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"Please have a seat, Miss Redfield."
Claire takes a seat on a wooden bench near the receptionist's desk after signing in. Tugging the hem of her dress closer to her knees, she wished she'd worn tights to combat how cold the police department is. Or she could have gone for business casual trousers like she originally planned. Claire doesn't like to spend a lot of time thinking about what to wear. After five minutes of questioning how professional versus comfortable she should look for her assignment today, her best friend chose for her: A simple, black, long-sleeved skater dress, paired with an old jean jacket that used to belong to Claire's brother.
"You look studious," her best friend, Tiffany, had said. "But you still look hot for any young officers who might be around."
Claire chuckles at the memory, brushing her hair back for the umpteenth time before putting it up with a hair tie. Tiffany had insisted on styling her hair, but Claire couldn't stand having it all over her face. She loves Tiffany, but her interest in Claire's non-existent dating life can feel like a chore. She's too busy with school to date for fun or for love nowadays, and the last place she's going to look for it is at Raccoon Police Station.
One of the requirements for Claire's class is to shadow someone in the crime and law field. She figured it'd be nice (and easier, to be honest) to shadow her brother, Chris. Except that, at the last minute, he had to go on a work trip. Since his captain doesn't want some college student roaming his office, Chris pulled some strings to have Claire shadow someone else at RPD.
Claire taps her pen against her notepad as she waits for the receptionist to come back. Even in the waiting room, she can tell RPD is much bigger than what the outside portrays. Artwork from when the department was originally a museum still occupies the walls. While Claire likes that the abandoned museum wasn't left to waste away like so many other old buildings, she still finds it an odd choice. The department doesn't do tours, and most of the art wasn't donated or auctioned off. In Claire's view, it's a waste that the public can't view them anymore.
More time passes before the receptionist comes back, looking slightly annoyed. "Sorry, miss. There's been a change—Officer Edward isn't available anymore, but Officer Kennedy has graciously offered his time."
From the look on Kennedy's face, Claire guesses that the claim that he graciously offered his time is a stretch. He stands in front of Claire, back straight and dressed in a freshly ironed uniform. All she can think of is how baby-faced he looks compared to the other officers roaming around. She wouldn't be surprised if he told her he graduated from the police academy yesterday. He doesn't look that much different from some of the underclassmen at Claire's university.
Whatever happened off-screen with Kennedy, he greets Claire with a handsome smile that has her grinning back, and holds out his hand. "Miss Redfield? Nice to meet you."
She shakes his hand, noting how warm and solid his grip is. She stops her mind from wandering off, yet is disappointed when he lets go of her.
"You, too. And you can just call me Claire."
He repeats her name to commit it to memory, and Claire likes the way it flows from him. "Officer Redfield left a memo specifying to make sure you're treated with the utmost respect."
Claire grimaces. Of course he did. Leave it to him to embarrass her when he's not even present. "Ugh, don't tell me he gave you The Talk."
The Talk refers to the conversation (read: interrogation) Chris always gave any person who showed an interest in Claire back when she was still in high school, and they lived together. He doesn't do it as much nowadays since she's older, but Claire also doesn't tell him about her dates until way after the fact. As Kennedy slowly understands what she means by The Talk, he smiles uneasily, eyes a little wide as he tries to figure out a response.
"I'm joking," Claire laughs, not wanting to torture him any longer. He laughs along with her, but then looks away like he's not sure what to do. This was going to be a long hour and a half if Claire didn't take charge.
Making sure she has her backpack on and notebook with her, Claire starts with her spiel. "There's no real order to this; I'm mostly following you around, doing observations and stuff. Maybe you can show me around and answer a few questions about yourself?"
The relief of having clear instructions is obvious on Kennedy's face, and Claire can't help but think how cute he is. It's a shame her school isn't close to here, because then maybe she might be able to catch him around more often.
"Alright, follow me."
As the two move through the station, Claire learns that Officer Kennedy's first name is Leon. The reason why his uniform looks so squeaky clean is that, well, Leon's new to the force. It's only his second day of work, and some of the other officers refer to him as a rookie. That status is probably why he got stuck entertaining Claire. Either way, she's not complaining. Leon speaks to her easily enough and keeps his attention on her when she talks. Proudness fills his features whenever he regards RPD and his role in it. All of it reminds her of Chris in a way. It's endearing, if perhaps edging on naive, the high sense of duty he feels.
Claire has work to do—and it'll get done—but as they grow comfortable during their visit, she lets her flirtiness flare out. Just for fun. Leon doesn't always take her up on it, either too shy or oblivious. But when he does, his neck turns a dark shade of pink, and the way he responds confirms he does find her attractive. Claire imagines a tiny devil version of her friend sitting on her shoulder, whispering, "Go for it! Go for it!"
Tiffany will be so proud of her.
Despite there being spaces that Claire isn't allowed to go into, there's plenty to see. At some point during their talk, they wander into a quiet hallway. Judging by the confused look on Leon's face, he hadn't meant to take them this far.
"Sorry, we can turn back—" he starts to say, only to get cut off by Claire scooting around him toward a door cracked open. Something glittering inside catches her eye, and like a crow drawn to a shiny coin, she darts in.
"What's this?" she asks at the same time Leon scolds, "Hey, you can't just barge into unauthorized places."
The irritation doesn't last long because he stops to admire what's around them as well. While most of the museum's art is still placed around the department for others to see, the bulk of it has been shoved into various rooms that haven't been renovated for other purposes. The room they're in now is one of them. Among the boxes are random statues and pottery lining the walls, along with paintings, some covered up with sheets, while others gather dust.
"Haven't been in this room before," Leon says. "I guess it's just more storage."
The way he says 'just more storage' bothers Claire. She's not artistic in any way, but she still appreciates the arts. Seeing valuable objects just carelessly pushed aside sours her.
"This stuff is gonna degrade or break if they're not properly taken care of." Leon picks up on the low tone in her voice and offers an empathetic nod.
"That makes sense. I never gave much thought to all the stuff here," he admits.
"I'm guessing your Chief didn't either," she says, thinking back to the information she found during her research. Chief Irons specifically chose this place for the department, but she couldn't find out why.
In the middle of the room is a long, cushioned bench with a backrest. Most likely placed there to view a large painting, but there are only half-covered crates in front of it now. Claire goes to sit on it, crossing her legs to give herself a break from standing for so long. While she's certain Leon wants to leave, he doesn't make any moves to rush her out.
"You could always ask him about it," Leon says after a while.
Claire lifts both brows at him. "He has time to talk to me?"
Leon shrugs, looking sheepish. "No, apparently he's always busy, and... I've only briefly met him once since I started. But still, I can put in a word for you. Or bring up the issue with him myself."
He actually sounds sincere and not like he's making up stuff to placate her. Claire doubts the Chief will care about some random student's feelings, but Leon's suggestion is still appreciated.
"That's sweet of you. Thank you." Leon lights up, hand going to rub the back of his neck. Claire doesn't think too much of it when she uncrosses her legs and leaves them slightly spread out—enough for it not to be seen as anything intentional. The movement leaves part of her dress still hiked up, almost showing the biker shorts she threw on in case it was windy today.
Leon's gaze goes right to her knees, over the additional skin shown by her thighs, and then to the door in quick succession. "All right, then. Sorry to cut your break short, but we should probably head out," he says, hurrying towards the exit that's closed, although neither can remember if one of them shut it or if it drifted closed on its own.
Claire stands, following behind him. Leon twists the doorknob, and a metallic noise comes through, something falling loose. He turns it again, and the door doesn't budge.
"Okay," he chuckles. Gripping it tighter, he jiggles the knob and tugs. Nothing.
Claire peers over his shoulder. "Are we stuck?"
"We're not stuck." The veins in Leon's arm bulge as he, once again, tries to use sheer force to open the door. As much as Claire wants to admire his biceps, she's not keen on being stuck in a room. "It's just, jammed, is all."
"Can't you kick it down or something?"
"I'm not kicking it down!" An apologetic look quickly appears as he pulls himself back from yelling further. "They might take it out of my salary," he mutters.
A rookie's salary must not be much. Especially one who's only on Work Day #2. Claire hums noncommittally and backs away, drifting toward the bench again. She doesn't see the way Leon deflates at her departure.
"It's fine. I can call someone and—" His hands pat his waist, his pockets, and shoulders several times before he realizes he doesn't have his walkie-talkie clipped on. "Goddamn it."
Claire dumps her backpack on the floor before flopping back onto the bench. She doesn't care to adjust herself for modesty. "I'm gonna die in here."
"You're not going to die in here." She can feel his eye roll even though she doesn't see it. "Someone will notice. There are cameras in every hallway. Or they'll hear us banging, eventually." He gives two hard bangs on the door to emphasize his point.
Claire doesn't mean to, but the set-up is there, and the words slip out before she can think better of it.
"They'll hear us banging?" She leaves it there. Silence flows in before the innuendo fully sinks in, and Leon fumbles around for a response.
"Why are you so—" His lips purse tight together. She wishes he'd finish his sentence, wanting to know what he thinks she is. She can think of two words: horny and a menace. It's mostly the latter, because seeing Leon unravel like this is both amusing and sexy in a way. Claire leans up on her elbows to see him better. Leon continues to stand by the door, but his eyes are trained so fiercely on Claire that her skin prickles from the attention.
The doorknob suddenly shaking surprises both of them. Claire sits up quickly to fix herself, while Leon lets out a long breath he's been holding in.
"Is someone in there?" a voice on the other side calls. Claire listens as Leon explains the situation and how annoyed he gets when the person laughs.
"It'll be a moment, rookie, so hang tight." The laughter fades away as the person leaves. Leon runs his hand harshly through his hair, messing up the neatly combed look he had.
Claire sighs and pats the bench. "Well, Officer Kennedy. Might as well get comfortable." Leon wanders over, but doesn't sit down. He studies Claire and the spot beside her like he's assessing the danger levels.
"What? You're looking at me like I'm gonna cause trouble," she says cheekily. Leon scoffs, grumbling under his breath. "What'd you say?"
"I said, I think you are trouble." He looms a little closer, and all the heat in the room seems to pile right on top of Claire. She shrugs off her jean jacket, and Leon watches every movement, jaw tightening like she has completely stripped in front of him.
"My brother says the same thing about me."
His face blanches, and Claire only feels a little sorry for her comment. "Do you really need to mention him right now?"
"I don't know." She stands up, bringing herself further into his space, and now only an inch separates them. Way too close to be an accident. "What's happening right now that you don't like me mentioning him?"
This is going into places Claire didn't anticipate, and truthfully, she's not upset about it. It's risky, and might be a little dumb. Will she get in trouble? Will Chris get fired for her actions? Will Leon?
He smells nice, Claire notes. Not heavy-handed on the cologne like a lot of men are. His lips look good and full enough to kiss. There's a bit of acne on his jaw, and as silly as it sounds, even that looks cute on him.
"I think," Leon starts, voice thick, "you might be coming onto me. But, I don't want to assume and make you uncomfortable."
"No, you're right. Are you uncomfortable?" she asks.
When he doesn't respond after a moment, Claire begins to give him space, but then Leon lifts his hand to graze her wrist, stopping her.
"I'm not. Feels like I'm making a dumb decision though."
Claire's laugh gets a smile out of him. "Wanna make a dumb decision and kiss me?"
"Yeah, sure."
The hand that touched her wrist rests on her hip, and Claire lays one hand on Leon's shoulder to bring him closer to her. Their lips meet sweetly at first, until Leon has both hands on her hips, tightening his grip. Claire opens her mouth to moan, and his tongue slides right in. She loves kissing—how hot it gets, the slick slide of someone's lips on hers—and kissing Leon is making her bubble over. She can't get any closer, but she tries, bringing her arms around his broad shoulders. The action causes her to stumble, her thigh brushing against his legs, and pressing against the noticeable bulge between them.
Claire behaves; she doesn't make a is that a gun in your pocket? joke. Leon startles anyway, groaning at the contact. He keeps his hands on her but separates their mouths, gasping. His lips are now the shade of the tinted lip gloss she applied earlier.
"This is bad," he says, already leaning back in to kiss her again.
Her laughter disappears between his teeth. "You wanna stop?"
"No. But I might lose my job."
She runs her tongue over his bottom lip, grinning at the noise that rumbles from his chest. "Not if we're quick and you're quiet." With that, she takes one of his hands off her and shoves it under her dress, right between her thighs. His fingers flatten against her, and sparks vibrate straight through her core. Claire chokes back a high-pitched moan, clinging to Leon as he presses harder into the damp fabric. She's not even ashamed that she's soaked through both her panties and biker shorts.
Leon looks both turned on and alarmed, like he can't decide between having his way with her on the floor or barricading himself across the room until someone comes. "You're this wet? How long have you been turned on?"
Claire's reaching the point where she'd rather do less talking and more moving. Hips humping his hand, it's another few seconds before she gives an actual response. "I—I don't know. A while? Does it matter?"
His features settle into something more pensive, watching silently as Claire tries to get herself off on his fingers through two layers of damp fabric. "Not really. It's just kind of slutty of you."
He doesn't blush after calling her a slut, and it manages to make her leak more. Claire breaks away from him and shoves her undergarments down before flinging them off. Her hands go to Leon's belt, but she pauses, tilting her head at him.
"Can I?" His trousers aren't that tight, yet his erection's straining like it might rip a hole in them. He nods, and Claire has him undone and out before his brain can catch up. Cool fingers wrap around his pulsating prick, sliding up to the tip where it's already glossy with drool. Not bad, not bad. Perfect size for her. Not too big, but enough for her to really feel it.
"Someone's wet, too," she teases, before pushing Leon to sit on the bench. She drops to her knees and then tugs his trousers further down to better reach his dick. Glassy-eyed and chest heaving, Leon watches her.
"You don't have to—"
Claire cups his erection, and Leon shuts his mouth, hips jutting toward her face. She strokes him loosely, mostly doing it to memorize the heavy feel of him in her hands. Her fingers trace up one large vein leading towards where his foreskin stretches around the head. More precum beads out, a drop spilling onto Claire's thumb.
"I wanna at least taste this in case someone gets here too soon," Claire says, before her mouth swallows his tip, tongue lapping up the fluid he's dripping.
"God—Claire," he groans, too loud for comfort, but Claire coos at his sensitivity. Balling his hands up at his side, he tries to refrain from thrusting as Claire sinks further down his dick. She slides off with a gasp, then goes back in with her hands to stroke the rest of him. His tip rests on her lips, and her tongue dips into the slit to coax out more precum.
"Y-you're taking your time for someone in a—fuck—rush," he rasps, dropping his chin down to his chest when she cups his balls.
"And you're being way too noisy," she hisses, swallowing him again. If they were somewhere else, Claire wouldn't mind the noises. Each moan Leon lets slip makes her clit harder, and she wishes they could be as loud as they want. She bobs her head, sinking further down until she's on the verge of choking. His dick is too good for a quick blowjob; despite the lack of time, she wants to enjoy it as much as she can.
She rests her hands on his thighs and feels the way the muscles jump underneath them. Tentatively, Leon lifts one hand and pushes back loose strands of hair away from Claire's face. When he settles it on the back of her head, she whines.
Dazed, Leon says, "You're really desperate. Drooling all over me." Claire squeezes her thighs together, slippery with how much she's dripped down her legs.
His grip tightens, but he doesn't push her head down. Instead, and much to her slight annoyance, he pulls himself out of her mouth. Lips swollen and dark pink, Claire rests her cheek against his leg.
"Too much?" she asks. She got lost in sucking him more than she thought she would. She could have gone on forever if given the chance. Leon looks as dishevelled as she feels, and she hopes they have enough time afterwards to clear out the post-sex haze. Can't have people knowing Officer Kennedy fucked a guest.
"I might cum in your mouth if you keep going." The words nestle deliciously inside Claire, and she mewls, humping the air as if it will give her the friction she needs. He's less hesitant and high-strung now that they've come this far. The desire in his eyes is clear and visible. "But I don't think that's where you want me to."
She hasn't let someone cum inside her in a long while. "Maybe. We'll see how I feel." He helps her up, and Claire stands between his knees, hips swaying. It's too risky to undress completely, but her dress is loose enough that she can roll up the hem and tuck part of it into the neckline.
"Touch me," she murmurs, guiding Leon's hands to rest over her breasts. Her nipples strain against the thin material of her bralette, and they become more erect under Leon's calloused palms. His eyes drink her in, trying to map her entire body: her perky tits, the silver piercing in her navel, the little angel wing tattooed on her hip, and the soft curls covering her pretty vulva.
Realizing how lucky he is, Leon says, "I'm glad no one else got assigned to you." An odd look passes over his face before he clicks his tongue. "Would you have fucked them, too?"
"That'd make me kind of slutty, wouldn't it?" she answers, biting her lip when he pulls the bralette down enough for her breasts to spill out. "Leon—" He tugs at her nipples, twisting them until on the edge of pain, but even that makes Claire whine in pleasure.
"It's Officer Kennedy," he corrects her. One hand glides around to grasp her asscheek, fingers digging into the plump flesh. Claire bruises easily; his fingerprints will be there for days. He holds the base of his dick and yanks her closer. "You wanna be a slut so bad, then make yourself cum on my cock."
Yes, sir. If Claire weren't shameless, she'd be more embarrassed at how Leon's words fill her up with exhilaration, overflowing to the point she hurries to climb on top of him. Her mouth waters, traces of drool creeping in the corners, and she cradles his jaw to connect their mouths again. She wants to make sure he tastes like her long after their encounter; that his dick aches from how snug she'll feel around him.
Claire grinds her damp vulva across his tip, smearing their slick together. His cockhead circles her clit, and she breathes hotly into his mouth, nerves jacked up with anticipation. The buzzing in her head shrouds all excuses for them to be sensible. Might as well do it, are Claire's favorite words, and she knows how desperate she looks right now. She hopes she's even more of a total wreck after this.
Holding onto Leon's shoulders, she sinks onto his dick. A moan comes out louder than intended, and Leon clamps a hand over her mouth. The action makes her continue to moan as she drops more of her weight. Every inch of him stretches her out. It seems like it won't end until he's pressed up against the back of her navel.
"You're so fucking loud," he pants, as if he's not being noisy either. He glances down at his lap to see the last inch of his cock disappear into her. "God, look at you."
The moment Leon's hand falls away, she holds him close to her chest and immediately bounces, speeding and dropping hard like she's trying to get him to spear right through her. The bench beneath them vibrates from their movements. If it weren't screwed down to the ground, it might be scraping across the floor.
Leon digs his heels into the floor to prevent them from flopping off the bench. Claire can feel his tongue across her tits, wetting her bralette and sucking her nipples through the material. Soon, he matches her pace, helping to lift her and then thrusting up when she starts to slip. His cock always hits, and Claire shakes, wanting so badly to just scream.
"Just like, just like that—ohh." She tilts his head back to kiss him again, but it's not coordinated, just heavy breathing and sloppy brushes of lips. The pleasure stemming from them is going to melt her, make her spill all over him and the floor.
If no one can hear her ramblings or Leon's throaty grunts, surely they can hear their movements. The squelching as her pussy drools down to his sack, the sharp slaps of skin as he fucks up into her. Leon's hands slide over her ass and use them as leverage to move her up and down, turning her into a toy for his enjoyment.
"Damn pussy's tight," he growls, and Claire finds herself nodding along, lust making her agree to whatever he says. "You were hoping to get fucked today."
"—Yes." One of his hands digs into her ass again, shoving her down harder, and she yelps, "Please spank me."
Leon lets out a surprised laugh, and there's a brief second of hesitation before his palm smacks her. Claire bites her lip, whining when he soothes the warm flesh by rubbing it. Her core swells up, on the verge of bursting, and there's a minor fear in her that she's going to make a big mess.
He claps the other side of her bottom, and Claire digs her nails into his back. "Uh!"
"You're a mess," he groans, eyes falling closed. "A sweet, messy girl."
"Leon," she slurs, brain reduced to only two thoughts: Leon's cock and cumming. "O-officer."
He doesn't reprimand her for the slip-up. Instead, he levels himself and rocks up into Claire so hard she has to grip the backrest to keep from falling off his lap. Her swollen clit makes contact with his pelvis on each impact. Sticky fluids cover her thighs and his waist. It's getting difficult to keep herself in check when all she wants is to enjoy being fucked out of her mind. "Oh god—"
"'N-need to finish this up," he says, hand reaching between them to thumb at her clit. "Come on, sweetheart. Fucking cum on me."
Claire's usually not one to come on command, but that's how she knows just how wound up she is. The wet thrusts, Leon's hold on her hip and his mouth on hers to cover up the squeals—her body tightens up, and a hazy sensation cuts through her. She can't think, can only gasp in short, stunted breaths as she rides out her orgasm.
"Good, Claire. Let it all out," he coos, cradling her trembling body. "'m close."
The orgasm leaves her dizzy and limp in Leon's arm, unable to do more than just lie there like a doll and let Leon hump her until he spills. Claire doesn't want to stop. She can keep going until he fucks another orgasm out of her or he cums.
Leon keens when she clenches around him. Claire kisses underneath his ear and says, "Thank you, Officer."
Time's up. Leon lifts her off him, face burning at the way Claire's walls continue to stick to him until they separate. A foamy ring sits at the base of his dick. "J—just doing my job, miss," he grunts, jerking himself off against her leg. A guttural sound ascends from him as thick spurts of cum spill down his knuckles and onto her thigh.
Claire's moving on auto-pilot when she takes his dirty hand and brings it toward her lips, lapping his mess up until his hand is shiny with spit.
Leon stares at her, astonished, and his softening dick gives one last twitch. "What the hell, Claire."
Before she can respond, a loud knock comes from the door, followed by, "You good in there? Sorry, it took long; I couldn't find the blasted tools. Give me 10 minutes, and I'll get you out of there."
"—Yes, sir!" Leon calls, almost dropping Claire when he stumbles up quickly to stand. "Sorry, shit." Claire merely pats his cheek.
She finds tissues stuffed in her backpack to wipe her legs off. Her panties are too drenched to comfortably wear, but the biker shorts are somewhat better. When Leon finishes tucking himself back in and smoothing down his uniform, he turns to Claire for reassurance.
"How do I look?" he asks, frowning when Claire snorts. "What? What?"
"Your hair is wild," she snickers, rummaging in her bag again until she finds the cheap, little wire brush at the bottom. Leon stays still as she brushes his hair, acting weirdly timid for someone who just fucked her.
"Looking good, Officer. You no longer resemble a baby chick." Leon nods, only looking at her once she's distracted, fixing her own hair.
They look as normal as can be by the time Leon's colleague has the doorknob off and can push open the door. The officer apologizes to Claire for the trouble, to which she replies, "It's okay. Officer Kennedy kept me safe."
Leon's ears redden, but the other officer doesn't seem to notice as they all leave the room.
After signing out, Leon escorts Claire outside, much to her surprise. She figured he'd scurry off once she announced her shadowing hour was completed.
"Thank you for your help," she says, twirling around to give him one last wave. Poor guy still looks rattled, but he lets himself smile, at least.
"Any time," he answers, almost too proudly, until he realizes what he said and coughs awkwardly. "Uh."
Claire's not really looking to get tangled up with someone who works in the same building as her brother—casually or not. As she turns to leave, she thinks she can still give Leon some consideration.
"We'll see," she calls over her shoulder. "I know where you work."