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Dawn seeps a strip of light over Timber’s eyes when he wakes.
For now, all he can acknowledge is that his eyelids are heavy. He furrows his eyebrows gently, arms weighty against the bedsheets but all in all, empty. Timber scrunches his exhaust drenched face as his eyes adjust to the light. While his arm tries to wake itself up in a still manner, Timber recognises the gap between his arm and the rest of the bed.
Anyone who shares a bed with Soarin Skies is either warned that they’ll most likely wake up with an armful of him or they’ll unfortunately (or maybe not, actually) find out once they rise. So it’s a surprise to Timber when he looks over, bleary-eyed, to not see a Soarin Skies curled up into him. There’s a faint hint of disappointment and rejection that sits in his chest before he rolls over and catches the culprit of stealing his morning snuggles.
It’s one of Soarin’s plushies that he, honestly and kind of shamefully, doesn’t remember the name of. Soarin has his cheek cutely pressed into the fluff, arms wrapped tightly around it. Whatever sour energy that annoyed Timber awake seeps away and endearment replaces it easily, soothing and tempting his head for another hour’s rest.
Soarin’s body sleeps nearly soundlessly. The silence of their bedroom allows Timber to hear his calm breaths as his eyes outline the fluffy strands playfully disobeying the direction the rest of his hair sits in. As he takes a look at the silly plush in Soarin’s arms, he curls his lips into a pout, huffing quietly and reaching out for it.
Timber knows he deserves the morning cuddles more than a plushie. It won’t even be able to appreciate the unconditional boosts of love Soarin gives from his hugs.
His boyfriend clutches onto it tighter when he somehow realises what’s going on past his closed eyes. He makes an adorable muffled whine that fills Timber’s mind with serotonin, almost making him regret pulling the plush away from him. But when one more tug brings the plush out of Soarin’s dreary arms, Timber tosses it to the end of the bed (maybe; he might have underestimated his strength but oh, well) and shuffles a little closer.
Timber lets Soarin do the work from there, his arms gently flailing around for something else to cuddle with, a sleepy pout forming on his lips at the disturbance. After a few cute tries, he successfully slides his arms around Timber’s middle, a little awkwardly until Timber nears him. Those same lips meet the skin of his neck, same soft lips that tickle his numb and weak muscles. Timber has half the mind to move a little more but he ends up clinging onto Soarin instead, instantly revelling in the squeeze Soarin gives him as he throws a leg over Timber’s hips.
The little hum Soarin lets out wraps a blanket around Timber, filling him with an alarming amount of fondness rather than warmth in this already warm morning. He slides further down the bed a bit so they’re almost face to face. Soarin’s more curled up in his sleep, making himself tiny.
This is what love feels like, right? An overwhelmingly good amount of delicate emotions filling him up at the simple sight (well, is it really a simple sight if it’s Soarin fucking gorgeous Skies?) of one of his loves.
Timber gingerly raises a hand, a finger to brush the misbehaving strands of hair away from Soarin’s forehead. His finger then joins the rest as they slide down Soarin’s temple, his cheek, his jaw. With a bit more force, not too much than before, he cards a hand to properly fix Soarin’s sleep-ruffled hair. The same temptress from before tries to persuade him to pamper the boy’s face with pecks.
He settles on a forehead kiss. A faint press of his lips, only slightly damp from his tongue in the morning. The sound comes just as quickly as it goes. Timber rubs his free hand over the boy’s shoulders, down his back and holds in a chuckle at the unconscious shiver escaping Soarin.
Morning heat increases what he assumes is today’s weather. It’s only the start of summer, so he doesn’t entirely blame Soarin’s choice of a dark blue cotton jumper for bedwear. His arms do move around in a poor attempt to roll his sleeves so Timber does it for him. (Does it for the only arm he can reach without pulling himself out of his Snuggle Session, that is.)
It seems as though that wakes Soarin up because he’s groaning softly into Timber’s neck and clinging tighter. He noses Timber's neck and Timber stills as a trail of fluttery emotions travel down to his navel. He hears a faint swallow and the slightly sharp intake of breath before he feels the gentle flitter of Soarin’s eyelashes by his jaw.
He pulls back to see sleep-heavy emerald irises in doe eyes, blinking at him so cutely Timber has to hold in a squeal.
“Hi,” Soarin whispers and Timber’s breath leaves him.
“Hey,” he greets back, equally as quiet and tender. They stay silent while they bask in each other’s calm, all before Timber decides to open his mouth. Nothing comes out though, because Soarin latches his nimble fingers onto Timber’s t-shirt collar and tugs him close.
His open mouth receives a kiss that he eagerly returns, as eagerly as he can while still sleepy. The kiss returns to chaste ones as Soarin presses into him more, noses nudging, fingers roaming around the field of love they’re covered with. Timber finds himself in a peaceful trance like he’s in the clouds when he kisses Soarin. Nothing tremulous – except, maybe when the touches turn lighter and make him squirm in delight – and he almost feels like he woke up in heaven.
A desperate little sound slips from Soarin’s lips and Timber sighs as he kisses him again. This may still be a dream but he’s not complaining; it has the atmosphere of one, delicate colours decorated with curtain-patterned sunlight, Timber loses himself in the feeling of a stress-free environment, forgets even where he is in the moment.
Some shifts in the bedsheets from neither of them bring them out of the world they’re in, followed by a morning-raspy hum and then a whine. Timber’s eyes fall to the boy behind Soarin and then realises they hadn’t been pulled out of their world. Someone’s just joined them. Peeking at them from behind his arm shyly, Timber can catch Flash Sentry’s pout from where he is and he knows what he wants.
Soarin turns over too and giggles, voice dropping in and out from a whisper. He flips back to face Timber, unlooping an arm from his waist and reaching blindly out for Flash’s body. He latches on more successfully than he did when he was more sleepy and tugs Flash hard, pulling their Leader flush against his back to spoon him.
Flash nuzzles Soarin as a thank you, gladfully wrapping his arms around and hugging him. Timber can’t help the smile that forms. He catches a familiar glint in Flash’s eye, sort of surprising since he’s always exhausted when he’s forced to wake up but again, he doesn’t complain so he leans in to plant a kiss on Flash’s lips. Soarin giggles under them. Flash tilts his head and opens his mouth, kissing Timber with a little more fire than Soarin.
His boyfriend leaves Timber’s lips after a while, nice and warm, probably red too knowing him. Timber’s eyes outline the smile Flash gives him, outlines the little dimple in his cheek, pecking it not a second after. Flash’s giggles heat his heart as he pulls back and rests his head on his pillow.
Soarin grins dreamily, content with sandwiched between them too while Flash uses this time to snuggle closely with them. Normally, it’s Timber in the middle, being the youngest, and while he loves it, this is a nice change. Hugging both of them like this doesn’t have any downsides.
They stay like this. Comfortable. He sneaks endeared looks at his two boyfriends basking in comforting light. His two boyfriends, oh God. That still needs to settle in after, what, years of being together, yet he can’t believe it sometimes. He thinks about them in this silence, how lucky he is to have them right here in his arms and how they’re with him even after all these years. He fears the thinking will turn south quickly but the cosy air doesn’t allow that; all that enters is the secret giggles the two share and the teasing pokes they give Timber’s side.
Flash’s ringtone tears them out of the moment and said boy groans, reluctantly turning over to snatch the device off the bedside table. The atmosphere crumbles as the mist from the sunlight fades slightly. Soarin turns to lay on his back and he lets out a loud sigh, which Timber hopes their manager doesn’t hear over the phone.
“—yes, they’re awake, we’re coming—” Flash says, presumably getting cut off by their manager. “Oh, rescheduled? Okay. Yeah, sure. Ah—all right, fine. That’s fine too. ‘Kay. Right, see you.” He ends the call and tosses the phone to the end of the bed, which Timber can now see does not hold Soarin’s plushie that he threw. Oops.
Instead of climbing off the bed on the empty end as a normal person would do, Flash crawls over Soarin’s limbs. He just manages to get his outer leg over Timber before he yanks Flash down onto him.
The yelp Flash lets out and the lack of distance between their faces has Timber flustered for a bit, unable to continue his plan when his pretty boyfriend is right there so he can’t stop the playful swat Flash gives his bicep as he escapes. Timber watches him practically sashay away to their bathroom, carefully acknowledging Soarin resting his cheek on his arm.
It tickles when Soarin nuzzles him to get his attention. Timber giggles and then tumbles into a fit of laughter when a, now properly, wide awake Soarin attacks him, sharing his snickers like they were teenagers again, laughing over the stupidest things.
Another noise, this time a voice Timber loves to no end, interrupts them from the echoes of their washroom.
“My babies, I love you but get your asses out of bed or I’m leaving without you.”
“You wouldn’t!” Soarin shrieks through his laughs.
“Try me.”