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It’s quiet when Jason comes back to the apartment. Too quiet, considering Tim’s still home and should be texting persistently while pretending to watch How It’s Made. Letting the door close and kicking off his boots, he slumps the grocery bags on the counter and begins pulling out frozen packs of vegetables when he sees the note on the freezer door.

Bedroom. Say mask if you’re not feeling up to it.

He nearly drops a few pound of green beans on his foot in from the excitement. Figuring the food could survive a few hours not at freezing temperatures—and hoping whatever Tim’s planning takes longer than a few hours—Jason chucks what he has in his arms into the freezer and walks quickly to the bedroom.

The smell hits him first; something sweet and ethereal in the air. He recognizes it as incense right as he reaches the threshold of the bedroom, the air caressing his body. The smell becomes stronger as he enters the room, and damn if his mouth doesn’t go dry when he finds his lover.

Jason made a big stink about having a four-poster bed in what he remembers calling “our super-manly bedroom,” but the battle was fought, favors were exchanged and Jason happily let Tim have his ridiculous bedframe. He’s needled Tim about it here and there, but the scene in front of him officially puts a tick mark by Tim’s argument.

There’s a lithe body standing in front of one oak post, looking up at Jason. An indecently sheer swath of silver fabric drapes over a shoulder with a white ribbon belt affixing it shut in a pastiche of a toga. Something shimmery gleams from the skin exposed on Tim’s collarbones and shoulders. Jason’s eyes wander to the gilded leaves in Tim’s hair down to his wrists, which seem to be affixed to the midsection of the post.

“And what is this?” Jason questions lightly, stalking toward his boyfriend. The smaller man looks at him, slightly worried but somehow peaceful.

“Oh, you can save me!” Tim’s voice is higher and more cheerful than normal, with more of a lilt. He twists as much as he can to Jason, his restraints restricting his movements. “He sent me down here, telling me I had sinned and I needed to be punished.” His head hangs in contrition, look up at Jason through thick lashes. “Will you help me?”

Jason smirks and crosses his arms. Tim has quite an imagination; he’s walked in on a sexy maid cleaning the kitchen, taught how to properly thrust his pelvis by a trainer in tiny sexy shorts, and been frisked by Officer Sexy after allegedly jaywalking (Tim was especially proud of that one). But an angel? Jason promises to repent properly after taking what’s offered to him.

“But did it hurt?” Jason inquires, coming close enough to his angel to pluck a few leaves out of his hair. “When you fell from Heaven, that is.” He sees Tim try not to roll his eyes and stay in character.

“Will you help me?” Tim’s voice borderlines on annoyed as Jason licks a long swath along Tim’s exposed shoulder. The pale expanse tastes like honey, and Jason makes a mental note to thank Roy for that edible body dust he contributed to the White Elephant last Christmas.

“Mmmm,” Jason drawls out as he grasps his angel’s jaw in a strong grip. “If you’re here to be punished, I think I’m just the demon to do it.” He lets go, leaving Tim with a shocked, frightened look. Pressing a chaste kiss to Tim’s cheek, Jason ghosts his knuckles down Tim’s ribs. “I promise you’ll like it,” he murmurs before dropping to his knees. Large hands, still cold from the abandoned mess in the kitchen, reach out to untie the white band and quickly move as Tim shies away from the icy skin. Jason drops the ribbon and rubs his hands on his thighs, trying to oust the chill as he nuzzles against a hip.

Tim moves as far away from Jason’s mouth as he can. “You,” he starts as Jason’s warmer hands work at moving the fabric down, exposing a beautiful landscape of scar-kissed skin. “You’re not going to eat me, are you?” His concern sounds sincere; his commitment to this whole thing makes Jason smile against a thigh.

“Of course not, sweet thing,” Jason answers, keeping his tone light as he inches closer to his target. He lightly runs his fingers along the glimmering skin below his navel. “Can you trust me, little angel?” It’s a simple question, asked right as their eyes meet. Tim still has that wicked sparkle in his gaze that belies his innocent charade.

“Yes,” Tim sighs, voice catching as Jason licks a long stripe up his erection. “Oh!” he squeaks, eyes rolling back and hips jutting forward. “Puh-please keep doing that,” he pleads as the kneeling man pulls away from his worship.

“Only gonna get better,” Jason promises before swallowing all of the angel’s hardness into his throat. There’s no honey taste, but Jason prefers Tim’s skin without alteration. After a few cycles of pulling back and fluttering his throat around Tim’s cock, the bound angel begins jerking his hips harder. Jason pushes back a hip with a free hand, making Tim whine at his loss of control. Jason releases the cock with a strand of saliva before standing up, replacing his mouth with the friction of a muscle-corded thigh.

“Mmmm, nope,” Jason chides, rolling his still-clothed thigh up to meet a gasping Tim’s hardness. “You seem to be enjoying this far too much.” He leans in to nip an ear. “After all, this is a punishment, yes?” He smiles at the frantic nod he receives before reaching down to until Tim’s wrists.

Tim’s eyes are huge, curious as Jason drops the leather tie and pulls his shirt off. “Bed, on your wings,” he commands, taking the time to enjoy Tim’s ass as he climbs on the dark sheets. Jason quickly removes his jeans and socks before straddling Tim’s haunches; his lover’s pale skin scintillates off the black sheets. Tim’s irises are mostly covered with black as he watches Jason reach over to the nightstand.

“Tell me, little angel,” Jason says as he pulls two objects from a drawer, “what did you do to bring you to me?” The smaller man shifts as best he can under Jason’s weight, squirming his hips and trying to bury his face in the sheets. He hears the telltale click of a bottle and lets out a small whimper. The golden leaves in his hair scatter on the pillow below his head; Jason concedes he does look rather angelic.

“I, I-oh!” Tim exclaims as a slippery hand slowly strokes his cock, accompanied by blunt nails barely scratching the underside. His swallows hard before continuing. “I was caught watching a man please himself. He-ah, he looked so joyful, but we are not allowed to watch such a display.” His hips thrust up shallowly, trying to encourage Jason to speed his achingly slow paces. Tim’s met with a hand pushing down on the offending hip.

“My goodness,” Jason admonishes, “how sinful of such a pretty little angel.” Letting go of Tim earns him a whimper as he leans over his prey, a hand barely skimming Tim’s jaw. “Tell me, who was this lucky man?”

If Jason didn’t know any better, the sheepish look covering Tim’s face would seem genuine. “It, um,” he eyes turn up to meet Jason’s as he bites his lip. “It was you.” Damn it, he’s good, Jason thinks as he sits back on his legs, lining up both of their erections.

“Me?!?” Jason fakes as much indignation as he can while sliding a slickened hand along both cocks, letting them ghost along each other. “I feel so violated.” The last word is punctuated with a thrust from Jason, letting his cock slide heavily against Tim’s. Jason chuckles, enjoying the angel’s moaning as he swings his leg back over Tim and grabs the piece of leather he removed from the nightstand. “If you like watching so much, you won’t mind if I take care of myself.” Jason’s smile turns wicked as he snaps the band around the base of Tim’s hardness. With an equal mix of penitence and petulance, Tim moves himself up against a post at the head of the bed to watch Jason’s display.

Jason slides to the base of the bed, scrunching up blankets against the bed’s footboard to lean on as he adds more lube to his fingers. Meeting Tim’s still-sparkly eyes, he butterflies his legs and strokes his thighs with his clean hand. “So, what exactly was I doing when you watched me?” he asks, stroking closer to his cock.

Tim’s slowly losing this battle; as Jason strokes lower, his visage cracks further. “Higher,” Tim grits out, “and lower. You were touching everything.” He knows touching himself is futile until Jason removes the band. By the smirk on his mug, Tim’s not hopeful of it happening soon.

“Mmmm, sounds right,” Jason sighs blissfully as he lets his slicked hand fall between his legs. A breathy moan emerges from the foot of the bed and Tim bites back a groan. Jason’s luxuriating in his own pleasure, knowing he’s not playing fair. He rarely does, but making Tim watch him open himself knowing the next move feels less fair than normal. Especially when he sounds so damn pleased with himself.

The next few minutes of Jason twisting his torso and pinning Tim with his eyes and performance is exquisitely tortuous. Once he’s completely broken—his character and resolve fully cracked—Tim licks his palm before rubbing his own erection. “Jay—pleasepleaseplease.” The words sound like a prayer, and Jason pulls a hand forward to beckon Tim to absolution.

By the time Jason stretches out on his back Tim’s removing the offending ring and folding over him, throwing a strong thigh around his narrow waist as he pushes in. The sounds emerging from Tim’s lips pulls chortles from Jason as he hitches his hips up to meet Tim’s frenzied thrusts, fisting his own member roughly.

“Love you, fuck, love you so much” Tim manages to chant, sweaty fringe dusting Jason’s forehead. Jason pushes up onto his free hand, dipping his lips down to steal a binding kiss. He feels Tim’s hip start to lock, thrusts coming more frantic. A lick to a sharp cheekbone opens Tim’s eyes, and a quick nod from Jason draws a pained groan from Tim as he finally comes, still thrusting as he pulls Jason over the edge with him. Tim smashes his lips to Jason, sobbing as he presses kiss after to kiss as he comes down.

Fingers pushing through his hair pull Tim back, tilting his chin to rest on Jason’s damp chest and smile down at his lover. “Hi,” he’s barely able to breathe out. Jason snorts back a laugh before giving a light push to Tim’s hip, eliciting a weak protest before Tim slowly removes himself and sighs with the lingering high from his orgasm. He flops back down on the bed, feeling Jason leave the bed and hearing footsteps going to the bathroom. A soft towel lands on his flanks, and he wipes himself before throwing the now-offending flannel on the floor and rolling on his stomach splayed out.

“Now you’re making snow angels on my bed?” he hears an amused voice before feeling the bed dip, a warm hand rubbing on his back. Tim finally wills his eyes open and pushes himself up to Jason’s torso, letting the muscles arms wrap around him. Jason clears some stray leaves from the pillows before curling up around Tim. “Where did that come from, angel?” he asks softly, carding a hand through Tim’s hair. “Colin finally get to you?”

“No, Dick did,” he mutters, “some TV show about angels and demons and unfortunate he keeps making me watch.” He yawns as he squiggles into a comfortable position to let sleep wash over him. “I’m sexier than those angels on there anyway.”

“Of course,” Jason smiles, their breathing synchronizes before he drifts off clouded in the faint smell of honey and incense.

The next morning Tim grouses about the ruined veggies on the kitchen floor, but Jason sends him off to the market with a slap on the ass while he cleans up the mess. Tim acquiesces, but stops outside market to order a plaid shirt and a Stetson on his phone. As he browses the produce he figures a nice farmhand drawl can’t be too difficult to pull off, especially not if he can first hogtie Jason on the bed.