him with a little nip to the shell of his ear. “Oh, you like that? You just want to feel good and make me feel good, huh?” Leo doesn't answer him, of course, but Jason doesn't need (doesn't even want) an answer, so he just presses a loving kiss to the soft baby curls at the base of Leo’s skull and sits back on his heels.
His hands go back to Leo’s ass like they're trapped in a gravitational field, and he massages for another moment before he pulls the cheeks apart in order to examine Leo’s hole. Part of him wants to dive forward and eat Leo out. He loves eating his husband out, sucking his dick, getting his mouth on him in any way possible, really, and Leo loves it just as much. He doubts that Leo would be able to come up with something that involved Jason’s mouth that they wouldn't both thoroughly enjoy. But as nice as rimming Leo until big fat crocodile tears roll down his cheeks sounds, that would definitely wake him up, and Jason has plans that don't involve that. He reaches forward to fish the well-loved bottle of lube out of the bedside drawer, and thoroughly covers his fingers. When he can't feel any lingering coldness, he reaches forward and pets his thumb across Leo’s hole.
The reaction is immediate. Leo shudders and softens, practically inviting Jason inside, and Jason was always told it was rude to refuse an invitation. He starts with just the tip of his middle finger, and it slides in easily, so Jason takes a moment to thank his past self for fucking Leo so thoroughly the night before. He starts to move his finger deeper, ever so slowly, and he holds his breath for any sign that Leo is waking up. There isn't any, and the first time he'd done this, Jason had been amazed that Leo was sleeping through it, but by now he was practically a trained professional. Once his finger is sunk down to the knuckle, he starts to remove it, just as slowly as he'd put it in.
Leo is warm on the inside. He always is and Jason always revels in it, wanting to get as close to the flame that burns bright in Leo’s soul as possible. It's beautiful, he knows it is, even if Leo sometimes flinches away from it and warns Jason of the danger it poses. He knows it's beautiful because it's Leo and every scrap of Leo is beautiful, and Jason wants to reach out and cup that flame in his bare palms and hold it close to his chest and whisper promises that he won't let anything happen to it and hear those promises whispered back in the crackle and pop of fire.
Focus, Jason gently chides himself. He'd been so caught up in thoughts of Leo that his finger had stilled and Leo, impatient and demanding even in his sleep, had started writhing in search of friction. Jason makes a soft, soothing sound deep in his lungs and kisses a line of apologies up Leo’s spine before he inserts a second finger. Leo lets out a gentle grunt of contentment so Jason continues on his mission. Stretching while Leo’s asleep is always a delicate balance: he can't go too fast or the motion will wake him up, but he can't go too slow or Leo will get frustrated and overwhelmed and wake up anyway. It had taken plenty of trial and error, but by this point Jason knew that so long as Leo kept making those huffing grunt sounds, he was in the clear.
Jason isn’t sure how long he spends stretching Leo (somewhere between mere seconds and a thousand lifetimes, he thinks) but soon Leo is ready and impatience nips at the back of Jason's mind. He snaps back at it, determined to take his time and do this properly, and his hips are poised and ready to go.
Then, he has a very fun thought.
“Leo,” he calls gently, his lips brushing across the point of Leo’s ear. “Leo, can you hear me? I want you to wake up now, okay?” Leo makes a little snuffling sound and Jason’s teeth flash like fangs. “That's it. Come on, baby. Wake up for me.”
Leo’s eyes flutter open and he blinks hard a couple times. “Jas’n? Wha're you–” His eyes go wide and he cuts himself off with a strangled moan.
“Good morning, sweet thing,” Jason croons, finally settled deep within his husband, right where he belonged.
Leo doesn't reply; he just writhes in place and groans. “Jason!”
Jason leans forward so his chest is pressed warm and firm against the line of Leo’s back and his lips brush against the shell of his ear when he asks, “What’s wrong, sweet thing?”
Leo trembles beneath him, and lets out a soft, wordless whine high in the back of his throat when he feels Jason shift inside him. It takes him a moment to catch his breath, having just woken up, but he answers because he knows the rules. Jason needs to know that he’s doing the right thing, and he can only know that if Leo answers him. “Not wrong,” he pants, drool smearing into the soft pillowcase. “Jus’ full.”
“Full?” Jason questions softly. He presses his hips forward just a little farther just to get another one of those little noises from Leo. They all sound like he can't get his lungs to properly inflate and Jason revels in each one of them. “You like it? Feels good?”
“S’good,” Leo slurs. He squirms around for just a second so he can tilt his hips up towards Jason. “Feel you in my throat.”
“Don't think I'm quite that deep, baby,” Jason says apologetically, but he thrusts forward like he can maybe make it if he tries a bit harder. He shoves his hand under Leo so he can press down hard on his soft tummy. “You’re just gonna have to make do with feeling me in here.”
Jason can feel Leo get tighter, both from the outside pressure of his hand as well as the way Leo’s whole body stiffens and clenches. “Please!”
“Please?” Jason echoes, scraping his teeth along the column of Leo’s throat before giving it a sharp nip. “Please what?”
“I– I just– Jason, please!”
Jason growls low and deep in his throat, his playfulness from a second ago vanishing. He plants his teeth on that pulse point again just to feel Leo rag doll beneath him. “Please what?” he demands sharply. “Answer me, Leo.” Leo just continues to tremble, so Jason’s face softens. “Color?”
Leo relaxes, and takes in a few heaving breaths, and Jason focuses on the way his chest expands and contracts. He turns his head to the side so Jason can see his foggy brown eyes and his almost drunken smile. “Green.”
Jason smiles and presses a firm kiss to Leo's cheek. “I love you,” he reminds him, just because he can.
Leo sighs and arches his back so he's pressed even closer to Jason’s heart. “Love you, too.”
Jason croons out his delight and rubs his jaw up and down the column of Leo’s neck before covering it with little kisses where his lips hardly brush Leo’s skin before they're fluttering off to the next spot, and the one hand that isn't holding his weight strokes Leo’s side like he's soothing a spooked animal. As he continues his journey, Leo softens again, and as soon as he's back to blissful bonelessness, Jason fingers pinch his nipple and his teeth clamp down in a way that feels almost mean. Or, it would feel mean if it didn't make Leo’s eyes roll to the back of his head or pull a moan past his slack-jawed lips. “Please what?”
“Fuck me!” Leo wails. He tips forward and buries his face in the pillow, clenching the sheets so tight Jason would worry about them flying off the bed if he didn't already know that was impossible. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me. Please, just fuck me. I'll do whatever you want, jus’ fuck me. Please.”
“Fuck you?” Jason parrots, coloring his tone with the same confusion he uses for when he pretends to not understand Leo’s pop culture references. “Am I not already fucking you?” To prove his point, Jason thrusts his hips, sharp and quick and deep. Leo makes a bright garbled sound that echoes beautifully on Jason’s ears, and he shudders from head to toe. “I'm already inside you. You're already full. What else do you want?”
“You gotta–” Leo cuts himself off with a grunt and he tries to press back into Jason, but Jason squeezes his hip hard enough to bruise and he falls motionless again. “Jace, please! You gotta move!”
“Move?” Jason asks, keeping his tone playfully curious. “You mean like this?” With that last word, Jason starts up a brutal pace that would have sent Leo scooting up towards the headboard if Jason weren't pinning him so thoroughly.
“Fuck! Yes! Thank you!” Leo shifts suddenly, and somehow he gets his knees up under his chest, and Jason would be growly and mad about Leo moving out of the position Jason so carefully arranged him into, but he feels like he's even closer to Leo now and the stream of high-pitched praises is far, far too pretty for him to even consider complaining. “Thank you thank you thank you!”
“Anything for you,” Jason swears. Some people might say those words in hyperbole, some might acknowledge that there are limits, but not Jason. He doesn't say things he doesn't mean, and this is no different. If Leo looked up at him with big brown eyes and asked for the sun, he'd have Apollo's chariot by lunch. By sundown, the Earth would fall to darkness, the sun itself in Leo’s palms, glowing dim and cold when compared to the light in his eyes.
And the thing is that Leo understands that devotion. He knows Jason will do anything for him if he so much as asks. Jason will peel an orange for him, taking care to remove all of those little strings Leo hates so much, just as soon as he will tear down Mount Olympus with his bare hands. Jason will die for him over and over and over again until the Fates get tired of cutting his string, and he treasures every day he gets to live for Leo instead. That devotion scares Leo sometimes, Jason knows it does, because Leo has whispered those words into his ear when they're curled up close to one another under the warmth of blankets and the cover of night. But he still understands. He understands that devotion and treasures it because it is the same devotion he feels. Storm or fire. Both bright and powerful and destructive and designed to hurt. Jason sometimes thinks that he and Leo were destined to ruin each other's lives, and he wonders how they got so lucky as to force that destiny to bend to the will of their love instead. It doesn't really matter, he supposes. Leo’s already ruined him for anything but this right here.
Leo’s crying now, cheeks wet with tears and breaths heaving on overwhelmed little hiccups. Normally, Jason freezes up a little at the sight of Leo’s tears. He doesn't see them very often, but when he does he's all but paralyzed with the need to pull Leo in so close he can feel their heartbeats thrumming in tune and fixitfixitfixit. He was put on this Earth for the sole purpose of loving Leo, and he'll be damned if he fails. He remembers the first time Leo had cried when they were having sex. He remembers practically flinging himself off the bed and wanting to whine in hurt confusion because how was he meant to make things better when he was the one making them worse? He remembers Leo coaxing him back on the bed like he was a feral animal and the way Leo had cupped his jaw and brushed calloused thumbs over his cheekbones and smiled even as his eyes were still wet with tears. He remembers Leo telling him about feelings that are just too big for his chest that leak out in overwhelmed tears and how he knows Jason would never make him cry any other way. He remembers the way Leo had raked shaky fingers through his hair and slurred out a wobbly, Good job, Jason. So good to me.
Like always, that's what Jason is aiming for now. That moment when Leo’s eyes cross and his mind turns to mush from the pleasure. He's pretty sure they're almost there with the way Leo is sobbing into his pillow and how he weakly clutches at the sheet while his thighs shake. Still, he wants to hear the words, so he leans forward so his words are deep and raspy right behind Leo’s ear. “How’s that, baby? Is that what you wanted?”
“Y-yes. Thank you.”
“Oh, you don't have to thank me, sweet thing, not for this,” Jason croons. “I just want you to tell me how it feels.”
“Feels good!” Leo blubbers, hiding his face in his pillow. Jason doesn't like that so he growls quietly and uses his free hand to tangle in Leo’s curls and uncover his glassy-eyed expression. Leo sucks in a sharp tiny gasp of pain before he whines again. “Feels good! You feel good! Love you, love you, love you!”
And, oh, Jason likes that. That's better than any of the honeyed praises Leo could ever sing. Jason makes a rumbling sound deep in his chest, making sure to be pressed up against Leo’s back so he can feel it just how he likes, and says, “I love you, too, Leo. More than anything. You're perfect and you're mine and I love you.”
That's apparently the last straw for Leo because he stiffens again for a split second before he goes boneless and comes right there for Jason. In return, Jason coos out wordless praises as he peppers kisses all over Leo’s shoulders. He stills his thrusting in order to let Leo catch his breath, but that just makes Leo cough up a distressed wail. “Why’d’ya stop?”
Jason looks down at him curiously. “You want to keep going?”
“Please,” Leo begs. “You-you gotta. Please. I'll do anything.”
Leo is starting to sound genuinely upset now, so Jason leans forward and presses him into the sheets with his full weight, chest against back so Leo knows he's there. He'll always be there. The Fates themselves can't keep Jason away from him for too long, they've both proven that time and time again. Now it's just them, and all they have left to do is love one another. Jason hushes him gently, trailing his lips up and down the column of his throat until Leo calms down.
When Leo’s breathing is soft and even again, Jason begins to move. His thrusts are gentler now, not borderline frantic as they chased that elusive feeling together, just soft and sweet and deep. They feel so close like this, and with every breathy sigh Leo relaxes a bit more and Jason feels like he might actually become part of Leo. His lips and teeth and tongue haven't left Leo’s flesh, and he's so warm that Jason thinks he might just melt. It's soft and it's blissful and it's perfect and it's perfect.
It's just them.
When Jason finally comes, it's with a little chuffing snort-huff in Leo’s hair that usually makes Leo giggle, but now he just sighs his content. Jason lets himself bask for a moment, relishing being so very close to the man he loves more than anything, before he forces himself out of bed. As much as he loves thoroughly making a mess of Leo, he loves cleaning up that mess, too. His motions are reverent and Leo shudders in bliss that stays just this side of overstimulation. They're quiet as Jason performs this sacred ritual, other than the near-silent brush of lips, Jason both unwilling and unable to keep his mouth off of Leo.
When Jason is finally done he sits back on his heels and looks down at Leo, who just lazily smiles back at him. The hazy golden light of morning has shifted and sharpened in the time they spent together, but Leo is still just as beautiful as ever. His eyes are foggy and warm and his thick lashes fan over his still-flushed cheeks with every blink, and his curls spill across the pillow in a perfect halo. Leo meets Jason’s eye, arches a brow in half of a challenge, then stretches his arms up above his head and bares his neck in a clear sign of secure, contented submission. Jason's breath hitches in the back of his throat and he dives forward to slide their cheeks together to the tune of Leo’s perfect chuckles.
“Good morning, mi cielito,” Leo croons, his voice thick and rough. His fingers twist in the little baby hairs at the nape of Jason’s neck and he gently tugs, making Jason shudder and press even closer. “Someone apparently wanted this to be a good day.”
There's a teasing lilt to Leo’s voice that makes Jason flush and bury his face deeper into Leo’s neck, even though he's not embarrassed. Not really. “Good morning.”
Leo hums and continues to play with Jason’s hair. “Anything in particular get you all riled up this morning?”
“No, just wanted you to feel good,” Jason says honestly, nuzzling just that little bit closer. “I love taking care of you.”
“And am I allowed to take care of you back?”
Jason pauses and pulls back just enough so that he can look at Leo again. He's smiling with his whole face and he's looking at Jason like he's the most wonderful thing in the world and his eyes are full of honey-warm love. “You already do.”
Leo smiles impossibly wider and uses the hold he has on Jason’s neck to pull him down so their foreheads are pressed together. “Yeah? Good. I'm glad. I love taking care of you, too.”
Jason was helpless to do anything other than press their lips together, satisfied in the knowledge that they'd get to take care of each other forever.