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Chris’s strong lungs expanded in his chest wall as the nicotine smoke from his lit cigarette filled his pulmonary tissue. The sticky, humid air of the late summer night clung to him like an ill-fitting suit coat. Even the occasional brief breeze through the trees wasn’t nearly enough to satiate the heat radiating from his skin. Thick, calloused fingers thumped against the white-painted metal table. His naked foot tapped aggressively on the finished wood of the house's deck. Ash wilted from the edge of the cigarette and dissolved in the wind.
He was miles away from any threat, any horror. Safe in his own personal piece of paradise that he carved for himself through blood, sweat, and tears.
And yet, even here, he couldn’t get his mind to turn off.
Closing his eyes only created a front row seat to the horrors he set up this trip to escape from. The stench of death still permeated his nostrils. His throat. His brain. Piers, melting to nothing before his eyes. The fear in his eyes of what he knew was coming next as Chris blasted away. Ethan’s mold-laden sobs ringing through his ears, over and over like a church bell. The choking smoke of the explosion Chris could only bear witness to from his eagle eye in the helicopter.
The warmth of Rose’s healthy, small body in his arms.
Chris’s arms.
Not her father’s, where she belonged.
And that did not even begin to cover the abhorrent shit show that was the B.S.A.A.’s corruption case that awaited him upon his shameful return.
A shuttered breath escaped his lungs alongside the cigarette smoke he hardly tasted anymore. Eyes darted from one end of the porch to the other. The house built was miles within dense, thick woods. A mile and a half long driveway accessible by only a specific code shielded any unwanted intruders from entering- or better yet, stumbling upon it from the main road at the bottom of the hill. The way things were now, it was as close to safety as he could manage for himself, but it was of little comfort to him.
He couldn’t hide away from the horror within himself.
The swirl of memories rushing around from within him was enough to distract him from the clinking of the handle to the front door disengaging and the quiet creaking of the door opening. He could hardly hear the soft pitter-patter of feet against the porchwood, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood at the sudden presence behind him. His muscles tightened, and his breath hitched. It was only when a pair of lean, toned arms wrapped themselves around his neck and naked, exposed chest from behind his chair that his breathing started returning to normal. Arms with hands that ran up his chest, reaching up to pluck the cigarette right out of his loose mouth.
“Thought you said you quit these,” the voice of the toned arms remarked in a thick, sleepy voice.
Chris chuffed humorlessly as the cigarette was promptly snuffed out on the metal table and tossed to the side. He knew that voice anywhere- and the snarky comment that usually came with it. “You were supposed to be asleep.”
“So were you, big guy,” Leon replied. Hands continued to roam aimlessly, gently across his chest.
Chris relaxed into the contact. Despite the rising temperature of his skin, the contact from the other’s cooled touch, by contrast, started to do wonders. His shoulders dropped, his chest rose and fell steadily, and he leaned his back further against the chair- the only barrier left between him and the one behind him. He thought about standing up, breaking that barrier, and pulling the other to his chest, but he wasn’t ready yet. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to hold on just yet.
The other, ever the brazen one, broke said barrier: Leon leaned forward, bending his spine down, and rested his cleft chin on Chris’s thick shoulder. His tawny brown hair, long and hanging in his face, tickled against Chris’s stubble, causing the bigger man to flinch involuntarily. Scuffed and split lips pressed cautiously against Chris’s temple. His pulse beat beneath his mouth. They lingered a while, a few seconds longer than usual, as nostrils greedily inhaled his scent.
Even those damn cigarettes couldn’t change how good Chris smelled to him.
“What do you need, Lee?” Chris rumbled. There was no aggression present in his voice, and Leon knew that. That rumble did, however, tell him everything he needed to without having to ask a single question.
Leon took a moment to reply, instead taking another moment to plant another kiss- this time much longer, along the helix of Chris’s ear. He relished in the shudder that shot up and down Chris’s spine.
“I need this strong, handsome, sexy idiot back inside where he belongs,” He whispered, his voice low in the back of his throat.
Chris allowed another shuddering breath to escape his throat. No one on the planet knew him better than the man clinging to him from behind. To everyone else in the organization, Chris was a wall- an immovable stone pillar of strength whose booming voice shook even the most seasoned veterans to their very core. But here, in the arms of Leon Scott Kennedy, he was a shaking, blubbering mess. A wilted flower in need of water, a pious man on his knees begging for the mercy of god. No matter what state he was in, Leon effortlessly knew just what he needed and who he needed him to be. No stupid questions, no needless explaining.
Just Chris and Leon against it all.
“You’re right about the idiot part,” was the only reply Chris could come up with.
Leon didn’t grace that instance of self-deprecation with a response. He did, however, lean forward over the chair further to plant his lips further on Chris’s cheek, along the barbered line between his skin and the start of his beard. One way or another, he was determined to shut Chris’s brain off for him and any negative thoughts that came with it.
Sensing the mission Leon set out for himself, Chris decided to finally grant mercy to his partner’s aging back by turning his head towards him, giving him the perfect leverage to capture his lips on his. Leon hummed low in his throat upon contact, melting into the kiss and immediately opening his mouth to allow Chris unencumbered access. It worked; Chris’s tongue slid easily into Leon’s mouth, tasting and exploring every corner he could reach. Leon’s low hum and moan did wonders to flood Chris’s already overloaded brain with endorphins, ones that swelled the front of his shorts within moments.
The kiss lasted what felt like an eternity before Chris pulled back, but only for a moment. A string of saliva hung from their open mouths, still connecting them, joining them together. Leon’s tongue stretched out, catching it in his mouth. The image burned itself into Chris’s mind.
A much better replacement for what he usually saw when he shut his eyes.
The pair lightly panted against one another, daring the other to speak first.
It didn’t take long for someone to decide.
“Wanna talk about it?” Leon asked, though he already knew the answer.
Chris shook his head immediately.
“Then come on. Let me give you something else to think about.”
With that, the solace Leon created with his arms around Chris vanished as he shot back up, standing back and turning to walk towards the open front door. Only then did Chris turn himself around in his chair, aching knees trembling as he struggled to stand. Every moment his legs made were met with the crackling of his stiff, swollen joints. Once his feet were flat on the ground, he turned fully to cast his eyes over at the man in the doorway.
Chris must have been deeper into a daze than he originally thought, because when he turned, it fully dawned on him just how…exposed Leon was. And by exposed, he meant naked as the day he was born. Leon’s skin glowed from the dim yellow of the porch light. Chris's eyes traced up each and every curve of smooth, toned muscle along his arms, torso, and down his trim, athletic legs. Deep white scars peppered along Leon’s body, whose placements Chris knew better than he knew his own- each one he could trace the shape of perfectly with his tongue. And at the center, a fat, swollen cock, hardening from the slightest instance of intimacy. Bouncing in the night air. Beckoning for Chris to come closer. To feel it with his big, strong hands.
Chris need not fall to his knees in prayer- for they were already answered.
For just a night, he asked to forget. Forget everything that wasn’t right in front of him. Forget all the horrors he committed, all the mistakes he ever made, for just a single night of unadulterated bliss.
And as Leon’s grin spread across his lips, he leaned back in the doorway. Letting Chris take a good, long look at him. Drinking him all in like he was dying of thirst.
And of course, that even fatter mouth of his couldn’t resist one more little quip:
“What are you waiting for? Come and get me, Redfield,”
With just a few short words, the tsunami of horror churning like a maelstrom within Chris’s skull burst, replacing with white hot light that fueled his movements. In that moment, there was no more war. There was no more bioterrorism. There was no more death. Now, he moved swiftly away from the chair and stormed over to Leon, grabbing hold of the smaller man by the back of his hair and smashing his lips to his. His hulking frame pushed both of them back within the confines of the house, and the front door was hastily slammed shut behind them.
Chris’s paradise was temporary.
Everything was.
But just for one night, he was going to savor every single second of it.