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Their lips met in an almost violent rush, desperation clawing at him as their lips slotted together, teeth clashing together as Carlos aggressively shoved his tongue in his mouth with no hesitation. Leon's hands gripped his bulletproof vest, tugging him impossibly closer until his back hit the counter behind him, and he leaned up, just a few inches, just for it to feel like enough.
Leon doesn't know how it happened, one moment they had met each other in the halls of the RPD, had fought off two dozen zombies together in the last hour, and made a pact to help each other out and escape the city together after they found the girls they had met the same night and were dedicated to saving. They had shared quips and jokes with each other, their personalities meshing easily together, and now he's here, in the Chiefs' offices, with a beautiful man against him.
Carlos' huge hands slid across his sides, bunching the thin fabric of his shirt in his fists as he tugged it up, roughing the cotton up his stomach so his hot hands could run across the expanse of his skin, the barely there muscle and ripe baby fat on his abdomen. He gripped the fat on his hips in his hands, maneuvering him into place until he got him where he wanted him.
Leon isn't sure what to do with his hands, he's never kissed anyone before, let alone made out with someone, so he brings one hand up to Carlos' messy curls and threads his fingers through the strands, holding on for dear life as Carlos guides him through the mess of sensations he's feeling. He's hot, sweltering in his makeshift uniform, feeling more like a costume while under the decorated officer in front of him.
His heart beats wildly in his chest as Carlos breaks away from their kiss, a string of spit connecting their lips together, and Leon outright moans at the visual, watching as the string splits and spills down their chins, it's a little gross, but he doesn't care.
"I'll keep that in mind, princess," Carlos teases, and if Leon's face wasn't already a bright crimson, he would be a tomato by now.
Carlos tugs him closer, shoving his face into the crux of his neck and beginning his assault, placing wet, sloppy kisses along the porcelain flesh, sucking on his freckle-dotted skin, leaving harsh teeth marks across his clavicle.
Leon tilts his head back toward the ceiling, closing his eyes harshly and biting his lip to hold back the mound threatening to spill between his slick pink lips. They're raw from use, burning hot like the rest of his body, and his hand pulls at Carlos' hair like he's begging for something, but he doesn't know how much more he can handle.
Carlos tugs at Leon's vest with one hand, and it pops off like a cheap costume, Leon lets an almost desperate whine escape his lips. Carlos tilts his head up, one brow raised, looking a lot more composed than Leon does.
Carlos presses his thumb to Leon's lip until he releases his bottom lip from his teeth, thumb sliding easily between them, settling in his mouth gently, almost comforting in the manic rush of frantic hands and even more desperate kisses.
"None of that," Carlos says, and Leon's mind is already so foggy he doesn't fully realize what he means. "I want to hear you."
Leon nods softly, a reminder to both of them that Carlos' tongue is still in his mouth, and Leon instinctively sucks the digit deeper into his mouth until Carlos' hand is forced to cradle his face. Leon holds the man's wrist in his shaky hands as he runs his tongue along his thumb, licking up the sweat and saliva that's coating it.
"You're gonna fucking kill me, Kennedy," Carlos chuckles.
Leon smiles, letting his thumb fall from his mouth, Carlos tilts his head up and catches his lips in another kiss, hands going to the buttons of his flannel and trying to unbutton them in a civilized manner but Leon's anxious squirming has become too much for him, so he tears it off. Buttons fly everywhere but he barely notices it as Carlos deepens the kiss, like a distraction, as he shucks his flannel off toward his back, getting caught on his holsters, but it's enough, so close.
Leon's hands desperately find their way to where he thinks the straps of Carlos' vest would be, clawing at the sides of him, practically begging for him to take the vest off, to get as close to his skin as possible, but Carlos won't let him, distracting him by pressing a hand to his groin until Leon moans into his mouth, he can feel Carlos smile into his cheek. That Bastard.
"Carlos, please," Leon whimpers as Carlos cups his hard on in his palm, as much as he can through the fabric of his cargo pants.
"Please what? Gotta use your words, baby," Carlos teases, peppering kisses up his neck to his ear, biting the lob, tugging.
"Fuck you," Leon bites back, it's a lot less aggressive than he wants it to sound, sounding more pathetic than anything.
"Nah," Carlos says, pulling his hand away from his groin. "You don't do that around here."
Leon groans, head falling on his shoulder and moaning again as Carlos quickly honest to God slaps his dick through his pants.
"You—" Leon gasps.
"You don't talk to me like that," Carlos grunts, he knocks his shoulder up, grabs Leon by the chin, and forces him to stare into his eyes, Leon feels like thick jelly in his arms, the only thing holding him up anymore being Carlos himself, totally at his will.
"I have done nothing but help you all night, and that's how you want to repay me?" Carlos asks, tilting his head. Leon didn't realize this was how they were playing this game, but he's already so lost he doesn't think he could ever win it now. Doesn't know if he wants to.
"No," Leon gasps, and Carlos pats his cheek.
"Good boy," Leon groans again and Carlos smiles, pleased with himself. "You're so easy."
"Mm' not easy," Leon mumbles, but he lets him push him up onto the counter.
"Looking pretty easy from where I'm standing," Carlos takes a step back, and it's so pathetic, but Leon whimpers, reaching a hand out like he doesn't want to be anywhere but pressed into the counter by him.
"I'll be right back, sweetheart, don't even worry about it," Carlos removes his bulletproof vest in one swift movement that he doesn't fully grasp, before slotting back between his legs, this time having to lean up to give Leon another long drawn-out kiss that has Leon almost falling off the counter to get close to him.
Carlos doesn't take off his shirt though, which leaves Leon desperately clawing up his Henley that's tucked into his jeans so he can run his hands along his defined abdomen as Carlos' kisses trail down his neck even lower, smattering bites across his collarbones that will no doubt turn into hickies in the morning. Leon doesn't really care right now.
Leon's desperate for him, this he knows, the only thing on his mind getting Carlos impossibly closer to him, getting Carlos inside of him, a feeling he had never wanted before, but now it feels as if he doesn't get it he'll burn up and die. He pulls Carlos closer, and in the rustle slides of the counter, but before he can hit the ground awkwardly Carlos slides a leg in between his, effectively holding Leon up with his entire body now.
"Fuck," Leon curses softly, feeling the pressure against his cock.
"'Ya like that?" Carlos asks with a smile that Leon can feel against his neck, and Leon doesn't care anymore, inhibitions gone, nodding rapidly into his Carlos' dirty hair, they both smell like metallic blood and rot, and now the stench of sex seems to mask it.
"Love it," he whimpers, and Carlos bucks his leg up, forcing a moan from Leon's throat at the friction. Carlos chuckles underneath him, hands running up his bare sides to pinch his nipple just to hear the sounds he'll make.
"'Course you do," Carlos bites his pec, cupping the other one in his palm. "You love anything I'd give you, right?"
"Yeah," Leon chokes out, his entire body is on fire, eyes squeezed shut, every muscle loose and throat letting out little whimpers at every touch. He can't think much anymore, he can only feel what Carlos is doing to him and react. "Anything you give me."
So Carlos stops giving him anything, pulls his wet mouth away from his chest and holds him an arms length away until Leon is whiny and fidgeting, eyes peeling open, and he can feel tears pooling at the edge of his eyes like he's in mental distress without Carlos all over him.
"Ride me," Carlos says simply.
"What?" Leon asks, a little dumbly, and Carlos smiles, a cruel turn to his lips as he moves his hands down to Leon's hips and ruts him forward on his thigh.
"Like this baby, what, you never humped your pillow before?" He teases, and Leon shakes his head.
"Feels good," he murmurs, and with all the strength left he has in his body, that still feels like it's melting into goo, pushes his hips forward, the harsh feeling of Carlos' jeans rubbing against his cargo's through his underwear, it should be uncomfortable, the thick layers of fabric separating them, but his cock is leaking against his boxers and he's so desperate, so desperate to feel anything, and it's enough for now.
"There ya go, doll," Carlos says, watching him with rapt attention as he continues to grind across his thigh, the size difference between Leon's legs and Carlos' thigh makes Leon blush, he's smaller than him, not by a crazy amount, but enough for it to be noticeable, enough for it to drive him crazy.
Leon moans, his rutting growing more and more desperate as he he presses his face into Carlos' still clothed shoulder and moaning, he bites against the fabric, wetting it with his spit. The jolts of pleasure to his cock are making him feel drunk, his head is spinning, and he's not sure that he knows what day it is, let alone where they are, all he knows is Carlos' hot body pressed up against him, holding him up, and the weight of his cock against his thigh.
Carlos wrangles him up, holding his cheek with one hand, and then shoves two fingers into his mouth with his other, he moans around the intrusion, and then begins to suck on the digits, tasting the sweat and grime that have accumulated on them. His fingers taste like salt and dirt, and Leon doesn't think he's ever tasted anything better, he sucks harder, whining around the fingers as Carlos bucks his leg up.
"You're doing so good, Lee," Carlos says desperately, composure finally faltering. Leon almost didn't recognize the nickname, but it has his eyes fluttering open, staring at Carlos, soft and wide eyed. He ruts harder against his thigh in lieu of response, wanting him to see how frantic he's become for the man.
Carlos never said that Leon had to ask him to come, but Leon can't imagine cumming without his permission, so he spits the fingers out of his mouth, hips never stopping in their desperate movements as he gazes up at Carlos, spit falling from his lips and doe his chin, warm and slick.
"I want- let me cum, please?" Leon begs, fully willing. Carlos looks down at him, eyes wide, mouth agape like he can't imagine that he has Leon in front of him like this, begging for his permission.
"Yeah, alright sweetheart, cum whenever you need," he says sweetly, and then proceeds to shove three fingers into his mouth. Not to shut him up, but a sort of comfort for him.
Leon groans, unable to stop his rapid and off beat rutting of his hips, he's so hard he thinks he might burst, and so close, so goddamn close.
Carlos drags his hand from the side of his face and down his body to his abdomen, where he presses his large warm hand against the plains of his stomach.
"Next time I'm gonna fill you up, promise."
Leon cums then, floodgates bursting as his vision went black for a few seconds, he couldn't hear anything, couldn't feel until he felt the sticky sensation of his cum on his cock, wetting his boxers and farthing spreading across the crotch of his pants. He had just came all over Carlos' thigh, so much that even his jeans were click with his juices, and Leon groaned as Carlos' fingers fell from his mouth.
"That feel good baby?" Carlos asks, and Leon nods, shoving his head into the crux of his neck.
"So good, Carlos."
"I'm glad, but now it's my turn."
Carlos manhandles him until he slides of his thigh, turns him around until he's bent over the counter, and Carlos holds his hips as he jerks his hips against his ass, rutting against him with an animalistic desperation, before he chokes on a moan, spilling over and cumming in his jeans.
He leans over Leon, chest pressed against his back, shoves his face into the boy's golden blonde hair and wraps his arms around his waist. He's hot and sweating, huffing like he ran a marathon, but his weight is comforting, it's just what Leon needs, and he wonders if somehow, like everything else, Carlos knows that.
"You'll fill me up next time," Leon says, still a little dazed. "You promised."
"I did," he says with a chuckle, a huff of air into his neck, "Next time. For now, let's just clean you up."