Archive of Our Own

Gritting his teeth, Luis braces his hands against the grasping claspers of one of the twisted Plagas insects that seem to fill every square inch of this disgusting cavern. He’s strong enough to keep the bug from snapping its mandibles closed on his flesh, but only just; it strains and hisses at him, a horrendous rasping screech like tearing wood. Flecks of fluid fly out of the insect’s gaping mouth, and burn where they touch his skin.

Before his racing mind can consider how he’s going to escape this predicament, however, the Novistador screams in agony as it goes flying out of sight, hitting a wall to Luis’ right with a sickening crunch. He stumbles forwards, still tense, and bumps directly into who’s filled the space instead: the one and only federal agent Leon Kennedy.

Leon is panting heavily when Luis falls against him, shoulders heaving and eyes wide and wild. He doesn’t even look askance when Luis uses his arm to steady himself, staring at the insect as it curls up and bursts in an explosion of putrid slop. It’s only when Luis pushes off and coughs that Leon finally seems to snap out of it, turning to look at him with near-surprise.

“Gracias, my friend,” Luis nods at him with an accompanying grin, wiping the bug’s spittle from where it dots his face. His smile falters at the lingering pain it leaves behind, but when he touches his skin it doesn’t crumble, so he’ll probably be fine. “Bit too close of a call there, eh?”

“Why didn’t you shoot,” Leon asks, deadly serious, brows drawing together in their customary furrow. It’s somehow a familiar sight, despite how little time they’ve known each other; Luis can’t help but chuckle even as he resists the urge to smooth away the angry wrinkles that always appear under Leon’s eyes when he does this. Leaning down, he picks up his pistol from where it had dropped to his feet and holds it up to Leon’s judgemental gaze.

“Can’t shoot without holding it, querido. I may be talented with my fingers, but not that talented.”

Just as familiar as his scowl is the faint, lovely flush that rises to Leon's cheeks, tinting his ears pink as he hurriedly looks away. Luis bites his tongue to stop himself from grinning even harder. "Shut up. Come on, we're almost there."

He can’t help it— flirting with Leon is just so much fun. The American always stubbornly continues on through being flustered, acting like Luis’ words mean nothing to him, even when proof that he recognizes the sweet sentiments flickers in his eyes. It’s an enjoyable game to play, one that sparks equal mischief and interest in Luis’ heart.

Because really, he’d be lying if he said his playful teasing was only to get a rise out of his companion. Leon is like no one he’s ever met before, a pretty-faced soldier with a brittle shell, tender on the inside even when he tries his best not to show it. The scars from whatever it is he’s been through are plain on the outside, but even when the going gets tough, Leon squares his shoulders and pushes ever onwards. He makes Luis want to prove himself anew, to really and honestly remake himself as a good man. If Leon can make it through the pain of his past... maybe Luis can too.

He’s not exactly rough on the eyes either, Luis hums to himself, keeping pace just behind Leon and trying his damndest to not be blatant when he lets his gaze rest on the swell of the agent’s ass as he runs. Calling Leon just a pretty face is, perhaps, a disservice. The man is gorgeous; built like a lithe Greek god, rippling with hard-earned muscle along his sleek frame. In another life, Luis would have tried more than just a few teasing remarks to allure a beauty like that.

But it isn't the time. It’ll never be the time, not until they’re out of this accursed place, with Ashley wrapped up tight in her father’s arms all the way back in the United States. Right now, she is the priority, and Luis understands that Leon doesn’t have the seconds to spare for a little romance, if that’s even something he cares for at all. His thorny responses have certainly dissuaded Luis from pushing any further, though he’s softened a bit along their journey through the caverns. (Luis tries to not let those rare moments of friendliness get his hopes too high, despite how they make his heart leap in his chest like a soaring bird.)

So he shakes his head and follows Leon across the rickety wooden platforms, the malformed shape of the Plagas’ hive like a great tumor in the center of the room, dotted with sickly glowing pods. They’re almost to the elevator whose path was so rudely blocked from them not too long ago, illuminated by a sputtering lightbulb and looking much the worse for wear. The closer they get, the more Luis starts to think the thing might be broken; one of its doors is nearly hanging off the hinges, and it’s so corroded with rust that the original color of the metal is indistinguishable.

Apparently, none of that matters to Leon, or he simply hasn’t noticed. They pass by the glowing torch of that odd merchant without Leon even giving the place a second glance, utterly ignoring the low entrance they’d have to crouch to get through in favor of approaching the elevator. Thankfully, the area is free of Novistadors for now, a welcome reprieve. It’s not enough good fortune, however, for Luis to avoid hissing through his teeth when they finally come to a stop in front of those deteriorated doors. “That, eh... I hate to mention it, but...”

“...No, it’s fine,” Leon replies, but he waits too long to say it. Even still, he shoulders past his obvious doubt, flinging open the door and taking one step onto the rickety machine. It makes a hideous noise under his weight, metal screeching reverberating through the cavern, and Luis hears a disconcerting tinny ping that he’s fairly certain is the sound of metal cables snapping.

Immediately, he darts forwards, grabbing Leon by the strap of his shoulder holster and pulling him back with as much strength as he can muster. The elevator shudders as Leon is dragged away from it, but doesn’t fall, not quite yet. “Oye, Leon! Do you want to get yourself killed?!”

Leon knows he’s right— Luis can see it in his eyes as he lets go, letting the agent regain his footing. Still, it’s not exactly an easy pill to swallow. They both know there’s no other way forwards but up through that elevator shaft, and neither of them could possibly climb all the way to the top. Baring his teeth, Leon looks like he wants to punch something, but settles with balling his fists at his sides. “We can’t just... just stop! Ashley—”

“I know, I know,” Luis splays his hands out in front of him, placatingly. “But this won’t work. I mean, what good are we to the princesa if we step on that deathtrap and end up a metal pancake?”

“I just... Fuck! Do you know how to fix it?”

“You’re asking a man with the wrong kind of doctorate, cariño.”

“What, didn’t you build that machine that’s supposed to save us?”

“Not by myself! Besides, medical equipment and industrial elevators are two different—”

“Evenin’, gentlemen.” 

They’re both cut unexpectedly short by the heavy accent of a familiar voice. Leon and Luis both turn in unison to see none other than the mysterious merchant, wares clanking together as he walks leisurely towards them. It’s the first time Luis has seen him not on the other side of a makeshift table, and he seems strangely small now that he’s not ensconced within boxes of his deadly merchandise. “Havin’ a bit of trouble, are we?”

Luis is still uncertain about this man— he’s never been a threat before, but without truly knowing his intentions, he can’t help but be wary around the merchant. Leon, surprisingly enough, does not seem to share his reticence. He props his hands on his hips, clearly annoyed. “Yeah, we are. Elevator’s busted, and it’s the only way out of here.”

“Hmm, so it seems.” The merchant steps between them, appraising the broken lift with an expression that Luis can’t exactly judge through his hood. “...You know, my skill with repairs doesn’t start and end with just weaponry, stranger.”

Luis tenses, already prepared for the man to name an exorbitant price for his services despite how welcome his offer is. He’s a little low on pesetas, and he’s got a sneaking suspicion that Leon isn’t exactly liquid right now either. But Leon’s eyes brighten immediately. “How much?”

The merchant goes quiet for a moment. Luis can feel his eyes linger, first on Leon and then on him. It makes his skin crawl, but he must pass whatever he’s being inspected for, because the merchant just shrugs and begins to rummage in his coat for something, already approaching the broken elevator. “Slide us a packet of those resources you carry, and we’ll get it done. Call it a bonus for my best customer.”

“Really?” Luis mumbles, more than a bit shocked. It can’t be that easy... But Leon is already rummaging in his case, and pulls out a fabric-wrapped bundle of metal scraps.

“That’ll do just fine,” the merchant chuckles, taking it from Leon’s hand even while his other is pulling out unnamed tools from his bottomless pockets. He makes his way towards the elevator, humming quietly; Luis thinks he recognizes the tune, but he can’t quite place it.

After a few moments of awkward silence as both he and Leon stare at the merchant, Leon crosses his arms over his chest, already looking impatient again. “So, how long is this going to take?”

“Hour or two,” the merchant replies easily.

That’s not acceptable, and they both know it; Leon’s eyes go wide and he steps forwards, anger rising in his voice. “Two hours?! We don’t have that time to waste!”

“Leon...” Luis murmurs, trying in vain to interject. He isn’t sure Leon even hears him. In front of them, the merchant pauses, tilting his head back just enough that one of his glowing eyes is visible. 

“It’s that or no elevator, mate. Repairs take time.”

“You...” Leon takes another step forwards, and now Luis is really worried. He grabs Leon’s shoulder as quickly as he can, managing to keep him in place even as he ignores the dirty look the other man shoots at him.

“Gracias, señor, truly. We are both in your debt, and we’ll leave you to your work now.”

“Luis,” Leon hisses angrily, but Luis just tightens his grip in warning and plasters his fake smile on harder. The merchant looks them both up and down again and snorts, turning back to the elevator.

“Much obliged. If you gentlemen want to lay low for a while, you can stay in the shop. But I’d best see all my wares exactly where I left them when I come back, am I understood?”

“Perfectamente,” Luis grins, and starts to steer Leon back towards the low passage some turns behind them. “You’re too kind!”

“And if anything’s soiled, you’re payin’ for it!” 

Before Luis can really comprehend what that could be implying, they’ve turned a corner and the merchant is out of sight. Leon rips his shoulder from Luis’ grasp a second later and glares at him with unmitigated fury, blue eyes sparkling with rage. “What the fuck, Luis!”

“Eh, eh! You were getting carried away, and we need that elevator, sí?” Luis pokes Leon in the chest. “What’s the use in pissing off the only man who can help us?”

Leon bares his teeth in a silent scowl, and Luis pulls back, immediately expecting the agent to fire back like usual. But instead, he closes his eyes, exhaling harshly through his nose before reaching up to run a hand through his tangled bangs. “I... You’re right. Shit. I’m sorry, it’s just... I hate being trapped, leaving Ashley up there all alone.”

When he opens his eyes again, Luis is still starstruck, staring at him in open shock. Leon frowns, but it’s not as fierce as before. “...Why are you looking at me like that?”

You trust me enough to admit when you’re wrong, Luis’ brain supplies. You trust me enough to apologize too, and it means more to me than it should. But he can’t say that, there’s no way he can say that, so instead he smirks and hopes that it looks natural. “Nothing, galán. You’ve just never told me that I was right before.”

He knows, of course, that he’s giving Leon an out— it would be easy enough for him to fire back at that comment, to identify his flirtatious teasing and tell him to shut his trap. Luis fully expects the other man to take it. But instead, Leon gives him a look he can’t identify, cautious and maybe just a bit playful, and one corner of his mouth twitches upwards in a wry smile.

“Be right more often then,” Leon quips, and begins to walk back down the rickety path, leaving Luis standing with his arms akimbo and the very distinct sensation that he’s about to topple over. It only takes him a few seconds to spring back, however, heart leaping to his throat with excitement. Leon's just given him something, unnamed and tiny and fragile but undoubtedly something, and Luis practically bounces with eagerness as he hurries to catch up. 

“Slow down! You don’t want to leave me behind, do you?”

“I will if you can’t keep up!”

The merchant’s cave really isn’t that far behind them, and they reach it quickly, ducking under the low passage to get inside. Luis ruffles his own hair when he straightens up in the open cavern, trying to shake out any rubble. He fears it’s a lost cause, but there’s only so much grooming one can do when lost in the labyrinthine tunnels of an ancient insect nest. 

“Home sweet home,” Luis sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face before letting his arms fall to his sides. It’s really not much— some expanded divot in the wall, still craggy and rough-hewn in construction. Boxes and palettes are scattered about, old mining equipment gathering dust in corners, and the merchant’s weird purple flame casts everything in an eerie blue hue, deepening the shadows to thick pitch. Still, it’s peaceful, safe, and gratifyingly quiet. Luis has spent a few hours in far worse places than this.

Across from him, Leon seems restless. He paces the perimeter twice in as many minutes, then seems to get stuck, hand clenching and unclenching on the butt of his gun in a random, anxious rhythm. Luis studies him out of the corner of his eye as he goes to find somewhere to rest his weary legs, settling on a row of boxes that don’t look too fragile. After brushing the dust off the top and hopping up, he leans back on his palms, watching Leon openly. There isn’t much else to look at, and if he’s being honest, he’s still glowing inside from what happened just a few minutes ago. It bolsters him, brings a gentle smile to his lips that’s too soft to be just teasing. 

In fact, it’s enough confidence for him to speak up, drawing Leon’s attention from his stubborn staring. “Hey, relax a little, Yanqui. We’re safe in here, and we have some time to spare. Let those hackles down, eh?”

“I hate being cooped up like this,” Leon mumbles, thumb running up and down along a seam in the metal of his gun. “If it wasn’t for that damn elevator... Makes me feel like I’m not doing anything useful.”

Luis cocks a brow and gestures towards the entrance to the cavern. “Well, if you want to go see if there’s any more of those overgrown mosquitoes left, be my guest. Just don’t expect me to join you.”

And, much to his surprise, that exhilarating twinkle returns to Leon’s eye. He turns to face him, arms crossed over his broad chest, and Luis’ stomach does backflips. “What, you don’t want to protect little old me any more?”

“A big, strong man like you can hold his own against a few bugs, I think. Unless... you want to be protected, mi príncipe? Because that can be arranged.”

Flirting with someone has never felt so electrifying before, so heady in Luis’ lungs as he leans towards Leon and rakes his eyes over his body, not for the first time but certainly more intense than he’s ever tried. Apparently, Leon can’t give it as good as he takes it— his cheeks flush red again and he averts his gaze, wandering aimlessly to the side to feign interest in a stack of boxes to Luis’ left. But, if Luis isn’t mistaken, he’s trying, honest-to-God trying to flirt back, and it makes every inch of his body run fever-hot. He no longer hides his grin as he watches Leon fidget uncertainly in place.

When he speaks up again, however, his voice is subdued. “I can’t really relax, not while I'm on a mission. All the adrenaline gets in my bloodstream, makes me tense. Can’t do anything but crash a day or two later.”

That certainly doesn’t sound healthy. Luis tilts his head, smirk fading. “A day or two? Do you not sleep?”

“Not ‘till the crash hits me. Then, bam—” Leon spreads his fingers. “Out like a light. I usually just spend the interim doing my paperwork.”

Luis’ heart sinks in his chest, and he takes in Leon’s face again with a new perspective. The bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin... he’s already beautiful, but how beautiful would he be if he was healthy? If he was allowed to rest, to have that great, impossible weight lifted from his shoulders? Luis aches for him.

With the mood officially somber, at least for the moment, Leon seems to have lost the fire that motivated him before. He resumes fidgeting by himself, quickly turning to his attaché case and rummaging through the items, propped up on one hip. Luis studies him, looking at the truly impressive stash of loot he’s obtained over his trip. Enough bullets for a full armory, a set of kitchen knives for close encounters as well as the hefty one Luis has seen on his shoulder, not to mention a healthy amount of herbs...

Inspiration strikes him lightning-sharp. He digs through his own pockets, turning up less than he would have liked, but still, he could have sworn he had some left— ¡Allá!

Out comes a sheaf of thin, somewhat crumpled paper. It’s not torn, thankfully, so Luis smooths it out, drawing it between his fingers. He can feel Leon’s eyes on him again before he even looks up to shoot him a toothy grin. “Could you spare a green herb from your stash, mi querido?”

“Huh? Oh, sure,” Leon hands one over, and Luis takes it gratefully.

“Gracias,” he hums, and with the paper trapped safely between his thighs, begins the process of stripping the leaves from the stem. Leon is obviously deeply curious now; he puts his case away in favor of staring at Luis, brow furrowed as he tries to figure out what he’s doing. It’s not until he starts shredding the leaves with his nails— it’s better when they’re dried, but he’s smoked fresh before— that Leon seems to realize what’s going on.

“Green herbs can do that?” he asks incredulously, looking somewhat skeptically at the little pile of torn-up foliage propped on Luis’ knee. It’s enough for their purposes, so Luis nods, pulling the paper out again and licking it over. He doesn’t miss how Leon averts his eyes at the sight. 

“One of their many miracles,” Luis says, packing in the leaves and rolling the little paper cylinder up tight. Next comes his lighter, twirling between his fingers like an old friend, and he sets to sealing it with a deft touch. “I need to relax, you need to relax. So let’s relax, eh?”

“Absolutely not,” Leon replies, crossing his arms again. “Are you joking, Luis? We don’t have the time, we’ll be leaving in an hour or two, and I refuse to go out and fight when I can’t think straight! We’d be asking for it!”

Luis had been expecting this admittedly understandable point of contention. He finishes sealing the joint first— not his best roll, but it’ll do— and picks up the stem from where he left it lying by his side. “Ahh, you’re missing something. You’ve eaten herbs before, right?”

“Yes, but...”

“And you didn’t get high, did you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see what—”

Held between his fingertips, Luis interrupts Leon by reaching up and dangling the stem in front of his eyes. “That’s what most people don’t know about this marvelous little plant, cariño. The leaves have psychoactive effects when consumed, but the tannins in the stem cancel those effects out. When we’re done, all we’ve got to do is chew on the stem, and we’ll be sober in no time.”

Leon doesn’t look entirely convinced. But he is standing closer than ever before, gaze flickering from the joint to the stem to Luis’ face, wanting to relent but not quite sure if he should take the bait. 

“Look, Leon,” Luis says, trying to make it easier for him. “You don’t have to. I’ll smoke it myself if you don’t want it, and then you’ll be able to make fun of me as I make an ass of myself. Deal?”

That, at the very least, gets Leon to chuckle, the faintest little exhalation. He stares at the joint again, and then seems to come to a decision, sitting down next to Luis with a slight grin on his face. They’re close enough that their thighs are touching, a wall of warmth along Luis’ side. “You do that easily enough on your own. The least I can do is be an asshole with you.”

This man, Luis thinks, not for the first time. He has a creeping suspicion that it won’t be the last, either. His heart kindles low and warm in his chest, filling him up with sunlight. Flipping the lighter between his fingers with practiced grace, he holds up both it and the joint. “I’ll do the honors, then?”

“Such a gentleman,” Leon murmurs, but he’s still smiling that tiny bit, so Luis takes it as permission. He lights the end of the joint and takes a deep drag, filling his lungs with the aromatic smoke. A bit of tension sloughs off his shoulders almost immediately, and Luis realizes he was gunning for a smoke anyway, after so long without one. This doesn’t hit in quite the same way as tobacco, but it’s still good.

He keeps it in his mouth for a few seconds before exhaling, a thick cloud rising from his lips, tinted purple by the merchant’s weird light. Leon takes it from his hand when he offers it, and mimics his actions, blue eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he inhales. It gives Luis the perfect opportunity to study him again, the smooth curve of his throat and the ridiculously thick eyelashes resting on his cheeks. He decides to blame the butterflies in his stomach on the drugs, and nothing else.

Unsurprisingly, Leon coughs a bit when he exhales, though not nearly as much as Luis thought he would. He doesn’t complain when Luis thumps him on the back, but waves him off and passes the joint.

“So, Sancho,” Luis drawls, letting his second hit dissipate in the air. “You’ve smoked before?”

“Not in a while,” Leon answers. Luis thinks he sees the line of his spine relaxing, though it could be a trick of the light. “Work does drug tests. Besides... s’ not usually my style.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I drink a lot. Helps me forget. Grew up Catholic too, so you kinda know what wine is from infancy. And they were pretty strict that drugs were the devil."

Luis laughs at that, shaking his head in fond recognizance even as he passes the joint back to the other man. "Ahh, of course. It's a wonder men like you and I smile at all. They tell us everything worth loving in life is the devil— drugs, dancing... sex."

He doesn't miss the flash of blue eyes darting to his face at that, carefully judging him. A trail of smoke ebbs from the gap between Leon’s lips as he inhales, curving briefly over his cheek before it rises in a cloud towards the ceiling. It just barely makes him unreadable, the haze clouding the air just as much as it clouds Luis’ mind, but what he sees excites him. Everything about Leon excites him, makes him light up reckless and eager and desperate to know more, and he feels deliciously greedy now that he’s finally being given a chance to do so.

Leon doesn’t cough this time. He simply exhales and crosses his legs, one over the other, so he can prop up his chin on one hand. His gaze lingers, almost physical in its intensity, tracing the movement of the joint to Luis’ lips. “Of course. What was it you said? That you’re ‘quite the ladies’ man’?”

“Well, I am!” Luis puts his hand on his chest, mock-affronted, until he has to take the joint back. “You don’t believe in my prowess? And here I was, thinking we were friends.”

“Shut up,” Leon replies, but there’s no bite to it. He goes oddly still, just staring with half-lidded eyes and thinking of something that’s impossible to tell. Luis lets him, and takes a hit. The eye contact is so easy to keep.

Eventually, Leon breaks it. His face changes in some indescribable way, and he turns his head to watch Luis out of the corner of his eye, through the curtain of his bangs. After a long pause he takes the joint when it’s passed to him, rolling it between his fingers. “...Ignore me if I’m wrong, will you?”

“Won’t know if you’re wrong until you ask, but sure.”

“You said... you’re a ladies’ man.” Leon pauses, pursing his lips ever so slightly, but he doesn’t look anywhere else. “...does that mean you haven’t been flirting with me the whole way down?”

A thrill runs up Luis’ spine, white-hot like liquid fire. He doesn’t even try to stop the grin from spreading over his face as he leans in, knocking his shoulders against Leon’s, suddenly giddy with unexpected joy. “That depends. Did you want me to be flirting with you the whole way down?” 

Leon finally brings the joint to his mouth, eyes flicking elsewhere, but they’re so, so close. Luis can see the flush, high on his cheeks, dusting the curve of his ears. He inhales long and slow, letting the silence build, and smoke curls from his lips when he speaks.

“...Maybe I did,” he mumbles, and Luis’ heart flares like a firework.

It’s perhaps a bit too early to be testing the waters, but the concept of empty space between them is appalling. Luis leans in further, lets one of his hands wander to alight on the swell of Leon’s thigh, nowhere too bold yet but teasing at the possibility nonetheless. It’s hard to tell in the torchlight, but he thinks Leon’s blush goes just a bit darker. “I was, hermoso. All the way down and before, too. How could I not? It’s not every day one meets Prince Charming.”

“Stop it,” Leon protests, but he’s smiling. He holds out the joint, and Luis takes it, deliberately lingering so their fingers touch for longer. Leon doesn’t shake him off.

For a slow moment, Luis examines the joint, turning it over much like Leon had only moments before. The end softly smolders, still glowing ember-orange, and flakes of ash fall when he rotates it. He can feel Leon watching him, waiting for him. Luis’ hand is still on his thigh.

“You know...” Luis hums. “There’s more than one way to relieve stress with these.”

“Oh?”

“Do you want me to show you, cariño?”

“...Please,” Leon murmurs, and Luis’ heart races in his chest.

He brings the joint to his mouth and takes a long hit, the hand on Leon’s thigh coming up to cup the agent’s cheek. Leon lets him do it, allowing Luis to tilt his head closer, pliant and agreeable in a way that makes that liquid fire in his gut strike down between his legs. He inhales until Leon is brought closer than he’s ever been, sharing the same air, lips ever so slightly parted. Luis can see the fractals of his irises, the way his pupils are blown in the low light, their noses almost touching. He looks beautiful. He looks like everything Luis has ever wanted.

Leon makes the faintest noise when Luis brings their lips together, like a sigh of utmost relief.

Despite how reticent he’d been, nervous to reciprocate and even more nervous to try anything more, Leon opens his mouth immediately, pressing in closer as soon as he can manage. Luis exhales into him eagerly, trying not to push, but suddenly Leon’s hand is at his neck and he’s tilting his head into the kiss, drawing Luis deeper as if he’s giving him oxygen and not smoke. It’s all Luis can do to keep his head above water.

A cloud of haze emerges between them as they part, gasping for clean air, still only inches away from each other. Leon’s eyes are heavy-lidded, panting softly in Luis’ arms, hand still curled just under his ear, and Luis can barely stand it.

“Dios mío,” he breathes, and Leon smirks. It’s all the warning he gets before a second hand comes up to pull him back down into another bruising kiss.

Where Leon was hesitant with his words, his body speaks. He locks their lips together with feverish intensity, fingers darting up to tangle in Luis’ hair, tight on the back of his skull. The joint falls forgotten from Luis’ fingers as he scrambles to reciprocate, grip landing on Leon’s waist to further close the space between them, nearly chest to chest. Every muffled sound he swallows from Leon’s hungry mouth makes his dick twitch, arousal sparking like wildfire through his veins. Never in his wildest dreams had the other man been this receptive, this desperate to be touched, and Luis feels dizzy when they finally break.

“You’re incredible,” he gasps, fingers so tight around Leon’s abdomen that he’s certain he’s going to leave bruises. Barely in control of his faculties, he spots the line of Leon’s bare throat and dips his head down, pressing kisses to his skin and feeling him shiver.

“Hah— Luis,” Leon pants, and his hips twitch involuntarily. “God, God, God, God—”

“That’s it, querido,” Luis whispers. He can’t resist— he bites down, ever so gently, and his eyes practically roll back in his head as Leon moans. 

They’re all tangled up in each other now, awkwardly shifting to accommodate their sprawling legs in a bid to get even closer. Luis wants nothing more than to do so, but the position they’re in isn’t forgiving, and it doesn’t take long for him to get fed up. “Aghk— Leon, Leon, mi amado, I need you to—”

“Yeah, I— I see it,” Leon says, and Luis is just about to ask him what he wants to do when there’s suddenly a black-clad leg being thrown over his thighs. He blinks, and his lap is full of Leon, arms looped around his neck for stability. Luis thinks he might just pass out from how much blood is rushing to his dick.

“This good?” Leon asks, which seems like an understatement when it’s describing how shockingly incredible Luis’ life is right now. Frankly, he doesn’t have the words to express it himself, so he settles for snaking an arm around Leon’s back to kiss him again. The other man moans into Luis’ mouth, and his dick— desperate for stimulation— takes control for a second, rolling his hips upwards into the heavy weight of Leon’s ass. 

Leon breaks the kiss, eyes wild, and Luis thinks he might see revulsion there. Any words of apology, however, are ripped out of his mouth when Leon grabs his shoulders and grinds down, pressing himself decadently against Luis’ stomach so he can feel just how hard he is. “Ah— Fuck! Do that again!”

His Prince Charming is already far ahead of him, shifting on his lap so that his ass presses against Luis’ cock all over again, mouth agape with pleasure. Luis’ hands fall from Leon’s back to grip fiercely at his hips, pulling him down every time he bucks up. Not that he needs to; Leon is more than participatory, and he meets every thrust with unbridled passion, shoving the bulge between his thighs against Luis’ abdomen and keening openly.

It’s at times like these that Luis finds his lips getting loose. He is, after all, not built to keep quiet, and rutting against Leon like a pent-up teenager is already nearly more than he can bear. The words start spilling from his mouth long before he can think to catch them. “Hah— ah— Shit, Leon, you— You’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t—”

“Yeah?” Leon rasps. His voice is huskier than Luis has ever heard it, eyes dancing with lust, blush burning on his cheeks. He grinds down again, slow and indulgent, making sure he rolls his ass against the entire length of Luis’ cock, and he’s now absolutely certain that this man is going to be the death of him. “Ahn— Don’t— Don’t stop talking—”

And if that isn’t something. Luis has heard Leon tell him to shut his trap countless times, but here he is now, grinding down into Luis’ lap with fervor, spreading his legs as wide as he can to maximize how much their bodies touch. And now, of all the times and places, he wants him to talk.

Luis doesn’t, however, at least not right away. He has to grab Leon’s face with both hands and pull him into yet another sloppy kiss first, more breathing into each other’s mouths than anything, uncoordinated and messy and unbearably perfect. Leon tastes of sweat and herbs and Luis wants to gorge himself on him. When they part, Leon looks down at him like he can do no wrong, like nothing could ever be incorrect between them, and Luis takes a gamble.

“No— No matter how many times I imagined this,” Luis gasps, “I never thought you’d be such a slut for it.”

Risky, perhaps, but Luis had a feeling, and he thanks a God he no longer really believes in when Leon trembles in his arms at the words, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat. He bucks against Luis harder, practically bouncing in his lap, and Luis grins with teeth and shifts his grip to firmly cup Leon’s ass.

“Eres precioso,” he praises, leaning forward to mouth at the line of Leon’s collarbone through his shirt. “Perfect. My perfect little whore—”

“Luis,” Leon whines, eyes screwed up tight. “Fucking— just— hah! ah!— Please, please, I—”

“Tell me what you need, mi querido,” Luis rasps. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Touch me,” Leon gasps, and Luis' hand is fumbling at the zipper of the agent's pants within seconds.

Experience has given Luis fair skill at undressing people one-handed, but he finds it a struggle anyhow. Not because he’s lost any of his skills, but because Leon, despite his plaintive begging, won’t stop moving, grinding against Luis every time he tries to get his hands into those tight tactical trousers. Luis can’t bring himself to stop him, couldn’t say no to him in a thousand years, not when Leon is taking up his entire view, staring down at him with heavy-lidded eyes and whimpering so beautifully. So he kisses at every inch of Leon’s skin that he can reach, and simply shoves his hand between them until he eventually manages to hear the telltale sound of a zipper coming undone.

Finally allowed access to where he wants to be, Luis presses his palm against the bulge in Leon’s boxers. The noise he’s rewarded with makes his skin prickle with arousal, Leon crying out with abandon and shoving his hips down further into Luis’ grip, wanton and stunning. “Oh, fuck— Yes!”

“Good boy,” Luis whispers hoarsely into Leon’s neck, and curls his fingers around the other man’s cock, rubbing him over his clothes from base to tip. Gratifyingly, he feels a wet spot against his palm, and it’s enough to make him moan in time with Leon’s mewling— he can’t stand it, knowing that Leon got this way because of him, is leaking into his boxers because of the pleasure they’re sharing. Luis nips at Leon’s jaw, speeds up his pace, and ruts his hips up.

“God, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—” Leon groans. His arms are looped around the nape of Luis’ neck, eyes screwed shut, and as Luis rubs his thumb over the obscured head of his cock, he grits his teeth and leans down, to rest his forehead on his. This close, Luis can feel Leon’s hot breaths fanning over his mouth, making gasping little noises every time he bounces up and down. “Luis— Luis, please, please— More—”

“Of course,” Luis replies, and he can hear the way his own voice is quavering. “Any— anything for you, mi príncipe—”

He slips his hand under the waistband of Leon’s boxers, wraps his fingers around the length of his dick, and pumps him once, slowly. Leon shudders in his arms, biting his lip to muffle a cry that seems determined to claw its way out from between his teeth. Luis knows his hand is still dry, so he runs his grip gently up to press his hand to the head, wetting his fingers with precum as best he can. The moment he does, Leon bucks into his grip, thighs clenching around Luis’ hips.

“You’re so eager,” Luis breathes, moving his hand back down to slick Leon’s cock before he returns to thumb at the tip, smearing precum over the heated flesh. “So hungry for it, Leon... Are you always this much of a slut, or am I special?”

“Don’t stop,” is all Leon says, and his dick twitches in Luis’ hand at his words.

“I don’t know which I enjoy more, corazón,” Luis purrs. He barely knows what he’s saying any more, but whenever he speaks, Leon falls apart more. After all, had the other man not begged him to talk not long ago? Just watching Leon drive himself to ecstasy has Luis seeing stars. “After all, you spread your legs so quickly for me...”

“Hah— Luis—!”

“Come on, Leon, tell me what you need—” His hand is soaked now, and he pumps Leon faster and faster, the slick noise of giving the other man pleasure echoing in the room and making Luis dizzy. “Anything you want, mi querido, and I’ll give it to you— You’re such a good boy, such a good boy for me, tell me what you need—”

Luis has focused all of his energy on moving his arm, his fingers, on giving the man in his lap the ecstasy he deserves, that when hands come up to cup his face his breath catches in his throat with surprise. Above him, Leon’s eyes are burning hot, blonde strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, mouth agape as he slows his ceaseless grinding but doesn’t quite stop. He looks ruined, and Luis thinks that he could stare at him like this for the rest of his life.

Once Leon is sure that he’s being seen, he crashes their mouths together in a kiss so intense that Luis has to briefly pause in stroking him off, just to keep up. They don’t stop, not until Luis jerks away, gasping for air, because one of Leon’s hands has fallen from his face to cup his aching dick. He’s ignored his own arousal for so long that the pressure on his crotch is nigh-unbearable; he whines low in his throat and thumps his head on Leon’s broad shoulder as the other man explores him, quaking with need.

“Need to touch you,” Leon pants. “God, I fucking knew it— Let me suck you off, please—”

The noise that Luis makes at that is positively mortifying, but he doesn’t even care, not when there’s finally a broad hand stimulating him, making him bounce Leon on his lap more with the force of his involuntary thrusts. He nods feverishly, and Leon must feel it, because that blessed pressure disappears a moment later. Luis’ eyes snap open, and he’s about to complain when Leon slides off his lap and down onto the floor, pushing his legs apart with single-minded intensity. 

“Mierda,” Luis whispers, long and slow, as he gets to see the incredible sight of Leon S. Kennedy on his knees, staring at his dick with the unending thirst of a man who’s been wandering through the desert for years. Never in his life did he think he’d be gifted such a glorious thing as Leon’s fingers working quickly at the zipper of his dusty jeans. 

Undone by the attention, Luis shifts his hips closer to Leon’s face, sighing in relief when his pants are finally unzipped and he’s no longer trapped in unfriendly denim. Leon wastes no time pulling his boxers down too, and his cock finally bobs free in the chilly air, a bead of precum already gathering at the tip. 

But, despite how desperate he is, Leon doesn’t immediately set to work. He wraps his fingers around Luis’ length first, jerking him off slowly, almost thoughtful in his movements before his eyes flick up to the man above him. There’s a question in them, one that Luis can’t read, but it swiftly fades to be replaced once again by that searing hunger.

“Don’t stop talking,” he says, and leans in to lick him from base to head.

Luis whimpers at first, a hand instinctively darting forwards to grab Leon by the hair as he presses his tongue against him, wet and sloppy. He seems to like it, however; Luis just barely catches the sight of his dick, still hard and dripping between his thighs, twitch in interest at the rough treatment. It makes a smile pull at the corners of his mouth, sly and heady with the power Leon’s placing in his grasp. It makes him burn even more fiercely inside.

“You want me to talk, eh? Mm, but you make it so hard,” he hums, doing his best to keep his voice steady but failing briefly when Leon finally opens his mouth and swallows him, just the first inch or so. “Ah— Look at you, my beautiful little slut. The things I want to do to you, hah— and you’d take it all with a smile, wouldn’t you?”

Luis’ words take effect just as he wanted them to. Leon moans around his cock, gripping the base so he can lick his way further down. Saliva gathers at the corners of his mouth when he bobs his head, the wet heat of his tongue coming up to lick away the precum that’s dripping from the head. Luis tightens his grip in Leon’s hair, and he swears he sees him shudder.

“Bet you can go all the way down, can’t you, cariño? Will you do that for me? Be a good boy and choke on my cock?”

Leon whimpers. Ignored for now, his own dick twitches as yet more precum spurts onto the floor, and he continues with increased vigor, swallowing Luis with spit running down his chin. He’s almost at the base now, covering what isn’t in his mouth with his fingers. Luis actually thinks he might do it.

“Precioso,” he praises, bringing his free hand down to wipe away some of the spit from Leon’s lips with his thumb. Leon opens his eyes to blink up at him, the torchlight catching the sparkling beads of tears in his thick eyelashes. Luis wonders if he can make him cry. He kind of wants to find out. “Such a pretty face, Leon. You’re so pretty when you’re on your knees.”

With a muffled, plaintive sound, Leon screws his eyes shut again and, in one smooth movement, shoves his nose into Luis’ happy trail. It’s so fast that Luis can’t do anything but cry out, feeling the muscles of Leon’s throat flutter around him, and for a dizzy, dangerous second he’s afraid he’s going to come. Reflexively, his hips drive forwards into Leon’s mouth, and the man under him moans so deeply that Luis can feel it up his spine. Blinking away the stars in his vision, he grins, and tightens his fingers on the back of Leon’s head.

“Of course you like this,” Luis teases, slowing his pace so that he’s starting up a shallow rhythm, giving Leon the chance to pull off. Naturally, he does not. “You wanted this the whole time, didn’t you, puta? Wanted me to fuck your throat until you cry?”

“Mmm,” Leon hums, eyes hazy with pleasure. They roll back in his head when Luis speeds up his pace, rolling his hips into his welcoming mouth, over and over and over again. Leon’s hands find purchase on his thighs, gripping him to stay in place.

“Eres perfecto,” Luis sighs, lightheaded with the sensation, the lust roaring through his blood, the slick, wet sound of his cock fucking into Leon’s mouth. “Hah— You feel so good, so good, mi Leon— Could do this forever, want to fuck you stupid, cum down your slutty throat and make you beg me for more— ah—!”

He manages to open his eyes, just a sliver against the overwhelming bliss that threatens to consume him, and he sees Leon’s go wide, sparkling with some new realization. Then, he gasps when Leon pulls away suddenly, his dick twitching in the cold after spending so long in the heat of his mouth. “Ay— Leon—”

Luis can’t interject any more than that, because Leon surges up, kissing him for what feels like the millionth time, just as good as every one before. Luis tastes himself on Leon’s tongue and it makes him whine, locking their lips together even closer, filthy and incredible. When he leans back, breath short in his lungs, Leon looks up at him with stars in his eyes, flush high on his cheeks and a single silver tear tracing its way down his handsome face. Luis reaches forwards and wipes it away without even thinking about it.

“Fuck me,” Leon pleads, and Luis blinks.

“What?”

“I said, fuck me,” Leon repeats, and he bucks his hips up against Luis’. His erection brushes the line of his stomach, just shy of rutting their lengths together. “Please?”

“N— not that I’m not willing, but we need, ah, lubrication—” Luis is once again cut off by Leon reaching down and rummaging in his belt, hanging loosely halfway down his thighs. He returns with a pocket-sized bottle of gun oil, colored the drab olive green of American military supplies, and something in Luis finds the idea of spending government dollars on this incredibly amusing. Leon shoves the bottle into his chest.

“Ah, is that— safe...?” Luis protests weakly. Leon frowns at him, eyebrows drawing up in a scowl so familiar that Luis finds himself rather in love with it.

“It’s good enough,” he insists. He grinds his hips forwards yet again, this time bumping his cock against Luis’ and it takes all his strength to not cave immediately. Leon, for his part, starts nosing at his neck at the pause in his speech, practically vibrating with tension. “Please?”

“I don’t have a condom,” Luis says, pathetically. Leon tilts back, eyes flashing, and Luis barely has time to react before he’s being pushed flat on his back by strong arms, Leon looming over him with all the authority of a commanding officer.

“You want me to beg?” He growls, teeth bared. “I’ll beg. I need you to fuck me, Luis. I need you to fuck me until I can’t think about anything but you. Use me until my legs give out. Pin me down and make me come on your cock like a bitch, I fucking need it, please.”

The fight Luis was putting up was already paper-thin; he was only protesting for the sake of propriety, caring somewhere in him about Leon’s well-being. He was already about to give in. Listening to him beg, though— he feels his cock jump, arousal firing like lightning down his spine. 

Leon looks a bit uncertain once he closes his mouth, blushing hard at everything he’d just admitted, but he stays strong, glaring down at Luis and daring him to keep complaining. His chest heaves, hair swaying as he pants, dick slowly dripping between his thighs. He’s dirty and debased and desperate for it, and in the deepest part of Luis’ chest, the lust that’s been burning him alive trembles and morphs into something sweet at the sight.

Reaching up, Luis extends his arm to gently brush a strand of Leon’s hair behind his ear, a pointless gesture when it falls back into place as soon as his fingers retreat, but somehow incredibly important to do in the moment. Leon’s eyes widen as he does, glare disappearing, replaced with some incomprehensible tangle of emotions that Luis can’t help but understand, in some capacity. His own gaze, he’s sure, contains the exact same.

“Anything for you, mi príncipe,” he whispers, and he thinks he hears Leon exhale, a minuscule sigh from a hidden part of him. 

Leon leans back, letting Luis wriggle free, bashful in the face of whatever had just happened. Luis isn’t even sure what it was himself, that bright spark he’d felt jump between them for the briefest second, but he decides to make it easier for Leon and sits back up so he can catch the other man by the neck and drag him into an intense, open-mouthed kiss. They’ve shared so many by now, it feels almost ordinary, a soothing ritual to smooth over into what they’re about to do next. Luis leans back and licks his lips.

“Where do you want me, Sancho?”

Appropriately calmed by the return, somewhat, to old standbys, Leon snorts at the nickname, but doesn’t protest it. Instead, he shuffles over, leaning on his forearms on the boxes next to where Luis is still lounging, ass in the air and pants falling to crumple at his feet. He rests his head on his wrists, watching over Luis as he stands up, gaze lingering on his still-hard cock.

Luis comes up behind him with reverence. Being offered such a tantalizing gift demands that he linger, at least for a moment, so he does. He trails a hand up the line of Leon’s spine, rucking up his shirt to his armpits, and feels the other man tremble when he brings both to spread his fingers over the smooth curves of muscle on display. With so much of his skin bared, Luis can see the network of pale scars, scattered freckles and moles, the way he shines with light perspiration despite how chilly it is down here. Leon lets him look. One blue eye peeks at him through a curtain of hair as he traces all those tiny details with adoring fingers.

“Do you want me to take care of you, querido?” Luis asks, touch finally falling to Leon’s hips, thumbs just barely pressing into the meat of his ass. He trembles and nods, and in reward, Luis dips his head to kiss one of the bumps of Leon’s spine. His heart feels too big, too big for his chest, too big for his ribs; he half-expects it to beat out of his body and fall on the floor. So he shifts his grip again, kneads his asscheeks decadently, and Leon makes a strangled noise. “Where’s the oil?”

Leon holds it up, and Luis spends a bit of time figuring out how to unscrew the cap before he manages it, drizzling the stuff over his fingers until it drips from his nails and Leon’s let his silence finally fade in exchange for hunger. He wiggles in place, trying to draw Luis’ attention back where he wants him. “Hey, hurry up.”

Luis laughs, grabbing the meat of one asscheek to spread him open, dick jumping at the swell of plush muscle in his hands. Slowly, as to not hurt him, he runs the pad of his index around Leon’s rim, deliberately teasing, letting the excess oil trail down his perineum. “Ay, ay! Patience, cariño!”

“I’ll be patient when you’re— ahhhn,” Leon moans, cutting himself off midsentence when Luis takes pity and pushes in, trying to take it slow. He slides in to the first knuckle, watching Leon carefully for any sign of discomfort, but apparently his attempt to be sweet is unappreciated, because Leon thrusts back onto his finger, drawing him in deeper than he intended. “Hah— fuck! Fuck yes, oh God...”

“Ah, there he is,” Luis coos, deciding to roll with it and thrusting his finger in all the way, which gets Leon to throw his head back to cry out. He draws his thighs together, clenching around the digit inside of him, and Luis starts to piston his hand, fucking Leon open with short, sharp movements. “So eager for me. Be a good boy and take what I give you, eh?”

He accentuates the last sentence by smacking Leon’s ass, and is then extremely grateful that they’re alone, because Leon keens so loudly he sounds like he’s being murdered. Luis reflects that maybe such a thing shouldn’t serve to make him even harder, but with Leon writhing under him, meeting him for every thrust of his fingers, he thinks it doesn’t really matter. So he focuses entirely on stretching the man below him, pressing kisses and teasing nips to the broad expanse of Leon’s back. Eventually, he gets close enough that his dick bumps Leon’s thighs, smearing precum over his legs, and Leon babbles something unintelligible as he tries to make it happen again.

“Another,” he gasps, already sounding fucked-out, caught, kept. “Please, please— ah! Please, Luis, please, another one, please—”

“Cualquier cosa por ti,” Luis grunts, and grants his request. He scissors him open, and Leon practically collapses, rendered a panting mess under his fingers, all his energy going to spreading his legs wider and begging for more, more, more. Luis didn’t want to rush this, wanted to make sure Leon would be safe, but the fire inside of him burns brighter with every pleading syllable that falls from Leon’s lips, every ripple of muscle around his fingers. His dick aches between his thighs, desperate to reach the main conclusion, and Luis isn’t sure he can wait much longer.

To try and put off the inevitable, Luis crooks his fingers, searching for a spot he knows will make Leon crumble, although he’s already so much of a mess that he can’t imagine what finding it will do to him. He twists his wrist a bit, angles himself differently, and knows he’s hit the mark when Leon goes ramrod stiff underneath him. He can practically see the shiver crawling up Leon’s body as he wails, loud and throaty, and his untouched cock twitches between his legs.

“Hah— the sounds you make, mi amado,” Luis groans. “Let's hear that again, eh?”

As if it’s his only purpose, Luis drives his fingers into Leon’s prostate again, and again and again and again. Every time, Leon screams his throat raw, fingers going white on the edge of the boxes as he forces himself back, begging for more. Luis gets lost in it, the sweet sound of Leon moaning for him with each movement of his hands, the muscles rippling around his digits. In fact, he gets so hypnotized that he’s mildly surprised when something snaps forwards and stops him around his wrist.

He looks up, and Leon is staring back at him, face flushed almost entirely red, tears thick on his eyelashes but not quite overflowing. “Hah— ah— I’m— I’m ready, put it in, fucking God—”

Luis cocks a brow, and thrusts his fingers in again, a little less harshly. “You sure? I think—”

“Put your cock in me now!” Leon snaps, and Luis scrambles for the gun oil again.

After slicking himself up appropriately, Luis braces himself on the boxes, rucking his dick up against Leon’s ass, running the head over his hole just to see him squirm. Leon is underneath him, framed and pinned by his arms, all that lethal military muscle at his mercy. He can see half of Leon’s handsome face, dotted with sweat, blue iris barely visible against the wide expanse of his blown-out pupils. 

Overwhelmed with affection that comes from someplace far too close to his heart, Luis reaches forwards to brush the hair out of Leon’s eye. It’s too much— too tender, too gentle, too loving for a moment like this. But he does it anyway, and for the briefest second, Leon leans into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“You’re stunning,” Luis whispers. “Podría mirarte para siempre.”

“Please,” Leon replies, just as hushed. And Luis could never say no.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Luis groans, long and slow, as he pushes in, already almost at his limit. Leon bites his lip so hard that Luis spots what he thinks is a dot of crimson bubbling up under his canine tooth. The boxes don’t seem like a good perch any more, not when he has all of Leon at his disposal, so Luis gets halfway before he shifts himself to grip the other man’s hips bruisingly hard and go the rest of the way. Both he and Leon give twin moans when he bottoms out, hips against ass, lost in heat and pleasure, and Luis falls to drape himself over Leon’s back, lips just brushing the shell of his ear.

“You feel so good, mi príncipe,” he murmurs, not moving just yet, just letting himself press his cheek against Leon’s neck and listen to both of them breathe. Leon whines, almost inaudible when it’s deep in his throat, and wriggles his hips just a little further back, making Luis’ fingers clench tighter on his skin. 

“Fuck yes,” Leon whispers. “God, you’re so fucking— ahhn—”

“Are you ready?”

“Fuck me,” Leon replies. And that’s as good an answer as any, so Luis takes his time, inching back until he’s almost pulling out— and then, in one short, sharp movement, thrusting all the way in.

He had thought that Leon was loud before, but now Luis discovers a shocking truth: somehow, he was wrong. When he thrusts back in, Leon screams, flinging his head back and howling with such pleasure that he almost seems like he’s going to pass out. He clenches around Luis’ cock, hot muscle giving way to bliss, and Luis isn’t going to last, not like this. So he does it again, slamming back in with wild abandon, and watches Leon unravel.

It takes a few tries, but Luis finds his rhythm; the idea of pulling so far away from that scalding heat drawing him closer frustrates him quickly. So he finds something a little less intensive, fucking into Leon short and sharp and as hard as he can manage, only going halfway before ramming back in. Every thrust sends electricity up through his nerves, blinding him to anything but the man underneath him, the way he writhes and whimpers and begs Luis to fuck him harder, faster, deeper, more. He fulfills every single demand.

Leon’s mouth loosens so quickly, Luis can barely keep track of it. Over the sounds of flesh-on-flesh, Leon babbles a constant stream of desperate, blissed-out nonsense, eyes rolling back up in his head as he gets his grip underneath himself and starts fucking himself back on Luis’ cock, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Each thrust punches a gasp out of his lungs, hitching his speech in time with their rhythm. Luis has to tune most of them out; at least, he does until Leon makes a strangled, high-pitched whine and looks back at him, tears streaking down his cheeks. “Ah!— ah!— Please— hah!— Please, don’t stop— hah!— don’t stop talking—!”

So lost in the give and take, Luis realizes with a cold shock that he’s fallen silent, focused entirely on fucking him. It makes him preen, knowing that Leon missed his voice so much, and he purrs as he leans over, not pausing in his rhythm for even a second. “Ah— Lo siento, I was so enchanted by you I forgot how much you love my pretty words—”

“Luis—!”

“You’re being so good for me, mi corazón,” Luis coos, trying his damndest to speak clearly through his punishing thrusting. “Such a good boy, ah— Tell me what you need, Leon, tell me what you want—”

And, as if pulling it from the very depths of his heart, Leon throws his head back and cries:

“I— ah— I want— I want to take you out to dinner!”

Luis stops. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t help it; he freezes in place, eyes wide, mind halting everything in an effort to cope with what he’s just heard. He wants... to take me out to dinner?

Leon, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice Luis’ poorly-timed petrification, rambling on what seems to be entirely his own inertia. “I can’t— I don’t want this to be it! When we’re out of here, I— please, I just want— I want to see you again! Oh, God, yes—”

Luis has been burning with a desperate flame this entire time. He’s let it consume him, thought it was a ceaseless inferno, aching for Leon and the desire to bring them both crashing down. But now, it melts into kerosene and bursts anew in his chest, roaring twenty times as bright and loud, remaking him as he’s always wanted. He wants to see me again. He wants to see me again!

Snarling, Luis unfreezes, throwing himself over Leon’s body and burying his teeth in the other man’s shoulder. The new angle makes Leon wail, spine curving in a perfect arch, and Luis starts fucking him with an intensity he never even thought he possessed, each thrust striking deeper and harder than the one before. One of his hands slides underneath Leon and finds his dripping dick, untouched for so long, and starts fisting it in time, causing a chorus of moans and desperate cries to echo through the cave, each one making his head spin with arousal and what he doesn’t dare call love.

“Yes,” Luis growls into Leon’s neck, letting go of his shoulder and gritting his teeth as he feels the other man start to fall apart. “Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” 

“Oh fuck!” Leon howls. “Luis— Luis, I’m fucking— I’m coming! I’m coming— hah, ah, ah!”

“Good boy— good boy, Leon, go on, come for me, mi príncipe—”

“Luis!” And he does, coming into Luis’ hand, moaning long and sweet before he collapses, boneless, against the box below him. He gasps faintly as Luis continues, trying to catch his own breath and slow down his pace, but before he can do what’s polite and pull out, Leon looks back at him.

Leon is handsome, beautiful, gorgeous, stunning— but he’s never looked at Luis like this, fucked out and happy, a true, genuine smile gracing his lips. Tear tracks shine on his cheeks, flush still high, mouth ever so slightly open as he breathes heavily, coming down from his climax. Like this, he looks like an angel. Luis doesn’t even feel worthy to stare.

“Come inside me,” he whispers, voice raw and scratchy, and Luis can do nothing but what he says, groaning low in his chest and fucking his hips into Leon one last time.

And then it’s very, very quiet.

There they are, sweaty, bitten and bruised. Luis pulls out, watching his cum follow, dripping over Leon’s thighs before he averts his eyes, trying not to get excited all over again. Instead, he drops to his knees and rummages through Leon’s utility belt, still pooled with his pants down at his ankles. He finds a rag he thinks is probably for cleaning his knives somewhere in there, and holds it up, apologetically.

“Ah... Leon? Can I...?”

Leon tilts his head, buried as it is in his arms, to take a look. “Hah... yeah, I have a spare.”

Luis cleans him up gently, and Leon lets him, shifting when he places a soft touch on an arm or leg, mumbling confirmation to each other when they need to and falling into comfortable silence when they don’t. For once, the lack of talking between them isn’t stressful, isn’t tense, but soft. Luis finds he likes it much better this way.

Leon takes a bit to come back to himself, but finally bares his claws again, in a way Luis now knows doesn’t mean anything cruel, when he tries to help him back into his pants. Leon snorts and flips himself around, pulling the fabric up over his legs. “Buzz off. I can put my own clothes on.”

“Alright, alright,” Luis spreads his hands, then reaches down to take care of his own zipper. “Damn me for being courteous, I suppose.”

“You’re full of it,” Leon replies, but his voice is tender. Luis fixes his appearance and looks up, at where Leon is leaning against the box, casual as can be. The only sign that anything had ever happened is the faint marks along his neck— left there by Luis’ teeth, and already starting to bloom into bruises.

“Did you mean it?” Luis blurts out, before his nerve can leave him. “I mean, about the whole. Dinner, thing.”

Leon looks him over again, in a way he did what feels like forever ago now, before all this. If Luis squints, he thinks he can see some of the flush darken, just a shade, on his cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah, I meant it.”

“I did too,” Luis replies, quietly, and Leon blinks twice before he smiles.

“Oi! If you gents are done in there,” shouts a voice from outside the cave. Both of them jump, and then Leon chuckles, standing on his feet and brushing himself down.

“Break’s over.”

“Looks like it,” Luis says, and walks over to stand by Leon’s side, looking down at him with something new, he thinks, in his throat; something he can’t say yet, but who knows. Maybe he will some day. “Well, Sancho Panza, shall we go to the Princess Dulcinea’s rescue?”

“Let’s.” Leon looks back up at him, and Luis sees himself in his eyes. Something new, unspoken, but nevertheless there. Not for today, and not for tomorrow. But soon, he hopes. Soon.

He steps on the long-forgotten joint as they leave together, and crushes it under the heel of his boot.