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“Hey, we're here.”
“Huh? Fuck!” Chris sits up straight so fast his head spins and he shakes it, feeling Leon's hand tighten on his knee. “Jesus, sorry.” He scrubs his hands down his face and shifts to sit up in the back seat. Fuck, he feels a hell of a lot better after that short nap. Short? Wait. “What time is it? Where are we?”
“You slept the whole way,” Leon says dryly, turned around in the driver's seat and regarding him with that cool amusement that never fails to do something to Chris' dick. “It's almost 6pm and we're at my house.”
“Ah, damn.” Chris blows out a breath. “Sorry, didn't mean to sleep the whole time, I just—”
“Crashed out after a ten-hour flight following a pretty shitty mission if your increasingly pissy texts were meant to be believed?” Leon's eyebrows have climbed up to his hairline and his mouth is twitching. His thumb is rubbing circles into Chris' knee. “It's fine. At least it stopped you bitching about my car.”
“I hate this car,” Chris informs him. “It's so fucking stupid. You're a godawful driver, Kennedy, you're gonna fuck it up at some point.”
Leon tilts his head to the side. “It's insured. I'll buy a new one.” A single lamp in Leon's driveway illuminates his face just right and Chris' heart stutters in his chest. Years of their... thing, and Chris still wants him as badly as that first time they kissed, hot and frantic and pissed at each other, years and years ago, decades ago at this point, Leon's hands fisted into Chris' jacket, Chris' hands buried in Leon's soft hair. And Leon—Leon is still so beautiful, so striking. Age has done nothing to deteriorate his looks; hell, it might even be the opposite.
Fuck. Chris swallows hard, feeling that slow burn of desire radiate through him, right here in this godawful car. It's what Leon does to him, what he's always done to Chris. “You know what would make me like this car?”
Leon narrows his eyes at him, like he's expecting a trap. “What?”
Chris crooks his finger at him. “Come here,” he says and he spreads his legs wide in blatant invitation.
Leon's eyes widen fractionally, but his mouth pulls into a tight line. It's a funny contradiction on his pretty, pretty face. “You're not serious.”
“What, you've never had sex in a car?” Chris asks, all innocence. He's pretty sure he's got this and it really would make him like this car. Better than he does right now, anyway. Back seat's pretty spacious, it could totally work. They can make this work.
“I'm not having sex in this car,” Leon clarifies, “in my fucking driveway, where people could see.”
Bull-fucking-shit. “You live in the middle of fucking nowhere, Leon. No one's gonna drive by.” He leans forward and cups Leon's cheek, pressing their mouths together. God, he's fucking missed this, Leon's lips against his own, that warm, easily familiarity. It's not like Chris has been a monk since the last time they did this, but nobody ever gets his motor running quite the way Leon Kennedy does. It's a gift or a curse, depending on how grumpy Chris is when he thinks about it. “Live a little,” he murmurs against Leon's lips.
Leon groans and drops his head to Chris' shoulder, awkwardly bent around the front seat. “You know I have a perfectly fine bed, right? It's right there, in the house.” He gestures out the windshield, where his house sits, a handful of windows lit up, looking warm and cozy. “You've been in my bed. It's great for fucking. I'll even let you tie me up, how does that sound?”
“Mhm, like you should get into the back seat with me instead,” Chris says, biting his lip to keep from laughing. He runs a hand down Leon's shoulder, squeezes his bicep. “I'll tie you up back here.”
Leon scoffs. “With what?” He makes to turn around again, reaching for the door handle, but Chris slides his hand back up, into his neck, and holds him by the throat, very gently. It gets the message across. Leon goes very still. He swallows hard against Chris' palm, his head turned away from Chris. “The bedroom—” he tries again, his voice dropping to that lower register Chris likes so, so much.
“I'm not interested in your bedroom right now. Take off your jacket,” Chris says, keeping his tone light and even because casual dismissiveness tends to get to Leon. And he wants Leon squirming and off-balance and not knowing what Chris is going to hit him with next. Not that Chris actually knows, he's just fucking winging it here, only a vague shape of a plan forming in the back of his mind.
There's a brief pause and then Leon starts shrugging out of his fur-collared jacket, tossing it on the passenger seat. Chris can feel his pulse racing under his palm. “I hate this so much,” he grouses, raising a hand to where Chris' is still wrapped around his neck and dropping it again.
“Liar,” Chris says fondly. “Boots off.” He has to let go of Leon when he leans over to start unlacing his boots, so he sits back in the middle of the back seat and crosses his arms over his chest, watching Leon obey, the rear view mirror giving him another angle. Leon's face is slightly flushed. Oh yeah, this is working out the way Chris had hoped. The boots and black socks get deposited in the passenger side foot well. “Shirt,” says Chris and Leon blows out a breath.
“Chris,” Leon starts and his tone is decidedly pleading. “It's such a nice, comfortable mattress—”
“One more word about the fucking mattress and I'll find a way to gag you,” Chris cuts him off, making sure he sounds almost bored by the threat even though his dick jumps in his pants.
Leon snaps his mouth shut, his jaw audibly clicking, and pulls his shirt off. Fuck, did his shoulders get broader? They definitely got broader.
Chris has to take a deep breath and will himself to calm down a little. Coming in his pants would be so fucking counter-productive. He clears his throat and asks, “this getting you going?”
Leon doesn't answer, which is an answer in and of itself, but Chris still likes hearing it, so he leans forward between the front seats and reaches for Leon's chin when he turns his head away.
“Leon,” he says, drawing out his name, “I asked you a question.” He drops his gaze to Leon's crotch, but the jeans he's wearing don't reveal much, despite how tightly they cling to his thighs. “What's wrong? Normally you like talking so much.”
“Fuck off,” says Leon and adds, “yes,” through gritted teeth, meeting Chris' eyes. “It's getting me going, Jesus.”
“Great,” Chris says and lets go of his face. “Jeans. Underwear.”
Watching the muscle twitch in Leon's jaw is immensely gratifying. Leon rolls his shoulders and stares up at the roof of the car, his hands moving to his belt and loosening it. “What about you?” The belt gets pulled through the loops and ends up on top of the jacket.
“What about me?”
Leon glares at him. The sound of his zipper being lowered is very loud. “You're still wearing all your clothes.”
“Very observant, agent Kennedy.” Chris snaps out a sharp salute, grinning at Leon's scowl. It's a good point, especially since his dick is straining hard against his pants by now, but he's having way too much fun right now to get naked himself. “Faster, please.”
“Oh, well, since you said please,” Leon mutters and lifts his ass up from the seat and shoves his jeans down, twisting and kicking awkwardly in the narrow space under the steering wheel to get them fully off his legs. His black boxers do absolutely nothing to hide his erection and he exhales quietly, licking his lips before sliding them off too. “There. Happy now?”
“Never been happier,” says Chris, resettling himself and spreading his legs again, one foot in each foot well. He drops one hand to his inner thigh, watching Leon watch the move, and motions for Leon with the other. “Now come back here.”
“Fuck,” Leon says under his breath, but he does as he's told, pushing between the front seats and crawling into Chris' lap. He's fully hard already, his dick slick with pre-come, and it takes him a second to realize Chris wants him spread wide and open, his knees on the outside of Chris' thighs. A shudder runs through his body when Chris guides him into position with a hand on his hip and he lets out an audible whimper.
“Just like that,” Chris says quietly, dragging his hands up and down Leon's bare thighs, thumbs digging into the skin on the inside, really proud of himself for avoiding Leon's dick. “You are so fucking beautiful.” And flexible as hell, the spread of his thighs doesn't even seem to strain him.
Leon's teeth sink into his bottom lip and his eyes are dark when he looks at Chris. “Stop teasing,” he says, his voice rough, and he rolls his hips down, pressing his cock against Chris' through the fabric of Chris' pants. A sputtering gasp escapes Chris lips and his hands fly up to clamp around Leon's hips, trying to hold him still, but it's a little bit like trying to grab hold of an eel, Leon's that squirmy and eager. Chris rocks up in answer, despite trying very hard not to, and Leon buries his face in his neck, mouthing at the skin there.
Oh, he's going to come in his pants if he's not careful, fucking hell, Redfield—and then Leon's hands find their way below Chris' waist and he's unbuckling Chris' belt and tugging on Chris' zipper and shit, he has to put a stop to this, he has different plans. He flails for a second, panting, and shivering at the way Leon's moaning brokenly in his ear, but finally manages to regain some semblance of his control, catching Leon's right wrist in one hand and sliding his other hand up Leon's neck into his hair, yanking his head back hard.
“Shit!” Leon cries out, his whole body going taut. Yeah, Leon likes that a little bit too much, if the way his cock fucking twitches is any indication. “Chris—fuck!”
“Stop,” Chris orders him and a spike of heat flares through him when Leon stills immediately, dragging in rough gulps of air. “Don't move.” He gives Leon's head a shake and repeats, “don't move.”
“I'm not, I'm not,” Leon gasps, “but you gotta—Chris, get on with it, Jesus.”
“Hang on,” he says and releases Leon's hair, ignores the pathetic whine he gets in response, and fumbles around until he gets his hand on his duffel bag. All the way at the bottom are the things he's looking for, the bottle of lube and the handcuffs he tossed in there just in case.
Just in case is here.
Leon's lips part at the sight of the handcuffs and he reflexively more than anything else tries to pull his already captured wrist free from Chris' grasp, with no success. “Shit,” he groans out, “okay. Okay, yes.” He sucks in a deep breath and moves to put his other hand behind himself as well.
Handcuffing someone's hands behind their back when you can't see what you're doing isn't something Chris is great at, but Leon's being so very cooperative, tipping his head onto Chris' shoulder, breathing hard, and he whimpers, very softly, when the cuffs click shut around his wrists. It pulls his shoulders back, thrusts out his chest, and Chris has to bite his lip hard to keep back his own embarrassing noises at the sight. “Don't pull too hard,” he warns, his own voice almost unrecognizably low and rough, “these are the real deal, not the nice padded ones.”
“No, those are up in my bedroom,” Leon says, voice smothered by Chris' shirt. “In my nightstand. Which is next to my bed.”
“Mhm.” Chris pulls Leon's head away by his hair, eliciting what could very generously be described as not not a squeak. Leon clamps his mouth shut, seemingly mortified by the sound that just came out of his mouth. “Were you talking about your mattress again?”
He can almost see the wheels spinning in Leon's head as he parses the question and figures out what Chris means by it.
“I—what? Fuck. Shit. No. No, I wasn't.” It's almost believable too, Leon's eyes flicking up to meet his from under lowered lashes. His dick is achingly hard between his legs, straining upwards, practically begging to be touched. Well. Leon hasn't quite earned that just yet.
He presses his thumb against Leon's mouth. “I'll let it pass, Kennedy, but you're on very thin ice. Understood?”
The somewhat hunted look on Leon's face makes room for something a little more calculating and his tongue flicks out to curl around Chris' thumb before he leans in real close and whispers into Chris' ear, “yes, sir.”
If his dick hadn't already been painfully hard, those words in that low, suggestive tone would've gotten him there all the way from fucking zero. Chris' whole body flushes red hot, his palms grow clammy, his breath sticks in his throat. That damn smirk on Leon's face tells him Leon knows exactly what he just did and Chris grabs his face with both his hands and yanks him closer for a sharp, biting kiss, tongue pushing into Leon's mouth right away, unbalancing him, making him fall into Chris' body.
Teeth clack together as they kiss frantically, sloppily, Chris biting at Leon's lower lip until Leon's practically humping him, body twisting to get more friction. He runs one hand down to Leon's hip, then behind him to grab the chain between the cuffs, pulling it tight. Leon gasps into his mouth, eyes flying open, groaning when Chris uses the leverage to pull him back and away. His other hand finally frees his cock, the ache becoming almost unbearable. The cool air of the Porsche's climate control feels nice on his heated skin and his dick twitches hard when free of the confines of his pants and underwear.
“Chris,” Leon says, ragged, his eyes dropping down to Chris' cock. He struggles against the cuffs for a few seconds, eventually giving up, slumping down and dragging in air like a man dying. “I want—tell me you have lube.”
“I have lube,” Chris says and then, “lean forward.”
It's awkward, uncapping the bottle and slicking his fingers up one-handed, but he manages it as Leon buries his head in Chris' chest and raises his hips up so Chris can slide a hand between his legs, underneath his cock and balls, and gently circle his hole.
“Oh my God,” Leon groans out, rubbing his face against Chris' shirt. His cock pulses hard between their bodies. Chris isn't much better off, his dick swaying back and forth, throbbing hard.
“See, this was a great idea,” Chris says, working two fingers into Leon's ass at once, making him writhe on his fingers, needy moans and pleas falling from his lips. “Gonna think about this every time I see this stupid-ass car now. Makin' memories right here.”
“Fuck you,” Leon snarls out, knocking his head against Chris' shoulder as if to emphasize his words. “As long as you know that—ahh ah—you're cleaning up after this, fuck—” He rocks back on Chris' fingers as Chris slides in a third one, unnecessary since Leon's more than ready, but Chris likes this, likes having Leon wriggle and squirm on his fingers, likes fingering him until his words come out all reedy and broken. It makes Chris kinda wish they were actually up in Leon's bed right now, because it's roomy as hell (and his mattress really is that nice) and he could spread Leon out and open and really get to work on him, but he's working with what he's got here.
Besides, this was his fucking idea. If he suggests taking this to the bedroom now, Leon will figure out a way to actually murder him even with his hands cuffed behind his back.
Regretfully, he pulls his fingers out of Leon's ass with an obscene wet sound that is so goddamn loud in the confines of the Porsche, drowning out even Leon's choked off gasp. Chris wraps his fingers around his own dick, slicking himself up with more lube, mouth falling open on a moan at how good it feels. He squirms on the seat, pushing his pants down to about mid-thigh, smearing lube everywhere and making the very conscious decision not to think about that.
“Chris,” Leon says, desperation deepening his voice. “Redfield. Fuck you, stop jerking off and let me—” He bucks his hips, rises up on his knees and shuffles forward, repositioning himself for what he wants, for what they both want.
Chris catches his hip and holds his dick steady as Leon lowers his body slowly, blindly, panting wetly, mouth open and eyes half-closed. It doesn't take them long to connect, the head of Chris' dick brushing against Leon's rim—a needy whine spills out of Leon's mouth, a gurgle escapes the back of Chris' throat—before pressing in. Leon bears down with a low moan, taking Chris slowly but steadily.
“Fuck, I almost forgot how big—” Leon cuts himself off and shifts his weight, goes up again on his knees for a few agonizingly long seconds before sinking back down, his slick heat swallowing Chris' dick. “Gimme—gimme a second here, Jesus.”
It's extremely flattering and incredibly, blindingly hot, watching Leon struggle to take Chris' cock. It's not like he hasn't done so before (many, many times), but it's been a while for them (Chris knows how long it's been for him and determinedly does not wonder about how long it's been for Leon), and it's always an adjustment for Leon, every time. Leon loves it, though, he's fucking rock-hard and sweat's broken out all across his chest, dampening his chest hair, making the muscles stand out.
Chris' fingers are wrapped painfully hard around the chain of Leon's cuffs and he has to forcefully relax them one by one, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head as Leon takes his goddamn time taking his dick in all the way. “Fuck,” he says, his voice gravel, “fuck, fuck—you're killing me here, Kennedy.”
“Fuck all the way off, I'm doing all the work here,” Leon says from between clenched teeth, spreading his thighs wider and huffing out short, sharp breaths as he sinks down. His hair's a complete mess, sticking to his forehead with sweat and falling into his eyes and he irritably shakes his head trying to dislodge the strands. “My hair,” he complains and Chris takes pity, pushes his hair back and out of his face, and holds his chin as he watches the expression on his face when he finally bottoms out. He's so hot and so tight around Chris, it's all he can do not to clamp his hands around Leon's narrow waist and rut up into him, fucking him hard and fast and deep until he comes screaming Leon's name. It's what he wants, it's what his body is demanding he do, but he fights the impulse, grinding his ass down against the plush leather seat, desperately trying not to come straight away.
“Oh,” Leon moans, body shaking, and he licks his lips. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Move,” Chris grits out, his thighs trembling with the effort to keep still, to let Leon set the pace here.
“Yes, sir,” Leon gasps and Chris helplessly bucks up at getting addressed like that, letting a moan escape his lips. Leon fucking finally does start moving for real, slow at first, getting used to Chris buried inside him, then speeding up as they try to find their usual rhythm. Chris keeps a hand on his hipbone, fingers digging bruising into the skin, and his other hand pulls Leon's cuffs tighter together, drawing his shoulders back, making him choke on air with the way he's being forced to present himself. Leon's dick bounces in the space between their bodies, the tip smearing wetly across Chris' shirt. No real friction for him there and Chris isn't gonna touch him. Leon's gonna come untouched on Chris' dick or not at all, and Leon knows this.
It hits Chris then that he's really having sex in the back seat of a $260,000 car. Leon's fucking riding him in the back seat of a ludicrously expensive Porsche and he didn't even take that much convincing.
“You're thinking too loud,” Leon says through clenched teeth, his hips rising up and down, his hole swallowing Chris' cock to the hilt. “Come on, Redfield, put your back into it. Shit!” He lets out a loud whine as Chris pushes his hips up, grinding his cock in deep. “Fuck—Jesus... ahh!”
“I love this car so much,” Chris babbles out, rocking up to meet Leon's ass as it slams down, his hand clenched at Leon's waist. “I'm never gonna sa—say anything bad about it ever again—holy shit, Leon—”
“You're a fucking liar.” Leon is breathing hard, writhing in Chris' lap, trying to find just the right angle for him and Chris can tell when he hits it, because his eyes go wide and his head falls back and his thighs start shaking and then he's moving faster and faster, rolling his hips, grunts and moans falling from his lips and oh fuck, he's the most beautiful thing Chris has seen since... well, the last time he laid eyes on Leon.
Sweat slides down the long, exposed column of Leon's throat as he grinds down on Chris' dick, hindered by the height of the car, the cuffs binding his wrists together, Chris' firm hand on his hip. He can't ride Chris the way he usually does, hands braced on Chris' chest or against the headboard or fingers tangled with Chris'. He has to work with what Chris gives him and Chris, feeling generous because he does really want to watch Leon come and make a mess in this stupid fucking car, fucks up steadily, deeply, saliva gathering in his mouth, feeling his thighs shake with the strain.
“Close?” Chris pants out, circling his hips up, moaning as he slides in and out of Leon's tight, wet hole. Leon clenches around him, milking him, using his ass to drive Chris absolutely crazy. He's fully dressed and so fucking warm, sweat is making his shirt stick to his chest.
“Keep going, please please please—Chris—”
He likes it when Leon begs. Maybe a little too much. When his voice goes throaty and pleading and his eyes go dark and hungry. When he gets desperate and starts promising to do all kinds of things for Chris, to Chris, to let Chris do whatever he wants, when it becomes easier for Chris to pin him down or tie him up. There's a lot of fun in the fight Leon will occasionally put up when he wants to be made to submit, made to obey, made to bend or kneel or be silent, but fuck if having Leon pliant and pleading underneath him isn't what sends Chris into the stratosphere of horniness.
He likes it a lot. Leon refuses to actually fucking talk about it, but the way his body reacts every time Chris puts his hands on him and manhandles him is answer enough.
“Faster,” he tells Leon, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when Leon immediately obeys, picking up speed, slamming down hard and fast. Heat shoots up his spine, his cock throbs inside Leon, air leaves his lungs in a rush, making him choke. “Make yourself come—” Leon shudders, gasping out what may or may not have been Chris' name, “—let me see it, Kennedy, c'mon, you can do it, put on a show for me—”
“I need,” Leon gasps out, “please, Chr—sir, I need—touch me—”
“No,” Chris says, allowing a vicious smile to tug at his lips long enough to Leon to catch it through his half-lidded eyes. “Just like this, Leon, you can do it.”
Leon swears, voice raspy and wet, spit shining on his lips. Chris has gotten pretty good at reading his body, reading his tells, at knowing when he's about to come, and he's close, he's so goddamn close, Chris is sure of it, and then Leon whines, low in his throat. His whole body stiffens and tenses, stuttering breaths escaping his throat as he comes hard, his come coating Chris' shirt, the muscles of his stomach and thighs taut and hard.
And that's it for Chris, that's enough, seeing Leon's body shiver and shake and watching him fall apart on Chris' cock, that's what tips him over the edge too, grinding his dick up deep into Leon's ass, rutting harder and faster until he's breathless with it, marking Leon's hip with his bruising fingers, pulling so hard on the cuffs that Leon's bent backwards, cries falling from his lips. He bites his lip bloody as he comes, jaw locked, grunting between his clenched teeth, “Leon, fuck, I'm coming, fuck fuck fuck—”
It's overwhelming, having Leon writhing in his lap, still shaking, feeling him clench around his dick as he's coming in hot, thick spurts, filling him up. Chris' vision blurs, sweat drips down his temples into his neck and he lets go of Leon's cuffs, sliding his hand up to the back of Leon's neck, bringing him closer because he needs to kiss him, needs to feel his mouth against his. They kiss through the comedown, open-mouthed and filthy, tongues sliding around each other, noses bumping against each other.
“Holy shit,” Leon says eventually, pressing his face into Chris' neck.
“Yeah,” Chris agrees, lazily stroking a hand down the curve of Leon's bare spine. Goosebumps rise up under his finger tips and Leon shifts in his lap. Chris is still buried inside him, to the hilt. It feels nice to stay that way for another minute. “Told you this was a great idea. I like this car a lot more now.”
“Liar,” Leon says again and he bites Chris, hard enough to make him wince, hard enough to leave teeth marks. Chris likes it. “Gonna undo my cuffs now, Redfield?” He pulls on them pointedly, the metallic sound sending new shivers down Chris' spine, as does the way Leon's muscles tense at the motion. He can't get hard again, not this quickly, but his dick is still doing its damnedest. He could draw this out longer, make Leon ask nicely, but he kind of wants to stretch his limbs and shower and eat, and then take Leon up to that very nice mattress and do all of this all over again, but slower. They don't have much time this time. It sucks. It always sucks, but tonight it sucks more. There's an aching want deep inside him and it's getting worse every time he sees Leon and then has to leave him again.
After a brief search for the goddamn keys, he reaches behind Leon and undoes the cuffs, bringing his arms forward gently, rubbing them up and down to make sure blood is flowing properly. Leon hisses quietly but stills and watches him intently, shivering when Chris presses into the marks the cuffs left on his wrists.
“Hurts?” Chris asks in the sudden silence of the car, looking at the bruising and scratches. “You pulled on them.”
Leon shakes his head, shifting a little in Chris' lap. “It's fine, Chris. I wanted this.” He shakes out his wrists and frames Chris' face with his strong fingers, bending down to kiss him slowly. When he pulls back, his eyes are soft. “What time's your flight tomorrow?”
“Two pm,” Chris answers. “Doesn't give us much time, I know.”
“Better make the most of it, then,” Leon says, and kisses him again.