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The helicopter ride back to San Francisco is fairly quiet, other than the roaring of the rotors and the usual after-op adrenaline rushing in his ears. He's in the same one that Leon and Jill hopped into, which means politely averting his eyes from Carlos Oliveira holding onto Jill like he'll lose her all over again. The former Umbrella operative is still suave as ever, but after Wesker and everything that happened there he meets Jill after assignments if he can and pulls her in against his side and spends the entire flight back just looking like there's nothing else in the world other than the tiny, angry, endlessly competent woman at his side. For Jill's part, she could probably kick his ass ten times over and he knows it, but after all these years she just leans on Carlos with a smile, patting one muscular arm reassuringly.
Chris is glad to have her back. For a while there she'd been going off the rails, even his captain speeches wouldn't work on her because Jill is immune to that sort of thing. She's not someone who needs words from someone else – she has to figure things out in her own head and Dylan Blake seemed to have irritated her to the point that she managed it. There's a definite change in her – less anger in her eyes, less tension in her shoulders. Chris is happy for her, she's one of the two most dangerous people he knows but she's also his oldest friend and he hated every moment of their time without her.
Speaking of the two most dangerous people he knows, the other one is currently doing a light damage check and Chris watches subtly, cataloguing everything. The agent in question is sitting with his long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, casual as can be. He hates to broadcast any kind of injury, Chris knows him well after all these years. With one arm out in front of him, Leon peels off his sleek leather glove and bends each of his fingers carefully, inspecting the clever digits critically. He has some bruising on a couple of them but he seems able to move them fine and once he's satisfied that nothing is damaged he does the same with the other hand.
Watching him slide those gloves on again after he's done might just send Chris' heart rate back up again, but who's to know. Leon has long, attractive fingers and it's a surprise when he wiggles them at Chris, who hadn't been as subtle about his staring as he'd obviously thought.
“Nothing broken,” Leon says cheerfully, like that's the absolute best he could hope for. The life they lead is a sad thing sometimes.
“Good to hear it.” Chris smiles back genuinely. After Arias and that whole debacle Leon had dislocated his shoulder pretty badly but hadn't said a word about it, just quietly holding his arm and looking grim until they'd gotten back. Chris had been waiting outside the medic's office for his own turn when he'd heard the muffled sound of agony Leon had made when the arm went back in, a ragged groan of pain he never wants to hear again. It's not often Leon will broadcast when something hurts so it'd been jarring to say the least, and Chris had been shocked by his own immediate, overwhelming urge to barge in there and protect Leon.
He hadn't, thankfully, because Leon probably would have just told him to go away. He doesn't need protecting, neither does Jill, but Chris can't help himself. Especially with Leon, because at least Jill has Carlos to check her over. As far as he knows Leon doesn't have anyone waiting for him to bandage his bruised knuckles (from punching Maria Gomez in the face, from what Chris heard) or run their hands down his sleek back to look for injuries, or inspect every inch of those long, sexy legs-
Chris slams the breaks on that train of thought before it goes too far because Leon is right there and fantasizing about someone who is both his friend and a person he has endless respect for feels disrespectful. Even if Leon's long, black-gloved fingers are drumming casually on his thigh as he idly looks out at the water skimming past, drawing attention to the lethal muscles there. Leon's legs are something Chris could write poetry about and he's secretly glad Leon's bike got totalled because the last time that happened Leon had taken him bike shopping, and Chris had enjoyed an entire three hours of getting to watch Leon fondle motorcycles. Getting to see him swing one of those sinful legs over a bike easily and run his hands over the handlebars and swipe his thumb over the dials and grin as the machine purred between his thighs...Chris had bought Leon lunch afterwards because he'd figured that was the least he could do.
He looks up from Leon's thigh to try and shake himself out of the direction his mind is headed and Leon winks at him before going back to looking out of the window. Chris is pretty sure that cocky bastard knows exactly what he's doing, but he's never quite certain enough to take the final step and just manhandle Leon over a desk. The dying adrenaline in his system is not helping at all, leaving him hollow and buzzing over every inch of his skin and antsy enough that he's maybe not being as careful with his staring as he usually is. He'd better try to get a handle on that before he embarrasses himself.
By the time they get back to the SF facility and finish their debriefing session it's getting late in the evening and Carlos and Jill head off to one of the private rooms for some alone time. Rebecca and Claire both hug him and decide to crash too, but Chris notices Leon is still striding around the place, drinking BSAA coffee and poking at things and generally just looking like he's still wired. The coffee probably isn't helping to be honest, but Chris knows that's the last thing Leon wants to hear right now.
Instead, he goes for something that always helps him take the edge off after an op.
“Wanna hit the gym?” He asks, knowing it was the right choice when Leon turns to him and puts his coffee down on a random surface.
“Thought you'd never ask,” the agent says with a quirk of a smile, looking pleased and following when Chris tilts his head towards the darkened back rooms. They head through and down a set of concrete stairs into the wide gym room, Leon whistling in appreciation at the amount of equipment and immediately heading for one of the heavy bags hanging from the ceiling. Chris hovers nearby, although not within kicking distance because Leon is lethal when he wants to be.
Taping up his hands is a good excuse to watch Leon take off his boots and socks, put them to one side neatly, then start artfully kicking the ever-loving shit out of that poor punchbag. The chain holding it squeaks in protest and Chris wants to stop staring at Leon's legs, somehow only accentuated by his bare feet, whipping around and slamming into the bag while Leon holds his fists loosely clenched, hair flying with each kick.
It's not often Chris gets to focus on Leon's movements in a fight – he's usually also in the middle of fighting something. Getting to see the form and skill Leon uses to decimate that unlucky punchbag is a god-damn treat and Chris just pauses in taping up his knuckles to watch, tape in hand, trying not to look as awestruck as he feels.
It's a good five minutes of constant movement and the sounds of the kicks slamming into the leather, the squeaking of Leon's feet against the mat below them and the jangling of the chain. Below that Chris can make out Leon's measured breathing and the occasional sound of exertion from him, each one of those sexy little noises hitting Chris as hard as Leon is hitting that bag.
Eventually Leon comes to the end of his set and stills the bag from its wild swinging, taking a step back and giving a tired huff of breath, running a hand through his slightly damp hair with a grin.
“Just what I needed.” He claims. “Your turn.”
He tilts his head at the bag and steps back, looking expectant, so Chris decides it's probably a good idea to get some of his pent up energy and the last of the adrenaline out of his system anyway. He finishes taping up his knuckles, sizes up the bag and then absolutely slams his huge fist into it with a low growl.
It takes him a while, punching with a lot less elegance than Leon's kicking but a huge amount of raw power, to realise that he's being stared at. He keeps going but glances up at the side of one of the machines in front of them, catching the reflection of Leon in the shiny stainless steel finish.
Leon is watching him with an expression Chris has dreamed about seeing on him. He has an attractive flush on his face and dark eyes, running them down from Chris' shoulders to his fists and back, lips slightly parted because he's breathing heavier than he was when he was working out. The absolute raw lust in his eyes is unmistakeable and Chris slows to a stop, settles the bag and turns to his friend.
“Hey, I was watching that.” Leon complains in a voice that's gone a little rough at the edges, dragging his eyes up to Chris' and not even trying to hide the fact that he's staring.
And okay, they may have danced around mutual attraction for years, but Chris isn't about to pass this opportunity up. Not when Leon is looking at him like that, like whatever is going on inside his head is absolutely filthy and he's thoroughly enjoying it. When Leon licks his lips it's over for Chris and he knows it.
“Wanna spar?” He asks in a voice also rough with his barely-contained need to get his hands on Leon, whose eyes light up in excitement at the challenge and where it's almost certainly going to go.
“Oh, definitely.” The younger man grins, leading Chris over to the open area away from the machines, the ground there covered with more crash mats.
Leon gives him about ten seconds to remove his shoes before whipping around with a spin kick aimed directly at his head. Chris brings one large arm up and grunts as the kick connects with his bicep, moving at the same time to try and catch Leon with his other hand. Leon laughs and dances back nimbly, clearly enjoying himself as he sizes Chris up and then ducks under a punch, trying to sweep Chris' legs out from under him but finding that Chris was ready for him. Hopping over the sweep, Chris tries to grab again but Leon is agile as always, springing into a one-handed flip and coming up absolutely fine and out of grabbing range. God, he's a flexible bastard and Chris is starting to lose his coordination because he wants to grab Leon so badly. His focus is shot but Leon takes pity on him with a bright laugh, coming in for another wide kick and blatantly letting Chris catch his calf, dragging him in until he's almost in a vertical splits, Chris holding his thigh and his leg bent, not even trying to get out of the hold.
Panting slightly, Leon shuffles the foot he has on the ground to get a more comfortable purchase and looks like he might be debating throwing a punch because Chris is wide open. Instead, in the incredibly vulnerable pose Chris has him in, he reaches out with one hand and runs those clever, gloved fingers up Chris' shoulder, along the muscles there to his neck, eyes falling half-lidded as he watches the path of his own hand. He doesn't even seem to care that he's stood on one foot with Chris holding his thigh up, close enough for their breaths to mix. He makes it look easy.
“Mmh.” Leon murmurs in appreciation, eyes heavy. “I bet you fuck like a beast.”
That has Chris so off-kilter with immediate lust that Leon easily breaks out of the hold, laughing mischievously and dancing back out of his reach again.
“That was a dirty trick, Kennedy.” Chris accuses with a hint of laughter in his voice, deciding that if this is how they're playing it he can give as good as he gets. “When I catch you, you might just find out.” That's a pretty clear invitation, if the blatant flirting up until that point hadn't been enough, and Chris is very interested to hear what Leon has to say to it.
“Promise?” Leon purrs in reply, not hesitating at all. It's Chris' turn to laugh and he tries to dart towards Leon to grab him, fast but not quite fast enough. Leon dodges to one side and behind him, running teasing fingers along the backs of his shoulders before Chris can turn and try to grab him again. That has Chris shivering and then growling, spinning to face the grinning demon opposite him.
“I'm gonna ruin you.” Chris promises, “I'm gonna hold you down and make you forget your own god-damned name, Kennedy.”
That has Leon's breath picking up, eyes darkening even further. It takes him a micro-second more to react when Chris comes at him again, and that's a tactic Chris can one hundred percent get behind.
“Not even gonna take you to a bed, I'm gonna have you clawing at the wall.” He closes in, circling like a predator, watching Leon's chest move as his breath picks up. “I'm gonna mess you up.”
Leon's next attempt at a kick is clumsy enough that Chris knows he's either done it on purpose or he's so lost in lust that he can't focus at all. It's an easy thing to grab his ankle and bring him to the crash mats on his back, earning an 'oof' as he hits the soft ground and immediately tries to roll away as a reflex. Chris doesn't let him, bracketing him in with his arms on either side of his shoulders, looking down into slightly unfocussed blue eyes.
“Mess me up, Boss.” Leon breathes up at him, raising one hand to drag through the short hair at the back of his neck and pull him down with a flushed grin, hair a mess and ever so ready for it. Chris wouldn't refuse an offer like that in a million years, ducking down to meet Leon half way. The kiss isn't the most gentle thing with their adrenaline and lust and years of back-and-forth, Chris pressing into Leon's mouth and roughly taking what he wants as he pushes Leon back into the crash mats beneath him. Leon seems to absolutely love it, hooking one leg over Chris' hips and arching up into him like a cat in heat.
“God, you're so bad for my blood pressure,” he tells the agent below him, who definitely knows it. With a growl he grabs Leon by the front of his belt and yanks him up to press them together, Leon's hips arched off the ground and a pleased groan catching in the younger man's throat. He lets himself be manhandled easily and Chris knows he likes it, using the hold on him to kiss him again. With Leon's clever fingers in his hair and roaming all over his chest and shoulders like a kid in a candy store Chris would quite happily just keep up with the heavy petting on the floor forever, but Leon is one impatient sonuvabitch. The little pleading sounds he starts making against Chris' mouth are delicious and he kisses his way down Leon's pretty throat, holding him up by his belt and Leon's leg hooked over his waist, the usually cocky agent's head dropping back to the ground to offer himself easily.
He loves Leon's throat. He's wanted to kiss it for years and takes his time exploring there, lips and teeth and tongue, scratching his stubble lightly over the smooth skin and lowering Leon back to the ground to get a better angle. It frees up his hand so he buries it in all that silky hair, using it to keep Leon's head arched back, and Leon is hard as a rock under him. He can tell, because Leon grinds up into him every few moments, panting and wanting but just about managing to behave himself for the moment.
“You know...one of the things I...I like best about you?” Leon asks in a ragged breath, still trying to press up into the considerable bulge Chris is denying him. “Very...Very target-oriented. Efficient. Straight to the-the point. Hardly...hardly any sidetracking.”
Chris grins against his neck and gives him a little nip there for the sarcasm, earning a brief shiver. He takes mercy and palms Leon between his thighs, though, because the sound he makes at the relief is downright sinful.
“I'm enjoying the scenery.” Chris claims, drawing back a little to look down at the flushed, messy-haired agent below him, who rolls lithe hips into his palm and looks up at him innocently.
“The scenery is about to lose its god-damned mind if it doesn't get your cock soon,” Leon says, before pulling some kind of pro wrestling move to flip them over that Chris doesn't see coming at all because he's too busy admiring the view. With Leon suddenly straddling his hips and leaning over him, grinning, the view is just as good. Chris smiles up at him, reaching up to brush his hair back behind one ear with an amount of tenderness that doesn't fit the situation at all, but he doesn't care.
“I could look at you all day.” He says, honest. Leon's smile softens a little and he leans down for a slower, more heartfelt kiss before grinding down on Chris firmly.
“You know what's better than looking at me?” He asks, doing it again. Chris takes hold of his hips and loves the way his hands look there.
“Fucking you?” He guesses, earning a laugh.
“Fucking me.” Leon agrees, reaching down for his own belt and deftly undoing both it and then Chris' with one hand, the other pressed against Chris' chest to give him a little purchase for his movements. He doesn't seem able to stop the way his hips rock, compelled to seek out what pleasure he can while he efficiently goes about stripping them both. Chris helps where he's able, having to hold Leon's waist to still him for a moment so they can awkwardly strip. It earns him a little whimper that he loves – Leon makes noises like he's never heard when he feels good and Chris could listen to them forever.
Normally Leon barely makes a sound even when he's in agony. When he'd been infected and laying against the bars of Chris' cell on Alcatraz all Chris had been able to hear were occasionally hitching, strained breaths. When he feels good, though, he doesn't hide it. His low voice turns ragged and every spike of pleasure is audible, little gasps and groans forced out of him.
Chris might be a big, sentimental idiot because he thinks he could listen to those sounds for the rest of his life quite happily.
Once they're both naked after struggling to get Leon to stay still long enough and a lot of shuffling due to both of them refusing to detach fully from the other, Leon happily takes his place back on top of Chris and looks down at him, eyes sparkling and a flush on his cheeks.
“I knew you'd be huge.” He says happily, grinding down again and giving a shaky sigh of pleasure. Chris echoes it with a groan, guiding his hips.
“Been checking me out?” He asks, rocking up into Leon's movements and enjoying every sound he can wring from the endlessly skilled, endlessly kind and endlessly cocky man over him.
“I hardly ever stop, it's very distracting.” Leon claims, and Chris can feel the tips of his ears burn a little with the flush he hopes Leon doesn't notice.
“Do you have any-”
Chris doesn't even get to finish asking before Leon holds up a packet of lube with a flourish like it's a magic trick, twirling it in his fingers and raising his eyebrows with a grin. Chris can only assume it was in the pocket of the jeans he just took off, otherwise he has no idea where it came from. Although if it was in his pocket that means he had it the entire time they were on Alcatraz, which Chris will definitely laugh about later.
Chris makes to take the offered packet but Leon grins again and rips the corner off with his teeth, spreading a nice amount between his fingers and thumb with a slick sound. The scent of artificial cherries fills the air around them and Leon licks his lips, keeping the packet in one hand while the other slips between his sinful thighs.
“If I've fantasized about you watching me do this, does that make me an exhibitionist?” Leon asks in a low purr, rocking up on his knees when he slides the first finger all the way into himself, tipping his head back and not even trying to stifle the pleased groan that drags its way out of his throat.
“I think that's only if other people watch.” Chris rasps, eyes fixed on where Leon slides his slick-shiny fingers deep into himself over and over, scissoring and spreading. “Besides, this is just for me.” He rumbles firmly, holding Leon by his attractive hips as he prepares himself in a much more roundabout way than he really needs to.
“Oh, possessive, I like it.” Leon breathes out, pressing a third finger up into himself once he's satisfied with the two. Chris watches those clever digits sink deep into Leon's body, having to crane his neck to see but not caring because this is his new favourite show. He's transfixed by those long fingers dragging slowly out before plunging back in, moving in a way Leon clearly likes if the little sounds he makes are anything to go by. Unable to stop himself, Chris snakes one hand between those strong thighs and covers Leon's hand with his own, pushing up to force Leon's fingers into himself. That earns him a full body shudder of arousal and Leon's moan is a notch higher than before, more desperate. The pretty cock jutting up between them twitches and Chris grins, enjoying how responsive and easy to read the younger man's body is.
“I'm gonna get so deep in you that you're gonna be able to taste me.” He growls, pushing his hand up again to force Leon's fingers into a grinding motion, listening to him whimper and curl his body down over Chris involuntarily, gasping.
“T-tasting you is definitely on my list,” Leon replies with some effort, breathing the words almost against Chris' ear. “Ngh, fuck, do that again,” he groans out, his hips jerking when Chris manoeuvrers his fingers to hit a good spot, pushing into Leon's hand again. “Right there...”
Leon's moans take on a breathless edge and all Chris can hear for a long moment is the delicious sound of Leon gasping helplessly near his ear before the smaller man leans back and swats at his shoulder, playful annoyance in his eyes and a gorgeous flush on his face.
“Close?” Chris asks cheekily, pushing at Leon's knuckles again and feeling his slack hand press up into himself once more. Leon's eyes lose focus for a moment and almost roll back, hips grinding down before he catches himself, dragging his hand from between his legs and growling.
“Not at all.” Leon lies. “I have a date with Redfield Jr here and nothing on this Earth is going to stop me.”
Chris laughs, deep and rumbling, sliding his hands back to Leon's lovely hips because they feel like they belong there. The cut of Leon's waist is something he's never been able to avoid staring at – perfect and mouth-wateringly good in a well-tailored waistcoat, even better without one. His broad, toned shoulders only highlight the slim waist and narrow hips, made for twisting and turning, drawing the eye down to long, strong legs that Chris wants to kiss every inch of one day. There's no part of Leon Scott Kennedy that Chris doesn't think is gorgeous, especially on the inside, and so getting to finally, finally sink into his willing body is like a dream come true.
Leon takes his time sinking down onto him, body swallowing him in tight heat and the look on his face the stuff of fantasies. Leon's face is flushed, sweat making his skin shine and his mouth hanging open a little as he takes Chris inch by inch, eyes closed and his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He's clearly feeling everything, every moment of the press, and Chris watches him, rapt. The sounds he makes are tiny, breathless little gasps of pleasure and those clever hands rest over Chris' on his hips, fingers grasping and twitching as his body takes more and more of Chris in.
When Leon is finally sat flush on his cock he opens his eyes slowly, almost black with lust, and just pants for a moment while his knees try to twitch together, pleasure slithering through him in trickles that shiver down his body.
“Perfect fit,” he manages to breathe after a long moment, rolling his hips experimentally, a tiny movement. It has both of them groaning in pleasure and Chris' grip tightens on his hips, teeth clenched against the need to just slam up into the man above him.
“Tell me when you're ready, this isn't gonna be gentle,” Chris warns, voice rough. He loves the pleased moan Leon gives at that, the agent leaning forward a little to brace his palms on Chris' broad chest.
“Okay.” Leon purrs in challenge, looking into his eyes. “Give me your best shot, Captain.”
Chris has never been one to back down from a challenge, and certainly isn't about to start now. He keeps his grip on Leon's hips and uses it to lift the smaller man halfway off his cock before pulling him back down, snapping his hips up at the same time to get as deep as he can. Leon damn near cums right then and there, having to clench his teeth and arch back, crying out desperately when Chris just keeps going, slamming himself up into the quivering body above him.
It takes a good few thrusts before Leon can pull himself together enough to even participate, bracing against Chris' chest to rock his hips down into the rhythm Chris has set. It's rough and fast and Leon bows over to kiss him more than once, catching his lips breathlessly between thrusts when he can collect himself enough to. The sounds he makes are straight out of some high end porn, fucked-out whimpers and bitten off pleas, the occasional ragged cry when Chris gets him at a good angle.
It's a brutal pace and even Chris can't keep up the display of strength for long, but Leon doesn't seem to mind at all. He enjoys the hard thrusts for a long while before shifting to lean back, bracing himself with his hands on Chris' thighs, and in a show of that legendary flexibility he rolls his hips in the position to grind down on Chris.
The new angle has Leon's head dropping back with a moan and Chris changing the speed of his thrusts to grind up into Leon instead, watching the flush travel down Leon's chest and the way his cock leaks near constantly. He's hitting Leon's prostate dead on every time now and he's going to remember the angle because Leon's cries have become helpless gasps, his thighs quivering with the effort of not just cumming right then.
“Come on, let me see it,” Chris encourages, wrapping one hand around Leon's twitching cock and fisting him in time with their movements. Leon, stubborn as ever, shakes his head and gives a bitten off whimper, managing to raise his head long enough to fix Chris with a dazed attempt at a glare.
“Nh-not before you,” Leon breathes in challenge, clenching himself around Chris now with each roll of his hips, biting his lip in concentration. “Wanna feel you paint my insides,” he moans out, tipping his head back again and whimpering at a firm stroke.
Chris would usually be stubborn about something like this but he can't manage it with Leon giving helpless little sounds above him. It's the way Leon is desperately trying not to cum that wins it for him in the end – his trembling body coupled with the way he's visibly trying to fight through his own pleasure have Chris groaning and shooting into him so soon that it feels like he didn't get to touch half the parts of Leon that he'd wanted.
He doesn't mind cumming first, though, because he sits up with his softening cock still inside Leon, stroking the agent's cock and letting Leon twist and writhe against him. He buries his free hand in all that lovely, silky hair and tilts Leon's head down for a kiss, feeling the younger man's hands clutching at the muscles of his chest and shoulders, unable to find purchase until they bury in Chris' short hair. Leon curves over him and moans into his mouth, the kiss long and deep and breaking just in time for Chris to watch Leon tip his head back and cum hard with a ragged, breathless cry.
His whole body quivers, each muscle tensing hard for a few moments before relaxing as the exhausted agent slumps into his arms and mumbles something unintelligible into the muscle of his shoulder.
“You good?” Chris asks, laughing when Leon weakly raises one hand, not moving, and gives him a shaky thumbs up.
“G'mee a minute...” Leon slurs, going limp again. “Then we can do it slow. Didn't get to feel you up enough.”
Chris snorts and squeezes him tight, kissing his hair and never wanting to let him go.
“Hey, you wanna date me?” He asks, murmuring it into Leon's hair and only slightly apprehensive about the answer.
“Breakfast date.” Leon replies, yawning into Chris' shoulder. “Full English. No negotiation.”
That earns him another rumble of a laugh and Chris strokes his back, smiling affectionately down at the man in his arms while Leon can't see him.
“Full English it is.” He agrees, a pleased mumble his only answer.