The groan of protest that comes from Raylan is almost pained, joined by the trembling of his body at the denial but he doesn't try to hold Tim there, hands much preferring to move across his skin as he moves up. One palm moves over Tim's ass as Raylan fervently kisses him back and he smirks at the greeting. 

"Very good," he murmurs back, kissing Tim again as that hand works it's way under the waistband of his boxers. His off hand helps pull them down over Tim's backside before wrapping up to drape his fingers at the nape of Tim's neck. "Almost perfect," he husks, breaking the kiss so he can roll them over, the hand not holding his weight slipping between them to pull the front fabric down to free Tim's length to bump between their stomachs.

It was dangerous to even think but god he could get used to this. Waking up to Tim, blowjobs or not, just the solidness of him something Raylan had always found reassuring. He was deadly and beautiful and a little bruised and battered, and now letting Raylan see into the most vulnerable part of him. How the soft mornings could be, before they were awake enough to let any sense or reason stop them.