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By the time Leon makes it past the front door of his apartment, he feels like he’s going to shake out of his own skin. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, but it never becomes less unpleasant. He breathes in. He unties his boots. He pulls them off, sets them down. He breathes out. He puts his keys on the small side table by the door. He walks further into the apartment; grits his teeth against the throbbing ache of his right ankle; hears a voice say, “Hey”; and thinks, quite emphatically, Fuck.
The smile’s already fading off of Chris’s face by the time Leon turns to look at him. “Hey,” Leon parrots back at him, trying for a smile of his own, but he can feel the chance to make this a good reunion slipping through his shaking fingers.
In all honestly, Leon had forgotten that Chris was going to be in D.C. this week, staying in Leon’s apartment like he usually does now that they’re together. He wants to curse himself for forgetting, but he doesn’t know where else he would’ve gone, what else he would’ve done. Could’ve gotten a drink or five, maybe, but he’s been trying to drink less and there’s no way he’d do this in front of random witnesses, let alone add alcohol to the mix. Getting a hotel room just a few miles from his own fucking apartment so he could lose his shit in peace is a little too pathetic, even for him. It’s too late now, anyway. Better to salvage what he can.
He runs his gaze up and down Chris’s body, plays it up as much as he can. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Leon says, and he means it, even if he’s also struggling to summon up the flirtation that usually comes so naturally to him. Chris looks warm and steady, comfortable in his long-faded sweatpants and an old band T-shirt.
“And you definitely look sore,” Chris replies. A frown’s already taking up residence on his face as he steps closer to Leon, giving Leon a once-over of his own—one that’s far more clinical than sexual.
“Well, that hurts,” Leon says lightly. “What, no declarations of how much you missed me? No sense of wonder that you always manage to forget just how hot I am when we’re apart for a while?”
“I did miss you, and you are gorgeous, even when you’re all banged up. Which you are right now. Did you just get back from a mission?”
“Yep, and I’m all ready for some R&R,” Leon replies, heroically resisting the urge to make a joke about other kinds of banging.
Chris raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, you mean eating a meal, icing your ankle, and going to sleep?”
“I ate less than two hours ago,” which is true—ration bars are filling and nutritious; that’s the whole point of them. “And I could think of other ways I’d rather relax.”
“And rest?”
Leon rolls his eyes at Chris’s needlessly pointed tone. “I’m too keyed up to sleep right now. An orgasm or two would probably help with that.”
Chris sighs a little. Leon’s starting to worry that maybe Chris just… isn’t interested, which would be a bit of a bummer now that Leon himself is warming up to the idea of some good ol’ distraction sex.
But just when he’s about to back off and give the other man an out, Chris gives him another once-over, steps closer, wraps a gentle hand around the back of Leon’s head, and leans in to kiss him. Leon almost twitches away, instinctive, but this is Chris. Chris is safe. And sometimes he gets an odd look on his face when Leon avoids his touch, and upsetting Chris would be counterproductive.
Plus, Leon’s almost certain that he wants to be touched right now. He definitely needs it—his whole body feels like a live wire in need of grounding. But want can be harder for him to figure out, sometimes.
Still, again: this is Chris, and Leon trusts the other man to give him what he needs even when he can’t trust himself to. Sure, it’s annoying when Chris checks in with him about eating and drinking water and sleeping like Leon isn’t a self-sufficient adult, but it probably annoys Chris that he has to. At least Chris gets something out of this kind of caretaking, and the feeling of Chris’s hand cupping the back of his skull is giving Leon something worth having, too.
Chris pulls away, but he doesn’t go far, just rests his forehead against Leon’s. “You’re a menace,” he says, but his voice is fond. “Post-mission sex it is, then.”
“I mean, if you don’t want to—”
“No, no, you’ve talked me into it. I’m sure I’ll manage somehow.” Chris’s smile is infectious, even now.
Leon’s response of “Well, just let me know if you get too tired” earns him an eyeroll and another kiss, deeper than the first and the opposite of negative reinforcement. Chris should know better than to reward Leon’s behavior, really, but Leon’s glad that he somehow hasn’t figured that out yet.
Chris tilts his head a little, and the kiss turns into more of an outright make out session. Leon closes his eyes, sees the afterimage of a corpse, and opens them again. If he clutches Chris’s shoulders a bit too tightly after taking hold of them, Chris doesn’t complain.
Leon loses track of time for a while. It’s getting easier to focus only on the present moment: the syrupy slide of their mouths, Chris’s tongue against his, the warmth of Chris’s body radiating outwards even though they aren’t fully pressed together, the heat building between Leon’s legs.
Chris eventually pulls back again. A thin line of saliva links their mouths for a moment before breaking, which is one of those things that are bizarrely sexy in the heat of the moment.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” Chris’s voice is raspy in a way that makes Leon reflexively shiver. Leon’s never been big on pet names, but the way Chris says them has been changing his mind.
Leon hesitates for a moment before replying, “Just… Can you decide?”
Chris looks a bit uncertain, which is understandable. It’s an unusual request. Usually, Leon prefers to be in control. But—Leon doesn’t want to make any decisions right now. He shouldn’t.
“Come on, Captain, boss me around a little.”
Chris is still eyeing him a bit cautiously, but his voice already has a ring of authority to it when he says, “Nothing heavy. And you will safeword out if you want or need to.”
“Yes, sir,” Leon says, making a frankly heroic effort to keep sarcasm out of his voice so Chris will believe him. Chris rolls his eyes a little, but he clearly chooses to trust Leon, stepping back into Leon’s space and kissing him deep and slow.
The kiss only lasts a few moments this time before Chris draws away again and says, “Come on, let’s go to the bedroom.”
Leon follows in his wake, pulling his shirt off right after Chris takes his own off. He lets himself limp a little since Chris already knows he’s injured and there’s no need to hide from him. When they reach Leon’s room, Chris tugs his sweatpants off too. He’d apparently been going commando, and Leon has a hard time dragging his eyes away from Chris’s half-hard cock.
“You can leave your pants on if it’s more comfortable,” Chris says. To his credit, he’s not smirking too widely when Leon manages to refocus on his face. “I’m just gonna fuck your throat for now, if that’s okay. All you’ll have to do is lie there and look pretty.”
That’s just fine with Leon. He likes giving head in general, even likes getting face-fucked in the rare instances he’s sleeping with someone he trusts. It’s a comfortable amount of physical contact—his mouth’s involved, obviously, and maybe someone’s touching his face or hair if he allows it, but the rest of his body gets left alone.
“I am good at looking pretty,” he agrees before sitting on the edge of the bed to pull his pants off. He doesn’t always get all that wet on his own thanks to years of being on T, but if he does, he’d rather not have his underwear sticking to him uncomfortably. “How do you want me?”
“That’s a dangerous question,” Chris observes. “But on your back with your head on a pillow should be easiest on your ankle.”
Once Leon finishes tugging his pants off—carefully, under Chris’s watchful eyes—he follows orders, reclining back against a pillow. Chris glances between another pillow and Leon’s ankle, like he’s considering asking Leon to prop that up, too. But he doesn’t say anything, probably because he thinks Leon wouldn’t tolerate that level of coddling.
Instead, Chris climbs onto the bed, knee-walking until he’s straddling Leon with his cock right in front of Leon’s face. Leon can’t resist leaning forward to lick teasingly at the head, which is already dripping a little. Chris lets out an immensely satisfying groan before threading a hand through Leon’s hair to tug him away. If Chris minds that it’s still damp from Leon’s hasty post-mission shower to get the worst of the blood and dirt and soot off of him, it doesn’t show.
“Good?” Chris checks, even though he hasn’t really done anything yet. Leon makes a mental note of the fact that if he’s ever in a place where he wants Chris to get rough with him for some reason, he’ll apparently have to look a lot less pathetic than he does today.
“Yeah,” Leon says since he can’t nod with Chris holding his head still.
“Tap me if that changes,” Chris orders, and then he finally, blessedly presses his cock against Leon’s lips. Leon drops his jaw automatically, and Chris slides right in.
Chris’s thrusts are slow and shallow at first, letting both of them get used to it. Leon can feel Chris getting fully hard, his cock filling more and more of Leon’s mouth until it’s bumping up against the back of it. Leon swallows on the next thrust, and Chris moans as the head of his cock slips into Leon’s throat. It’s a good sound, solid evidence that Leon’s not fucking everything up today.
Chris lets go of some of his self-control after that, or maybe just loses it. His rhythm speeds up as he feeds more and more of his cock down Leon’s throat, balls tapping against Leon’s chin with each thrust.
Leon closes his eyes. There’s enough physical stimulation that it’s probably safe to do that now. He can just focus on the warmth of Chris’s thick thighs bracketing him, the taste and weight of Chris’s cock on his tongue, the scratch of Chris’s pubic hair against his face when Leon finally manages to swallow him all the way down, the slight ache in his jaw from being stretched so wide after hours of clenched teeth, the slick wet noise of it all.
Leon breathes shallowly through his nose and feels his head start to empty out. He doesn’t have to do anything but lie here and keep his mouth open. Leon was right to trust Chris with the decision-making, this is good—
And then Chris bucks his hips a little too much and thrusts at an angle that Leon wasn’t prepared for. For a split-second Leon’s choking on smoke again, lungs straining to get oxygen in a burning room. It’s over in an instant but not quickly enough—Chris pulls out, cups Leon’s face in one big hand, and asks, “Where’s your head at?”
Leon draws in a breath and tries to play dumb, a strategy that’s worked for him a depressing number of times over the years. “What?”
Chris, of course, isn’t fooled. He looks steadily at Leon and repeats, “Where’s your head at?”
Leon sighs through his nose and presses his face against Chris’s hand. Chris tightens his grip a little. It’s nowhere near hard enough to leave bruises, but it does feel grounding. Leon focuses on the sensation for a few seconds until he’s able to honestly say, “It’s here.”
“Okay,” Chris says after a moment. He starts to shift backwards, away from Leon. Humiliatingly, Leon lets out a reflexive noise of protest. Chris stops mid-motion, takes one of Leon’s hands in his own, and levels him with a gaze that’s so soft and reassuring Leon can’t even look directly at it. “I’m just scooting down a bit. Gonna get some bump ‘n’ grind action going, if you’re good with that.”
Leon snorts a little, feels some strange tension fade, and nods because he knows Chris won’t move unless he does. The face-fucking really was good, but Leon knows better than to think Chris will continue that now. Chris squeezes his hand and moves down the bed so he’s kneeling above one of Leon’s thighs.
He strokes his other hand down Leon’s side as he moves, like Leon’s a fucking—nervous horse in need of soothing, or something. The way he jolts at the touch before managing to relax into it probably bears out that comparison, but—whatever.
“You good to spread your legs?” Chris asks.
“For you? Always,” Leon responds with a leer. It… might not actually be true, but it sounds good in the moment. Chris meets his remark with a raised eyebrow even as he shifts to rest in the cradle of Leon’s spread thighs. Leon, meanwhile, makes very sure not to visibly tense or wince as he adjusts the way his wrapped ankle’s resting on the bed.
Chris rolls his hips once, twice, the full length of his cock rubbing over Leon’s hole and cock. It’s a bit too dry to really feel good, even with the spit still coating Chris’s dick. Chris obviously reaches the same conclusion and looks towards the nightstand where Leon keeps the lube.
Leon twists his torso around to grab it without being prompted. Something in his back pops, and Leon lets out a little sigh of relief from the loss of some tension he didn’t even know he was carrying. While he’s rifling through the drawer, he takes the thick hand towel he’s started keeping in the nightstand too for this very situation.
“Thanks,” Chris says when Leon passes him the lube, and then he lifts both an eyebrow and his hips when Leon starts tilting his own hips up to wedge the towel underneath him.
“What, are you volunteering to sleep in the wet spot? I’ve never slept with anyone else who uses as much lube as you do,” Leon says in response to Chris’s unasked question. Chris looks a bit… offended? Worried? A bit something, so Leon hurriedly adds, “It’s not a problem, or anything. I’d just rather not have to change my sheets before I can go to bed.”
All Chris says in response is “Smart,” so hopefully Leon’s attempt at reassurance fixed whatever issue he caused with his original statement. Whatever the case, Chris doesn’t hesitate to liberally slick up his cock and then rub the excess lube over Leon’s cunt. He lingers a little on Leon’s dick, stroking it at an angle that he knows drives Leon crazy.
Leon can’t control the way his mouth falls open and his eyes roll back a little, even though Chris is staring avidly (embarrassingly) at Leon’s face. At least Leon’s blush can be explained away by exertion.
“You said something about grinding,” Leon reminds him. Chris blinks a few times before nodding and moving both his hands to brace himself before lowering his hips back against Leon.
This time when Chris fucks down, it feels electric. Obviously, the slide’s much smoother, and Leon’s cock has fully perked up now too thanks to Chris paying specific attention to it. They groan almost in unison at the sensation. But then Chris just keeps rocking against him so slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole time. It’s tender, almost, and that’s not—he doesn’t—
“Come on,” Leon says, summoning a bit of his normal command. He hooks his left leg around Chris to pull him in further, leaving his right leg splayed to the side, safely out of the way. “Jesus Christ, are you going to fuck me back into my body, or should I go find someone who will?”
That gets Chris moving, maybe involuntarily, but Leon will take it, the hip-bruising thrusts and delicious deep pressure against his cunt and cock that have him clutching at Chris’s shoulders again.
But of course Chris has to put his two cents in even as he gives Leon what he wants, saying, “You told me to boss you around, so let me boss you around. You’ve been so good for me so far, Leon. Just keep that up.”
You’ve been so good echoes in Leon’s ears. He doesn’t make a sound, bites his lip to keep whatever it would be from spilling out of his mouth. The strangled moan he lets out moments or maybe minutes later when Chris’s cockhead briefly catches against Leon’s hole is safer.
Even now that Chris is putting some real force behind his thrusts, he still isn’t putting anything close to his full weight on Leon. Leon can’t decide if he wants that or not. He hadn’t gotten pinned to or by anything this mission, but there had been plenty of bodies already buried under rubble and debris when he’d arrived, too late as always. He’s not sure he wants the reminder. The pressure might be nice, though. Grounding.
“You feel so fucking good,” Chris rumbles above him. “Perfect.”
Leon really can’t contain himself this time. He gets a hand behind Chris’s head and tugs him down so Leon can kiss him, open-mouthed and needy. This has the side effect of making Chris finally lower more of himself down, pressing head and chest and stomach and hips flush against Leon.
If Leon were in his right mind at the moment, he’d feel bad about the scratches he’s clawing into Chris’s back with his other hand, but right now he’s caught up in the way that every single point of skin-to-skin contact feels like… like being inches away from a fire again, really, verging on too hot and too dangerous, except this is Chris and so it’s the safest thing there is.
Chris is kissing back with equal fervor and fucking his cock down against Leon like it’s his sole mission in life. He’s blanketing almost every inch of Leon. It’s good, it’s right, it’s perfect—
And despite what he said earlier, despite how good this feels, Leon’s no longer sure he even cares about cumming. That’s not the point of this anymore. Chris clearly doesn’t agree, though. He’s grinding slowly again, but this time it’s with the clear goal of keeping pretty much constant pressure against Leon’s dick. It feels so good that Leon has to actively resist curling his toes in pleasure, but it can’t be that satisfying for Chris.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” Chris says raggedly, “go ahead and cum. You’ve been so good for me. You deserve it.”
Leon buries his face in the crook of Chris’s neck. Bizarrely, his eyes are burning like he’s gotten smoke in them again. His orgasm shudders out of him in a way that’s almost painful. All he can do is pant against Chris’s throat. It takes a bit longer for Chris to cum, but soon enough Leon hears him groan and feels warmth spreading across his abdomen.
Long moments slide by. Leon can barely hear his own breath over the sound of Chris’s panting and the thunder of Chris’s pulse against Leon’s ear. Chris is still on top of him, pressing his weight down. Leon can feel him going soft. All at once, like the flick of a switch, it’s too much.
Leon says, “Can you—” and pushes at one of Chris’s shoulders. That’s enough for Chris to understand and roll off of him. “Thanks. I’m just gonna—bathroom.” He almost forgets about his ankle in his haste to get out of bed. He remembers just in time and hobbles off without incident (or any more incidents, at least), feeling Chris’s eyes on his back the whole time.
In the bathroom, Leon pees, cleans himself up, washes his hands, then stares over his own shoulder in the mirror, wishing with everything in him that he was the kind of person who could have sex without freaking out for no reason. Apparently, he isn’t. Nothing for it.
Leon grabs another hand towel and one of the instant cold packs from the first aid kit to head off some of Chris’s bitching (assuming the man sticks around to bitch) and heads back out into the bedroom. Chris has turned one of the lamps on. The light is nowhere near as bright as the bathroom’s fluorescence, but Leon finds himself wincing away from it anyway.
Chris looks good like this, haloed in the warm gold light. He’d look better if his face wasn’t creased in a frown. The last time they’d seen each other, Chris had fallen asleep on the couch. Leon had stared at his face and wondered how many of his wrinkles were caused by Leon’s antics, which was pretty self-centered given all the other stresses Chris has without Leon adding to them.
“Are you okay?” Chris asks. “If I did something—”
“No, the sex was good. I just...” Leon says, jerkily shrugging a shoulder, awkward, hating it. “Afterwards, it was too much, I guess.”
“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”
“No. It’s a big bed, it’s fine.” Leon finally crawls back into bed, sprawling out without touching Chris to prove his point. “Even if you do always wind up cuddling me in your sleep,” he adds, which amuses Chris for some reason.
“All right. I’ll be back after I brush my teeth, then.” It looks like Chris is about to say something else, but whatever it is, he bites it back before climbing out of bed and taking the lube-soaked towel with him.
In the silence, Leon sets about icing his ankle. The familiar motions of activating the ice pack, wrapping it in the towel, and applying it to the relevant body part are almost soothing. He’s just about to pull the top sheet over himself when Chris re-enters the room. A faint smile pulls at Chris’s mouth when he spots the ice pack, so maybe Leon’s managed to salvage this after all despite several spectacular fuckups.
Chris switches the lamp off and slides under the sheets beside Leon, making sure to leave space between them. Leon’s chest aches a little. He draws in a deep breath. Slowly, he stretches his arm out to the side until he finds Chris’s hand with his own.
Leon hooks his pinky finger around Chris’s, a physical reassurance of sorts. He knows that Chris likes that sort of thing, even if Leon can’t always bring himself to provide it. But this isn’t bad. Chris is warm, and it’s… nice, to have the physical reminder that he’s right there next to Leon.
“…Sorry in advance if I wake you up because of a nightmare.” Showing that much vulnerability burns Leon’s throat a little, but sometimes it’s easier to apologize in advance than it is after the fact.
“I don’t mind,” Chris says quietly, squeezing Leon’s pinky for just a moment.
And it’s strange, but—Leon believes him.