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The blistering heat of summer rolled in early and the expected spring showers showed up late, creating a horrible mix of constant storms and a heavy, humid heat dome. The only reason the unbearable heat was bearable was because of the rain, and the only reason the rain was bearable was because Tim would give him anything he asked for.
Offhandedly, not even a direct request, Jason had mentioned how nice it would be to have a portion of the back patio screened off as a sunroom. It wasn't meant to turn into anything, he was just reminiscing about the one they got to enjoy during their last visit to Southern France—the villa Tim had bought for him was perfect in every way, except the lack of overhead fans.
The sunroom Tim had built for him had a remote controlled overhead fan, string lights, and enough space to put a whole living room and a hammock. All of the windows could be unlatched and opened to built-in screens. There were twelve baseboard outlets strategically placed around the room, a ridiculous quantity, making certain Jason could plug in his laptop no matter where he sat. There were overhead heaters on two of the walls, also remote controlled, so Jason could enjoy his custom sunroom even in the colder months.
The last time Tim made a comment about feeling like he wasn't doing enough, about how he felt like Jason did more for him than he did for Jason, Jason physically drug him out to the sunroom and held his hands out as if to say, See?
Jason was pretty sure that Tim would build him something to rival the Taj Mahal if he even hinted that he wanted one. He told him so.
Tim had looked at him for a beat and asked, "Well, do you want one?"
That was not the first nor the last time the sun room got used for an activity meant for the bedroom.
The rain picked up from a light patter to a heavier thrum, echoing throughout the sunroom, because the room had a damn tin roof that let Jason hear every single drop of rain. He loved it. He didn't know that he wanted a tin roof until he had one and he made a point to be under it every time it rained. The look of it was completely out of line with the rest of the Drake Estate aesthetic, and, while seeing it for the first time, Jason had told Tim so.
"Yes, well. You loved the one in Thailand," Tim reminded him, like remembering that one tiny detail of a mission they suffered through three years ago wasn't a damning proclamation of love.
Jason had looked at him, looked back at the sun room Tim paid to have built while he was gone on a mission with Roy, and looked back at Tim. Jason came back from the ass end of South America and got surprised with a whole entire addition to the house. "You love me," Jason had told him.
Tim shrugged like it wasn't a big deal and agreed, "Yeah."
That was the first time they fucked in the sunroom.
The sunroom was more of a multipurpose space than either Tim or Jason expected it to be.
They had hosted family brunch out in the sunroom two weekends ago—a casual affair that involved plates on people's laps and feet kicked up on the coffee table. Tim liked to work from home in the rocking chair his father used to use, and Jason thought it was good for him to spend some time in the sunlight instead of under fluorescent office lights. Jason almost exclusively graded papers on the coffee table, and the hammock was rated to hold their combined weight for midday naps.
And every single time it rained, Jason found himself on the porch. He had learned to stop taking the nice headphones Tim bought him out with him, he never put them on. He just wanted to listen to the rain.
The door clicked open and Tim's soft footsteps stopped right behind Jason's chair. He finished typing out the nicest correction he could (Please reread the rubric, paying special attention to the formatting expectations, and resubmit this assignment before Friday) and waited for Tim's hands on his shoulders.
And waited.
And waited. He hit Submit and dropped his head back, looking at upside down Tim. "Do you hate me?"
Tim's handsome face twitched up into a smirk. "I do not."
"You aren't touching me," Jason told him, instead of, Please touch me.
Tim hummed and set both his hands on Jason's shoulders. He pressed his thumbs into the muscle lining his spine and stretched his fingers out, touching as much of him as he could. "I didn't want to interrupt your work," Tim said softly. He tightened his grip on Jason's shoulders just briefly, squeezing affectionately, as the rain picked up. It rattled the tin roof and echoed against the brick veneer of the mansion.
Tim spoke up, just enough to be heard over the rain, "I'm always surprised you can hear yourself think in here."
"Think?" Jason teased, "There's no thinking happening." He pushed his head back into Tim chest, putting the barest hint of pressure into it, and looked up at him.
Fond affection curled under his chest, warm and pleased. Tim so handsome, he always had been, but the Tim Jason had fallen in love with had softened with time. Jason was particularly fond of his faint crows feet wrinkles and the hints of gray at his temples, and was certain he could take a fair amount of credit for both.
Tim cupped the bottom of his jaw, gently stroking down his throat, and mouthed, You're so handsome.
The corners of Jason's mouth twitched up. He whispered, "I was just thinking that very same thing." Tim's pleased grin crinkled the corners of his eyes and Jason could see the honest warmth and adoration as much as he could feel it in his own chest. Jason pulled his head back up onto his shoulders, set his laptop on the coffee table, and held his hands out on his lap, a silent Come here.
Tim did so, easily and gracefully. He stepped to the side of Jason's chair and slid into his lap like he belonged there, because he did.
Jason settled his hands on Tim's hips in the same place he always did as Tim smoothed his his hands along the bottom edge of his jaw. Jason's eyes fluttered closed as Tim threaded one hand into Jason's hair and cupped his face with his other hand, stroking over his cheekbone and pleasantly pulling on every nerve in his scalp. Jason relaxed the weight of his skull into Tim's waiting hand, completely content to let Tim hold his head where he wanted and touch him as he pleased. He passively thumbed at the sharp edges of Tim's hips, just for the sake of touching him.
Thunder rumbled around them and the rain hit in a constant hard, heavy thrum on the roof. Jason smoothed his hands under Tim's shirt and along the soft skin stretched over his ribs and got a pleased hum for it. He felt Tim's nose brushed against his, teasing, and Jason didn't have to open his eyes to find Tim's fond grin with a slow, lingering kiss.
Tim ran his fingers through his hair and held his face as he kissed him, and kissed him and kissed him, and pulled back only once to whisper, "Love you," before he pressed back in again, kissing him.