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“Howdy, handsome.”
Chris Redfield looked up from where he’d been pouring into the bright screen of his smartphone, and his already tense expression deepened into an unamused frown.
“Who the hell keeps letting you in?”
“Take a wild guess,” the other man, dressed like a cowboy, grinned. He sat down heavily on the couch besides Chris Redfield and adjusted the hat on his head. “Should’ve known you’d be skulking around in the dark trying to escape from having BSAA mandatory fun as per usual.”
Chris only grunted in response and turned his austere attention back to the screen of his phone. Doing his best to ignore the sandy-brown haired man staring up at him.
“Why’d you even come to the party, Chris?” He wondered aloud, only vaguely aware of the raucous noise and music from the other end of the event hall in the hotel, of the hundred or-so bodies milling about drinks tables and cheering and laughing.
“Can it, Leon. I’m not in the mood for you tonight.”
Leon S. Kennedy smirked at Chris’ immediate frank response. Chris might have the voice of a commander, but he’d never been much good at hiding the expressions on his face as they arrived. The deep furrow of his brow as he concentrated on not even glancing at the DSO officer, the firm press of his lips, determined not to say more than what was professionally necessary.
“You came all the way here,” Leon continued, mock inquisitiveness in his voice, “and you didn’t even dress up for the BSAA’s costume party? You here outta duty, partner? Or were you hoping I’d turn up again?”
Chris’ eye twitched, and he switched off his phone. And finally, finally, he turned his tired face toward Leon Kennedy. Gruff and untrimmed, the rugged Western hero Leon had always seen on TV growing up. But he knew the real hero was just a tired man isolated by his career and by his inability to seek out others. It was what made picking on Chris Redfield so much fun he’d go out of his way to do so.
“What do you think?” Leon asked, lips peeling back to show his sly grin, leaning back to allow Chris to observe his costume – cheaply thrown together on the way here. Boots and blue jeans, a flannel thrown over a white vest. The hat – of course – the crowning jewel. Fake leather. His hand slipped down to his belt and he gripped the buckle to pose for a moment, just to force that slight, brief crinkle of amusement at the corners of Chris’ eyes. And then it was gone again as the man turned away to face the party once more.
“You look ridiculous.”
Leon raised an eyebrow at Chris’ equally poorly thrown together, crumpled attempt at a suit he’d no doubt shoved in his suitcase in a hurry before catching his flight over to New York. Shirt a little bit too tight, clearly it was an old suit, and the top few buttons strained slightly over the breadth of his chest. Suit pants too short, and his ankles were visible over the top of his socks. But it was the untied tie thrown over his shoulders and the jacket laid out over the arm of the couch that really sold the deal of a man frustrated by his own attempt to fit in.
Not that it really mattered to Leon what Chris was wearing. There was nothing really that’d change his face, or Leon’s carnal interest in him.
That had been a new feeling he’d discovered not long after they’d taken on Glenn Arias together. Before that point he’d known Chris in name only, the almost-super-soldier the BSAA struggled to keep on a tight leash. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment he’d turned, and finally seen Chris properly, and saw himself reflected back. Perhaps it had been that first time they’d wound up in bed together, or the handful of times after that. Always leaving in the morning hungover and bitter without so much as a text in-between.
“You’re piss-poor at lying, Chris, y’know that?”
For a moment it seemed Chris wasn’t going to respond. Until he dropped his head with a brusque sigh and rubbed the stress-groove between his brows with a forefinger. “Of course I know that. If you wanted to be at this god-damn party so bad, quit bothering me and go keep my sister company.”
Leon laughed. Knowing better than Chris did that Claire was already more than occupied with Jill Valentine on the dancefloor. But Chris never had been much good at picking up on blatant budding romance, particularly when it came to himself. Equal parts frustrating as it was amusing.
“I’m not much good as a cowboy without a horse,” he nudged Chris, “c’mon boy I’ll ride you over to the watering hole. They’ve got some alcohol-free punch I might’ve sampled on my way over.”
“Quit it.” Chris snapped a little this time, shooting Leon a much angrier look than before. Leon held his gaze, and once again it was Chris who broke contact first, turning away and rubbing his face in his hand. “Sorry. Long day.” His apology was gruff and uncertain, and Leon almost pitied the guy for being so readable when he was giving his best efforts to hide his exhaustion.
“Chris?” He sat up properly, lightly skirting his hand over Chris’ shoulder, before clasping it firmly. “You’ve got a room booked here at the hotel, right?”
“I told you, Leon, I’m not in the mood.”
Leon’s fingertips lightly pressed into Chris’ shoulder, and he leaned in just a little closer, until he could see Chris’ nostrils flair slightly, and his eyes dart sideways to look at him. Soft and curious and frustrated he couldn’t be more honest with himself; or admit that even Leon’s scent was enough to arouse him from his perseverance for self-flagellating misery.
“You’re a piss-poor liar, Chris,” Leon chuckled again, peering up at Chris from below his hat and not letting the man look away again. He laid his other hand on Chris’ knee, squeezing the tense muscle below the dark cotton fibre. “You’re tired, and both you and I know there’s only one way of getting those voices in your head to shut the fuck up.”
Chris quickly shoved Leon’s hand from his thigh, looking around nervously as if anyone would’ve been able to see. Leon had never pried into Chris’ sexuality, didn’t matter. But Chris was always nervous of public displays of affection, afraid perhaps, of the glass persona he’d built around himself of that great Western hero. His reputation being one of the few things in the world he had the ability to control – and still it was fragile, and opaque to anyone who didn’t possess the eyes to see through it.
Leon stood, and grasped the loose ends of Chris’ tie to playfully tempt him up onto his feet.
“Leon,” Chris expressed, sounding lame and grey, “are you trying to make me angry?”
“You need an excuse to be, don’t you?” Leon winked, “c’mon now, before I have to lasso you to the god-damn elevators.”
The ride up on the elevator seemed to take a lifetime. A slow, silent crawl up twenty, thirty flights of floors. The two men stood with a good amount of distance between them – one stoic and dark in his rumpled suit and unkempt short-cropped hair. The other whistling to himself as he leaned against the back mirror, tapping his boot in time to the tune, skirting his eyes slowly up the back of Chris Redfield’s long legs, to the slight roundness of his ass accentuated by the illegal tightness of his pants.
“Were you always this sleazy?” Chris asked him, without turning around, “or did you hit your head in San Francisco?”
“I dunno, something about you is just pretty inspiring, Redfield.”
Chris turned his head a little, the palpable air of tension so thick Leon wasn’t quite sure if the older man was about to turn and drive his brass-knuckle fist into his face or shove him to the mirror and suck him dry. Half of him hoped for both. Unfortunately Chris didn’t seem to share in his whimsy and stayed silent for the duration of the ride up to his floor.
They were barely into the hotel room when Leon slammed Chris up against the wall, grasped him firmly behind the neck and kissed him. Frantic and hungry, biting Chris’ lower lip until the brunette grunted and parted his lips, large hands grasping Leon’s biceps and tugging him in closer still. Stumbling a little as Leon’s right hand dropped to grope him through his suit-pants, a smirk on his lips as he felt the twitch of excitement, tongue sliding into Chris’ mouth before the brunette had a chance to resist.
Fumbling for the zip, Leon let his teeth drag over Chris’ tongue, curling his inside again to glide up against his palette, knee between his legs grinding up gently into him. He whispered, tense with desire against Chris’ lips as the man kissed him again; “I missed you, Chris.”
And Chris groaned, soft and guttural as Leon squeezed his cock in his pants, before sharply pushing him away again. Panting, lips glossy.
“Don’t push it,” he growled, tearing away from Leon to go grab a bottle of ice-cold water from the small fridge.
“The hell am I pushing, Chris?” Leon asked, frustrated, “you’re the one who let me come to your god-damn room. I know you’re not about to tell me you brought me up here for a game of fucking chess.”
Chris ignored him, crouching down to grab a bottle of ice-cold water from the fridge to crack open and down.
Leon clicked his tongue, throwing himself down onto the plain, white double bed, his hand automatically stretching down to the shape of his semi-stiff cock tucked into the waistband of his boxers beneath his jeans. “You really not gonna take responsibility, Redfield?” He palmed himself, leaning up on one elbow as he stared across the room at the man taking an extreme interest in the interior of the fridge. “You’re a tease, y’know.”
“I changed my mind,” Chris growled, “get out and go jerk off someplace else.”
“I’m not gonna do that, Chris.” With two deft fingers he unzipped himself, and tugged his cock out from its confines to let it lay up against his stomach. Light fingertips glided from the base, all the way up to the tip, before he spat into his palm and gripped his cock firmly. “Turn around, Redfield.”
He started to lazily play with his cock as Chris stood to his full height, and stubbornly turned to face him. His face twisted into complex frustration, arms crossed over his chest (the same one still trying to escape from its shirt). Leon met his eyes, and licked his lips as he squeezed himself and began to stroke his cock properly. Long, slow strokes from base to tip wet and slick with his saliva.
“You really have no idea the effect you have on me,” he murmured, thumbing his slit in slow, rhythmic circles before dragging his fist down again, humming low in his throat as he peeled his foreskin back from the swelling glans, damp with his precum. He lifted his hand away, letting his stiff cock stand on its own glistening and twitching tantalisingly out from the slit in his jeans.
“You really gonna just stand there, Chris?”
Chris’ frown deepened, his brown eyes still stubbornly set on Leon’s face. He didn’t need to say a word for Leon to grin slyly, only too able to imagine the slew of perverse cursing running through the BSAA agent’s head as he found himself unable to turf out the DSO imposter who’d somehow yet again crawled into his most vulnerable sphere.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it,” Leon said softly, spitting into his palm again before grasping his cock again and tugging himself off a few sticky, wet strokes, before lifting his hand away again with a little needy sigh. Cock furiously hard and wet in its neglect. This time, Chris’ eyes dipped down to look at it.
“I know you like to forget, Chris, but you’re the only guy I’ve ever known who knows how to suck cock like that.”
“Shut it.”
Leon licked his lips again, lowering his fist and starting to pump himself properly. Tilting his head back a little, bumping his hips up to meet his palm in lewd damp slaps. Squeezing, working the sensitive glans until he purred out a curse and drew his heavy lidded eyes up to Chris’ face once again. Satisfied to see a little pink tinge on his ears, and the impossible-to-miss size of Chris Redfield’s certified weapon straining in his too-tight pants.
“If you’re not gonna talk to me, partner, at least put that mouth of yours to good use.”
Chris’ face snapped into a brief snarl of frustration, and he grabbed Leon’s ankles, yanking him down to the end of the bed with his uncommon strength. “You’re an asshole, Kennedy.”
“Yeah,” Leon moaned, leaning back and feeling his cock throb luridly, “isn’t that what you like, Redfield?”
“Shut it,” Chris spat, but he was already on his knees, fingers curling around the waist of Leon’s jeans and yanking them down his slim hips. Leon didn’t need to say a word, watching as Chris chased the tip of his cock with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking it down hollow-cheeked to the base with a greedy growl of furious satisfaction.
“Fuck,” was all Leon could grin, not touching and letting Chris work his head up and down, slurping lewdly on his cock, tongue rolling around and dragging along the prominent vein on the underside.
He groaned softly, cock flinching as Chris pulled off and grasped it, pumping it with quick jerks of his wrist as he suckled needily on the tip, tongue swirling around desperate for the taste of Leon Kennedy’s cock. His eyes were closed, long dark lashes enough to make a gruff man pretty as he swallowed Leon down again into his throat and groaned so low and smooth and wanting it vibrated through Leon’s sternum and balls, and forced Leon to moan again too.
Chris deepthroated him, nuzzling his nose into Leon’s pubic hair before pulling away for air, saliva strung between his lips and Leon’s glans. Then he was kissing it again, breathing heavy and growling as he worked, kissing messily down the length of Leon’s cock with his tongue, sucking at the base as his rough-palmed hand worked Leon’s tip wetter and wetter, forcing the younger man to curse and grip the sheets.
“How the hell’s a guy ever supposed to forget this, Chris?” He muttered, biting the tip of his tongue as Chris’ eyes flickered open and glared at Leon – as if to tell him not to say another word – before slurping his way back to the head and dancing the underside of his tongue around it as he let more drool spill down Leon’s red, throbbing length. He took him again into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, drool spilling down his jaw as he kept eye-contact with Leon, choking softly as it slammed into the back of his throat with the intensity of his head-bobs.
“Chris- fuck…” Leon reached out, reaching out to grab Chris’ hair, but the older man knocked his hand away and carried on moving at his own intensive pace. But Leon could feel the heat building up in his gut now, and grunted, sitting up a little further and grabbing Chris’ head with both hands to yank him up from his cock. “Chris, you in a hurry? I’m gonna cum if you keep that shit up.”
Chris licked his lips, looking as if he’d been starved for cock for too god-damn long. And in an instant he’d climbed up onto the bed, straddling Leon’s hips and crushing his lips to the younger’s mouth, fumbling with his own belt.
“Slow it down, partner,” Leon chuckled into Chris’ jaw, licking the stubble and gliding his palms up Chris’ ass to his belt, helping him tug his pants down to his thighs and groaning as Chris’ hand found his cock again and gave it a quick pump. “Fuck… you’re needy tonight,” he laughed, soft and sly, before groaning lewdly as Chris kissed him again tasting like cock and spit and erotic desperation.
Leon slid a hand down into the pocket of his jeans as Chris devoured his face, tugging out a few foil packets. The noise had Chris pull back, looking unimpressed and stubborn as he snatched them from Leon’s fingers, tossing the condoms aside for the moment to tear open the packet of lube with his teeth.
“Want me to do it?” Leon offered with a wry smile as Chris slicked up his fingers. Leon’s hands were groping Chris’ ass again, spreading it open and sinking his nails into the soft, firm muscles of his glutes.
“No.” Chris grunted as he reached behind himself, and Leon could only lie beneath the big man and feel the arousal beading above his top lip and in his stomach as Chris Redfield fingered himself open to receive his cock; which was so stiff now it ached, wet and sloppy and pulsing in expectation. But as Leon reached to touch himself again, Chris gripped his wrist with his other hand and growled; “you wanted me this bad already, Kennedy, I’ll make you learn some fucking patience.”
Leon’s grin did little to hide the distinct sense that his cock was about to fucking explode unless he had some direct stimulation. In an urge to distract himself, he skirted his fingers up Chris’ chest, unbuttoning the white linen and stroking his palms greedily over the man’s developed pecs, and thumbing the deep sensual grooves of his abdomen. Leaning up, he licked over one of Chris’ nipples, scraped it with his teeth and sucked it gently, tongue teasing the tip of the little bud as his fingers toyed with the other.
“Ngh… don’t…” Chris muttered, but his hand was on the back of Leon’s head, letting the younger man suck his nipples as stiff as his cock as he uttered little grunts and whimpers from his own large fingers opening himself up.
“You’re too god-damn sexy Chris,” Leon groaned, glancing up at Chris’ face contorted in furrowed, stubborn eroticism. “Jesus Christ, you’re fucking sexy.” He kissed Chris’ nipple again, moaning as his tongue rolled over it before biting down on it gently and tugging, just to make Chris whimper in his delicious, smooth low tone. Underneath the bulk of this man Leon always felt so small and insignificant, as though the God of War himself was perched sweating and cursing and moaning on his lap.
But when Chris opened his eyes to gaze at him with that distinct soft look of a desperation for connection – one that Leon had only ever seen in his own reflection – Leon realised it was no fucking coincidence things had ended up this way.
Leon was breathing heavy now, hips straining to buck up and grind his cock into Chris’ abs and rut up against Chris’ own cock – huge and hard and drooling slightly at the slit. It was tempting too to grab it properly and stroke him, but as he slipped his hand down to do so Chris hissed between his teeth.
“Hands to yourself Kennedy.”
“Why, gonna cum if I touch it?”
Chris groaned weakly, trembling as Leon’s fingertip drew a slow little circle around the wet glans. “Y-yeah.”
Leon groaned in his throat at that, almost in disbelief that someone so blunt and unromantic could be so fucking hot. And that Chris Redfield was so pent up that even giving another guy head was enough to kick him to the brink of his orgasm.
“We’ve really gotta start meeting up more,” Leon murmured, leaving Chris’ cock alone to squeeze and massage the man’s firm thighs, unable to peel his eyes away for a second from Chris’ face. “I’m surprised you don’t self-combust between our rendezvous.”
Chris grunted – maybe a laugh – and reached over to grab one of the foil packeted rubbers.
“You’re such an asshole,” he said again, grim and grateful as he brought the packet to his teeth and tore it open and pinched out the condom. “And why’ve you still got that stupid fucking hat on?”
Leon, who had forgotten he was dressed like a cowboy, quickly brought his hand to his head and tugged the offending faux-leather hat off. “Looks like you’re gonna need it more than me now anyway, cowboy,” he laughed, trying to keep his excitement in check as he watched Chris’ calloused, slightly shaky hands roll the condom down his stiff and aching cock and move his hips into position. “Fuck…” he breathed, peering up through his long hair to watch as Chris scrunched his eyes shut, and guided Leon’s cock inside of himself.
Despite having mistaken Chris for a straight man way back when they first met in person, it had been one bad night of drink for Chris, and Leon trying to walk his drunk-ass home when he’d begged Leon to fuck him. At first Leon had wondered if it was painplay on Chris’ masochistic behalf, but now, lazing back against the pillows with his hands on Chris’ hips as the dark-brunette took his cock to the hilt with a moan of deep wine-heady satisfaction, that it was quite the opposite. Chris Redfield liked to get fucked. More to the point; he liked to get fucked by Leon S. Kennedy.
“Holy shit,” Leon murmured, balls so tight as Chris’ velvet tightness swallowed up his cock and pulsed around him so needily he thought he’d shoot then and there. He let his tongue trace his lower lip, grunting softly as Chris adjusted his hips and tilted his head back slightly, euphoric as he let the shape of Leon settle in his gut. Big chest rising and falling from his heavy breaths. “You really needed this huh, Redfield?”
“Don’t fucking talk,” Chris warned him, lifting his hips a little and grinding back down again just to make Leon groan, “I can still kick you out.”
“You won’t, I know you better than you think, Chris.” He grinned, but he was starting to feel the heat now too; grunting as Chris ignored his lure and started to ride.
Years of rigorous muscle training and core strength fucking itself down onto his cock with precise rhythm was hard to beat, and Leon was laying back to enjoy the show with gratuitous unashamed moans on his lips. Stroking Chris’ thighs, grinding his hips up to smack against Chris’ ass as he bounced on him.
“Sure you don’t want my hat, cowboy?” He asked, breathless and sly, gripping Chris’ thighs tighter and thrusting up sharply to force a grunt from Chris’ still stoic and stern face. A man too afraid to know when to loosen up. That’s what Leon was for. He chuckled again, eyes tracing down to watch as Chris’ hole stretched repeatedly around his cock – smirking at just how hard Chris had remained as he fucked himself; “didn’t realise I’d end up being the horse at the end of the night.”
“Shut it,” Chris growled, resting one hand on the headboard as he fucked himself a little quicker, grunting into his heavy exhales as he took Leon in deep, long strokes, heavy cock bobbing and drooling down onto Leon’s stomach. “S-stop lookin’ at me like that.”
“Like what?” Leon asked innocently, keeping his blue eyes firmly locked on Chris’, hands sliding up to grasp Chris’ hips tight and tug him down onto his cock. Chris whined, leaning in a little, the scent of a man who’d been sweating through his cheap cologne in a poorly fitted suit washing over Leon like a gaseous drug; and Leon was back into action. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, guiding Chris down with quicker, harder thrusts; “looks like that feels good huh, Chris? Fuck… I love this view,” he snapped his hips up again, and Chris moaned through his teeth, and shot him an angry glare.
“Wish I wasn’t wearing a rubber, so I could feel you properly,” Leon moaned, cock throbbing at the idea of thrusting into Chris raw and feeling his soft insides stroking his cock properly. “Maybe it’s a good thing… mngh… reckon I wouldn’t last five minutes in an ass this tight.”
Leon moaned on the last word as Chris shoved his fingers into Leon’s mouth.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, “and stop doing that,” he added, as Leon’s eyes crinkled in amusement and his tongue snaked between Chris’ fingers as he sucked on them hungrily, still grinding up to meet Chris’ ass in tight thrusts. “Seriously Leon,” he growled, “you’re such a fucking prick.”
Sucking on Chris Redfield’s fingers, Leon didn’t give a shit about Chris’ weak attempts to insult him just to protect his pride. He hummed out his pleasure, not caring about the drool running down his chin as Chris fingered his mouth and top of his throat just to make him gag. Focusing only on Chris Redfield riding him breathless and flush and damp, straining to keep control of himself as pleasure began to take control. His groans getting higher and whinier, muscles tensing, slowing his pace just a little as a drop of precum splashed from the tip of his touch-starved cock down into Leon’s navel.
“Leon,” he whispered, doleful in his blatant need for more , “you’re still looking.”
Leon pulled Chris’ hand from his mouth, licking the web of saliva strung between his fingers away; “can’t help it, Redfield. You’re the only thing worth looking at.”
Chris chuckled distastefully, frustrated but in too deep now to fully keep up the sour façade. “Fuck…” he whispered, leaning his head down and letting his lips ghost over Leon’s open ones. They were trembling slightly. “Guess I missed you too, idiot.”
A sigh against Redfield’s lips, defeated again by Chris’ polarity, and Leon knew that his passive role was over. He kissed him. Soft at first. Still guiding Chris’ hips to ride down onto his cock, drinking in his whines as Leon’s cock ground in deep and satisfactory; the months between their weird not-quite-only hookups leaving an itch that couldn’t be scratched via any other lucky bastard in the world. Not so long as Leon was around to make sure nobody was picking up his man at any parties.
It wasn’t hard to pull Chris down and roll him beneath him, pushing him right up against the headboard as Leon's hands grasped the backs of his knees and shoved them almost up to the older man’s head. Chris groaned, but didn’t fight it, hands gripping the headboard as Leon’s hips shunted forward and he hilted himself in deep again. All the while they were still exchanging hungry kisses, biting and tugging on lips and tongue, drunk on one another’s desperate moans and breaths.
“Who’s not in the mood, huh?” Leon chuckled, snapping his hips as he started to pick up the pace again. Smooth strokes in and out of Chris’ desperate body. But Chris couldn’t argue anymore, gazing drunkenly up at Leon despite not having touched a drop of alcohol in years, urging him with his parted, wet lips to grant him another kiss. “Fuck…” Leon mumbled, giving in without question and sinking his teeth into Chris’ lower lip before sliding his tongue back into the older man’s mouth.
He fucked him hard. Like Chris Redfield needed. Slamming his hips into Chris’ ass fierce and fast and forcing the whines and moans to spill from Chris’ mouth as he kept his lips occupied with sloppy unstopping kisses. Headboard banging against the plaster wall as Leon forgot they were in a public space, entirely fixated now on plunging into his Chris, gripping his thighs so tight as he bent the man damn-near in half Chris’ eyes watered a little from pain, brow furrowed in that beautiful way it always did when he was trying so damn hard to keep it all together.
“You’re fucking loud, y’know that Redfield?” He laughed, panting heavier with every thrust, vest sticking to the sweat on his back with the effort of keeping the heavy man in position.
“Mnh, sh-shut it,” came the weakly embarrassed retort, Chris Redfield pushing himself up a little to chase Leon’s lips, moaning as Leon kissed him again, eyes half-closed in bliss as he was pounded closer and closer to infinity.
There was a sharp rapping on the hotel door, and a familiar female voice; “Hey Chris, you in there?”
Leon and Chris broke apart, in that split second of eye-contact, Leon slammed his hand over Chris’ mouth. Chris frowned, then gave a sorely muffled groan as Leon continued to roll his hips – a little slower now as he called back to Claire, who was waiting outside.
“Chris is asleep, too much punch.”
There was a long silence, filled with only Chris’ angrily muffled moans as Leon kept fucking him as quiet as he could manage.
“Leon?” Claire sounded surprised, and suspicious. Then after a pause, “Is Chris okay? Do you guys need anything?”
Leon grinned down at Chris, who was looking up pleadingly with his soft brown eyes. Anxious maybe that Claire would find out. Embarrassed more that Claire might hear him with another man’s cock in his ass. But Leon kept his hand firmly over Chris’ mouth, still thrusting quick and hard into him enough that his eyes started to roll back, arms trembling with the effort of trying to stop the headboard banging into the wall.
“He’s fine,” he called toward the door, “I’ll stay and look after him. You go enjoy the party, Claire.”
Another suspicious pause.
“Alright…” she didn’t sound wholly reassured that Chris was ‘fine’, but Leon knew Claire trusted him with her life. Why not with the life of her dumbass stubborn handsome brother, too? Besides, Leon had more than an inkling that Claire already knew more about them than Chris wanted to consider. “Just give me a call if you need anything, alright?”
“Goodnight, Claire,” Leon called, admiring the desperation contorting Chris’ face.
Eyes closed tight, sweat on his forehead, whimpering low and houndlike in his throat as Leon ground into his prostate at a particularly delicious angle. He kept him like that for a long, drawn out minute, working Chris until the big man was oozing down onto his stomach again, before lifting his hand away from Chris’ lips and licking the saliva away.
A sly grin, he whispered; “reckon she heard?”
“Fuck you,” Chris grunted, too blown with lust and close to his finish to muster up the anger to really bark at him. “Can’t you stop for one fucking minute?”
Leon sank back into Chris slowly, a groan rolling luxuriously from his tongue. “Nope.” He started to thrust again, lifting Chris’ hips a little higher and pounding into that sweetspot that had Chris whimpering before. “Did you really want me to, honey?” He laughed softly against Chris’ lips, prompting the man to frown and turn his head away a little. Leon kissed his cheek, knowing if he looked now Chris would be blushing horrendously at the petname.
With Chris too shy to kiss, Leon pressed his lips to his neck, sucking out hickeys selfishly, knowing the sensation made the big man moan and would earn him a definite slap in the morning. But Chris’ skin was addictive, and Leon was groaning into his shoulder, folding his body almost entirely into Chris’.
“Shit…” he heard Chris whisper, and one of the older man’s hands gripped Leon’s bicep for support.
“Gonna cum, honey?” Leon purred into his ear, nipping at the lobe with delicate teeth; “fuck… guess I am, too. Fuck… one day I’ll fuck you without a rubber, mess you up real good, Chris.”
“You think I’d let you, asshole?” Chris muttered, but he gave a soft ‘ah’ as Leon fucked him harder, and bit lightly at his neck. “Y-you’re such a god-damn prick, Leon.”
“Yeah, I know,” Leon grinned into his neck, “and you’re a shit liar, Chris.”
One of his hands had found Chris’ cock by now, finally gripping it and pumping it in time to his thrusts. It was an intimidating limb, bigger than Leon’s. And yet Chris seemed to have no interest in using it, whining in overstimulation as Leon worked him sloppily with his careful wrist, begging softly under his breath; “d-don’t’… s-s’too m-uch…” which only shocked right to Leon’s dick, and he was kissing Chris again to devour his pleas with a growl of sudden rut.
“God, Chris, you really do want me to go mad,” he hissed back, letting Chris mouth hopelessly at his jaw as he concentrated on reaching his climax, jerking Chris off until the older man gave a soft cry and whine, rocking up into Leon’s fist as he came hard onto his own chest. Leon pulled out, ripped the condom off and closed his fist (slick with Chris’ cum) around his cock and finished himself off with a groan of relief. Squirting white all over the quickly rising and falling chest of his partner, cum mixing with Chris’ and pooling in the older man’s navel.
“Fucking hell…”
Leon stroked out the last few drops of his orgasm as he looked over Chris – fucked out and exhausted beneath him – before letting his soft cock hang still twitching gratefully between his thighs.
“Don’t say a thing,” Chris mumbled as Leon flopped down beside him and pulled Chris in to lie his head on his arm. The older man’s eyes were shut, looking less stern than he had down at the party, just worn and weary and relieved.
“Wasn’t going to,” Leon lied, watching Chris and wondering if he was still being bothered by those thoughts. He watched as Chris’ fingers lifted to his abdomen, and dragged idly through the semen coagulating on his chest – mixing their two orgasms together in slow, sticky circles. Perhaps half-asleep already. Leon leaned in and kissed Chris’ shoulder, and was surprised when Chris’ other hand lifted and entwined fingers with Leon’s hand behind his head. It wasn’t like Chris to act so sentimental after a good fuck. But then again, things were a bit different tonight.
“You were missing him again, huh?”
Chris exhaled. “Yeah. Been about three years now. It just… gets harder, going to these damn events, and remembering he’s not going to be there anymore. Shit… three years…”
Leon had never pried into the relationship Chris had had with Piers. Part of him didn’t want to know, and let the dead lie at peace. Jealous maybe, that there had been someone else before him that mattered to Chris enough to break through his shields and make him that drunk, miserable wreck who’d begged Leon to just fuck him so he didn’t have to think anymore. But Leon couldn’t blame Chris when he’d more or less ordained himself as Chris’ stand-in bootycall on nights like this, when he knew Chris was feeling his lowest.
Maybe it had been out of loyalty to Claire, at first. She’d been the one to ask him to look after Chris when she was busy. And still… Leon had no reason to have put himself in this position, and more and more frequently now he was confronted with the unanswerable question of what it was exactly he felt toward this mess of a man. And whether he – equally messy – was doing more harm than good in entwining them in their darkest hours. Self-medicating with one another’s bodies in hotel rooms and dingy bathrooms.
He wasn’t even sure what he and Chris had, except this weird, charged sexual thing. One that was more often becoming a night lying in silence in each other’s arms, sometimes speaking, oftentimes not. Kissing when their mouths couldn’t find words worth speaking.
Chris opened his eyes, and reached for the cowboy hat discarded on the mattress beside them. He held it in his hands and stared at it blearily, tilting it this way and that, then leaning his head back on Leon’s sturdy arm and looking up into the face of the younger man.
“Maybe a cowboy does suit you, actually.”
“Yeah?” Leon grinned, dipping his head to let Chris place the hat back on it. “Reckon we got some Brokeback Mountain shit going on huh, Redfield?”
“Never saw it.”
Leon chuckled. “Course you didn’t. You’d like it, sometimes I feel like your Jack Twist.”
Chris closed his eyes again and a faint ghost of a smile thinned his lips. “Sorry I called you ‘asshole’ so much today. Just… in a weird place tonight.”
“Yeah, I know.” Leon squeezed Chris’ hand gently, and not for the first time saw him as a man who embodied his own doubts and fears, maybe the only guy on the planet who really, truly might understand him. So why was it so hard for two adult men to breach that conversation? Or maybe it was the knowing silence they were both chasing after all, from the voices in their own heads.
“Anyway, I kinda like it when you’re a bit feisty. Really gets me going.”
“Yeah, Leon, I know.” Chris chuckled, finally seeing a little ridiculous humour in their exchange. “My cigarettes… fuck… I left ‘em in my jacket downstairs…”
“Want me to go grab them for you, honey?”
Chris shot Leon a look, less bitter than earlier, maybe a little affectionate in fact. And then he sat up a little and brought his face close to Leon’s, and kissed him again. Slower and deeper and gentler than they had been for the last hour.
“This gonna fix that hankering?” Leon smirked against his lips.
“You’re good at makin’ me forget shit like that,” Chris mumbled back, kissing and sighing gratefully as Leon’s fingers stroked the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m gonna suck you off again y’know, before we sleep.”
A little thrill in Leon’s sternum, right to his cock, which hadn’t expected to be getting lucky twice in one night with Chris Redfield.
“Yeah?”
“Mmh.” Chris moaned as he kissed him, seeking and passionate in his own stiff way. Wordless exchanges that would carry on until dawn, when they’d part ways without even a ‘goodbye’, until the next time they needed a painkiller for those old, scarred wounds that just kept aching no matter how many years dragged by.
And maybe, it was for the best.