Chapter Text
On most nights, the precinct reeked faintly of stale coffee, gun oil, and the dull fatigue that usually clung to officers long past the end of their shifts. Tonight, however, someone had made a minimal effort to dress the place up in a way that only half succeeded. A folding table had been pushed against the far wall beneath the notice boards, laden with store-bought cupcakes, a few boxes of pizza already missing several slices, and a small cluster of beer bottles, all courtesy of ‘Provisions Specialist Neil’, as Marvin had called him.
The whole thing bore the unmistakable signature of him, well-intentioned, understated, and clearly assembled with the reluctant cooperation of whoever happened to still be on duty – not including the chief, of course, they didn’t want to put the new recruit in his bad books already.
Your father, Barry Burton, had been the loudest presence ever since the moment he walked in. His laugh carried easily across the room, booming over the low hum of conversation as he clapped a hand on someone’s shoulder, probably the poor rookie currently being welcomed into the department with more enthusiasm than he seemed equipped to handle.
You’d already met him once, briefly.
Too briefly, really.
The introduction had happened less than ten minutes after he arrived, your father’s large hand settling heavily on the rookie’s back as he steered him toward you with the sort of pride normally reserved for showing off a particularly impressive piece of equipment.
“This is my daughter,” Barry had said, gesturing toward you like he’d just unveiled something noteworthy. “Don’t let her fool you, she’s got a sharper eye than half the guys here.”
The rookie had blinked at you like a deer caught in the beam of a flashlight.
Leon looked younger up close than you expected. His uniform was still stiff with newness, the creases sharp, the badge polished to a shine that suggested he’d spent longer preparing it than most officers would bother with. Blond hair fell across his forehead in an unruly sweep he clearly hadn’t figured out how to tame yet, and when he offered you his hand, there’d been an earnestness to the gesture that bordered on nervousness.
“Nice to meet you,” he’d said, grip firm but uncertain, as though he’d rehearsed the handshake beforehand.
Before you could answer with anything more than a polite greeting, Marvin had appeared at Leon’s elbow like a man rescuing someone from drowning.
“Come on, rookie,” he’d said, steering him away with the gentle authority of someone who’d seen this situation play out a hundred times before. “Couple people here you should meet.”
And just like that, the new arrival had been swept away into the current of introductions.
You hadn’t seen him properly since.
Now, nearly an hour later, the small celebration had settled into the sort of easy lull that inevitably followed the initial round of greetings. Conversations had broken off into smaller clusters, the music from someone’s old radio humming quietly in the background.
You leaned against the edge of a desk with a plastic cup in your hand, swirling the amber liquid lazily while listening to Jill recount a story about a weapons qualification gone spectacularly wrong.
“..and he swore the recoil knocked him off balance,” Jill was saying, her tone dry with amusement. “Except the target was ten feet away. You don’t lose your footing firing at ten feet unless you’re trying.”
You snorted softly into your drink. “Please tell me this wasn’t someone currently carrying a badge.”
Jill lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Let’s just say he’s not on S.T.A.R.S.”
You took another slow sip, letting your gaze drift idly across the room as the conversation continued. Most of the officers were relaxed now, leaning against desks or perched on chairs with half-finished beers in their hands.
Leon stood near the far end of the hall, partially turned away from the rest of the group as someone, likely one of the detectives, spoke enthusiastically beside him. A bottle of beer rested loosely in his hand, the label peeling slightly where condensation had soaked through.
But he wasn’t listening, instead, he was looking at you.
The moment your eyes met, he flushed a light pink.
It was subtle at first, a faint bloom of color rising along his cheekbones, but it spread quickly enough that you caught the entire transformation before he could hide it. His gaze darted away so abruptly you might’ve missed it entirely if you hadn’t already been watching.
You felt the corner of your mouth twitch.
“Well,” Jill said suddenly beside you, following your line of sight with quiet interest. “That’s new.”
You took another sip of your drink, feigning innocence. “What is?”
“The rookie,” she replied calmly. “He’s been looking over here for the last five minutes.”
You nearly choked on the swallow you hadn’t quite finished.
“That’s ridiculous,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help glancing back across the room again.
As if sensing the movement, Leon’s attention flickered toward you once more, then once again, he looked away almost instantly.
Jill hummed thoughtfully.
“Oh, that’s adorable.”
You lowered your cup, shooting her a skeptical look. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” she asked mildly.
Across the way, Leon shifted his weight like someone suddenly aware of standing in the wrong place. He lifted the beer bottle to his mouth, took a longer drink than necessary, and then said something to the officer beside him that you couldn’t quite hear.
Whatever it was prompted a brief nod in response, and a moment later, he was stepping away from the conversation.
He didn’t head toward the exit, or the snack table, or even the rest of the crowd. Instead, he angled quietly toward the row of offices lining the hallway, moving with the careful subtlety of someone hoping not to attract attention.
You watched him disappear through the doorway of one of the side offices, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
Jill tilted her head slightly.
“Well,” she said, her tone thoughtful now. “Looks like the rookie just needed some air.”
Your gaze lingered on the closed office door a moment longer than necessary.
“Maybe,” you said.
“You should go check on him.”
You gave her a flat look over the rim of your cup. “Why would I do that?”
“Because,” Jill replied, gesturing vaguely toward the hallway with two fingers, “he looked like he was about five seconds away from combusting.”
“That’s a little dramatic.”
“Is it?” she asked mildly.
Before you could respond, a familiar voice joined the conversation from somewhere to your left.
“Who’s combusting?”
You glanced over to find your father approaching with another officer, a beer bottle hanging loosely from his hand. Barry followed Jill’s line of sight toward the offices, his expression shifting with quick understanding.
“The rookie?” he guessed.
Jill nodded once.
Barry huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, that tracks.”
You frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Barry said patiently, “that kid’s been staring at you all night.”
Heat crept up the back of your neck despite your best efforts to remain unaffected.
“He has not.”
“Has too,” Barry replied immediately, the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth making it clear he was enjoying this far more than necessary. “Thought Marvin was gonna have to introduce you two again just to get him to stop pretending he wasn’t looking.”
You shook your head, trying to dismiss the entire idea. “You’re both exaggerating.”
Jill tilted her head thoughtfully.
“Go see for yourself.”
Your brows drew together. “I’m not chasing the new guy down the hallway because he had one beer too many.”
“Who said anything about chasing?” Jill said calmly. “You’re just checking on him.”
Barry nodded along with exaggerated seriousness. “Exactly. Making sure the rookie didn’t get lost.”
You stared at the two of them for a long moment, waiting for the punchline.
Instead, Jill lifted her glass toward you in a small, encouraging gesture.
Across the room, someone else had apparently picked up on the conversation because a low whistle sounded from near the snack table.
“Oh, come on,” you muttered under your breath.
Barry chuckled, clearly delighted now that other people had started paying attention.
“Go on,” he said, nudging your shoulder lightly. “Kid probably thinks he embarrassed himself.”
You exhaled slowly through your nose, already regretting how much attention the moment had gathered.
“I’m not doing this because you’re all acting like middle schoolers,” you said firmly, setting your cup down on the nearest desk. “I’m checking on him because someone should make sure he didn’t pass out in Marvin’s office.”
The faint cheers that followed your declaration did absolutely nothing to help your dignity, and you waved them off without turning around.
“Shut up,” you called over your shoulder, already heading toward the hallway.
The noise faded gradually as you stepped away from the gathering, the low hum of conversation replaced by the quieter stillness of the offices lining the corridor. Fluorescent lights hummed softly overhead, casting long shadows across the polished floor.
Most of the doors were open, their interiors dark and empty.
One, however, was not.
You pushed it open gently, and the sight inside made you pause for half a second.
Leon stood on the far side of the room, leaning forward with both hands braced against the edge of his desk. The large banner someone had taped across the front, reading “Welcome Leon” in brightly coloured bold lettering, hung slightly crooked now, one corner peeling away from the surface where the adhesive had begun to give up.
His jacket had been draped over the back of his chair, and the half-finished bottle of beer rested near his hand. From behind, he looked like someone trying very hard to collect himself.
You cleared your throat lightly. “Planning your escape route already?”
Leon startled so violently the reaction might have been comical if it hadn’t looked so genuine. He straightened immediately, turning toward the door with wide eyes before realizing who had spoken.
“Oh - ”
The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, though the faint flush returned almost instantly.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair in a way that only made it fall more messily across his forehead. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That was the idea,” you replied, stepping further into the office and letting the door swing shut behind you. “You disappeared so fast I thought maybe someone finally scared you off.”
Leon huffed a quiet laugh, though it carried a hint of lingering embarrassment.
“No, nothing like that.”
Your gaze drifted briefly around the room before settling on him again. Up close, the nervous energy he carried was even more noticeable now. His fingers tapped lightly against the desk beside the beer bottle, like he hadn’t yet figured out what to do with his hands.
You leaned casually against the opposite desk.
“So,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “First department party and you’re already hiding in an office.”
Leon glanced toward the door as if half expecting someone else to appear.
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Okay,” he admitted. “Maybe a little.”
You folded your arms loosely.
“Too many detectives telling embarrassing stories about their first week?”
“That,” he said, “and your dad.”
You laughed quietly.
“Fair.”
Leon rubbed the back of his neck, looking both amused and slightly overwhelmed at the same time.
“He’s.. a lot.”
“That’s a polite way of putting it.”
Leon shifted his weight slightly, picking up the beer bottle before setting it down again without taking another drink. His gaze flicked briefly toward you, then away, then back again.
Cute.
“You, uh..” he began, hesitating slightly before finishing the thought. “You didn’t have to come check on me, you know.”
You shrugged lightly.
“Maybe I wanted to see if the rookie really was hiding.”
Leon’s ears turned faintly red again.
“Well,” he said, gesturing awkwardly toward the banner stretched across his desk, “I guess the evidence isn’t exactly in my favor.”
You glanced at the crooked sign and smirked.
“Hard to miss.”
He followed your gaze, letting out a quiet breath through his nose.
“Marvin insisted.”
“That sounds like him.”
For a moment neither of you spoke, then you tilted your head slightly, studying him quietly.
“You know,” you said thoughtfully, “I could’ve sworn you were staring at me earlier.”
Leon froze so completely that for a moment it looked as though someone had pressed pause on him mid-breath.
The color returned to his face almost instantly, climbing from the collar of his uniform to the tips of his ears with impressive speed. His eyes widened, flicking toward the door and then back to you again, as though he were desperately searching for some kind of dignified escape from the conversation.
“I - what?” he said, far too quickly. “No, I wasn’t - I mean, I wasn’t staring.”
You raised an eyebrow, and he faltered immediately.
“I mean,” he tried again, rubbing the back of his neck with clear discomfort, “not like that. I wasn’t - ”
His words tripped over themselves so badly that the apology seemed to arrive before the explanation had even finished forming.
“Sorry,” he added quickly. “If it looked like that.”
The earnestness in his expression did absolutely nothing to help his case.
You lasted maybe three seconds before the laughter escaped you.
Not loud or mocking, but warm enough that the tension drained from the room almost immediately. Leon blinked at you in confusion, still flushed and very clearly unsure whether he had somehow made the situation worse.
You lifted a hand in surrender as you stepped a little closer.
“Relax,” you said, the smile lingering easily now. “I’m messing with you.”
For a moment he didn’t move at all, staring at you before he exhaled heavily and dropped his face straight into his hands.
“Oh my god.”
The groan that followed was muffled against his palms, thick with embarrassment.
You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped you again as you closed the remaining distance between you. Leaning casually against the edge of the desk beside him, you nudged the beer bottle slightly out of the way so you had room to rest your elbow.
“You should’ve seen your face,” you added lightly.
Leon dragged his hands down his face slowly, like someone trying to reset himself back into a functioning human being.
“I cannot believe I fell for that.”
“You’re the one who looked guilty.”
“I didn’t look guilty,” he muttered.
You tilted your head slightly.
“You absolutely did.”
Leon huffed a breath through his nose, though the corner of his mouth twitched faintly like he was trying, and failing, not to smile.
“Great,” he said. “First party with the department and I’m already the guy everyone thinks can’t lie.”
“Everyone doesn’t think that,” you replied calmly.
He glanced at you sideways.
“You do.”
You smiled.
“Well.. yeah.”
Leon shook his head slightly, though the embarrassment had softened into something else. The tension in his shoulders eased as he leaned back against the desk beside you, mirroring your posture without seeming to realize it.
Up close, you noticed the faint flush still lingering across his cheeks, the color made more noticeable beneath the bright overhead lights. Whether it was the beer or the earlier embarrassment, or some combination of both, it gave him a warmth that softened the sharper edges of his features.
He blinked slowly, blue eyes clear despite the alcohol.
There was something almost disarming about the way he looked at you, and you found yourself studying him longer than you meant to.
The way his hair fell across his forehead, slightly mussed now where he’d run his hand through it earlier. The faint crease between his brows when he concentrated on something. Even the nervous habit he seemed to have of tapping his fingers lightly against the desk.
Cute wasn’t the word most people would’ve used for a police officer, but the thought crossed your mind anyway.
You cleared your throat softly, shifting your weight against the desk.
“So,” you said, glancing toward him. “Why’d you want to be a cop?”
Leon seemed slightly surprised by the question.
“Uh..”
He glanced down briefly, considering it.
“I guess..” he started slowly, “to.. uphold the law, and protect people?”
Your brow lifted slightly.
“That’s it?”
He huffed a small laugh.
“Sounds kind of dumb when I say it like that, huh?”
“Not dumb,” you said. “Just vague.”
Leon rubbed the back of his neck again, clearly thinking through how to explain it.
“My dad used to talk about it a lot,” he said after a moment. “Not about being a cop specifically, just helping people, doing something that actually matters.”
His voice had quieted slightly, the earlier embarrassment replaced with something more thoughtful.
“He.. died, well, they all did, my family, I mean - ” He exhaled a shaky breath, and you considered butting in to tell him that he didn’t have to continue. “I only survived because of an officer, I wanted to honour them.”
“And you figured this was the best way to do that,” you murmured.
“Something like that,” he replied, giving a small shrug, glancing down at the badge pinned neatly to his uniform. “Plus, Raccoon City was hiring.”
You laughed quietly, and he smiled faintly at that.
“And you?” he asked, turning his attention back to you. “Your dad says you’ve been around the department a while.”
“Long enough.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It probably is.”
He watched you with that same open curiosity again, head tilted slightly as though he were still piecing together who you were.
You realized after a moment that you hadn’t stopped looking at him.
Even now, as he spoke, your gaze kept drifting back to his face. The faint pink still lingering along his cheekbones, the warmth in his eyes when he smiled, the easy sincerity in the way he talked that felt almost out of place in a police station.
Even half a beer into the evening, he looked like someone who hadn’t quite learned how to hide his thoughts yet.
“Do I have something on my face?”
The question snapped you out of it. You blinked once before shaking your head.
“No.”
He studied you suspiciously for a moment.
“..You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The messing with me thing.”
You smiled innocently.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Leon groaned softly, tipping his head back toward the ceiling like he was already regretting every decision that had led to this conversation. His groan lingered in the quiet office for a moment, muffled slightly as he dragged a hand down his face again like someone trying to physically wipe away the embarrassment.
When his hand dropped, you were still smiling at him.
That probably didn’t help.
“You’re enjoying this,” he said, narrowing his eyes just slightly.
“A little,” you admitted.
Leon let out a slow breath through his nose, the faintest hint of a smile threatening to betray him before he managed to compose himself again.
“You know,” he said carefully, “I feel like I’m being hazed.”
“Hazed?” you repeated, amused.
“Yeah,” he said, gesturing loosely between the two of you. “First day at the department and someone’s already decided to mess with the rookie.”
You tilted your head.
“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I mess with everyone.”
“That’s.. somehow worse.”
You laughed quietly at that, watching the way his expression shifted, still embarrassed, still a little uncertain, but no longer quite as tense as when you’d first stepped into the room.
There was a warmth in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair kept falling forward no matter how many times he pushed it back; nor the way his ears had turned pink again sometime during the conversation without him realizing.
Fuck, he really was easy to fluster.
The thought slipped out before you could stop it.
“You know,” you said thoughtfully, studying him in a way that made his shoulders straighten slightly, “you’re kind of cute.”
If his face had been flushed before, it was nothing compared to the colour that spread across it now. It climbed straight up his neck and settled across his cheeks so vividly you were fairly certain it could’ve put a tomato to shame.
“Oh, I - what?” he managed.
You bit back another laugh.
Leon opened his mouth again like he intended to say something coherent this time, but whatever response he’d planned clearly evaporated somewhere along the way.
“I mean, you can’t just - ” he tried, gesturing helplessly with one hand.
You were laughing now, softer but completely unrestrained, the sound filling the small office as Leon’s composure unravelled in real time.
“I’m serious,” you said once you managed to regain some control over yourself. “You should see your face right now.”
“That’s not - ” Leon stopped, exhaling sharply. “That’s not fair.”
“What isn’t?”
“You saying things like that out of nowhere.”
You pushed off the desk then, turning slightly so you were facing him fully instead of leaning beside him. His posture stiffened slightly, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself now that you were standing directly in front of him.
“You’re blushing again,” you observed.
“I’m not,” he said automatically.
You lifted an eyebrow.
Leon hesitated. “Okay, maybe a little.”
You took another small step closer without really thinking about it, and his gaze flickered away hesitantly. For a second he looked like he’d forgotten something important, possibly how breathing worked.
“You okay?” you asked lightly.
“Yeah,” he said quickly.
You tilted your head slightly.
“Leon.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re doing the thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The panicking thing.”
“I’m not panicking.”
You smiled faintly.
“Sure.”
Without really thinking about it, you reached out, your hand coming up to rest lightly against the center of his chest, the gesture meant to steady the moment more than anything else.
Under your palm, you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and the noticeably quicker rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the fabric of his uniform.
His eyes flicked down to where your hand rested, then back up to your face again, before swallowing, like he was trying to force his brain back into working order.
“I..” he started, then stopped.
Whatever thought had been forming clearly derailed the moment he looked at you again, his cheeks still flushed a light pink. You weren’t even doing anything, just standing there, but somehow, that seemed to make things worse for him.
“Now you’re doing that on purpose,” he said quietly.
“Doing what?”
“Standing that close.”
You tilted your head again, feigning innocence.
“I walked over here.”
“That counts.”
You smiled slightly, your hand still resting against his chest, the fabric of his uniform warm beneath your fingers, accompanied by the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Almost absentmindedly, your hand trailed a few inches higher before settling again.
You weren’t entirely sure who moved first, it might’ve been you leaning in slightly, or him shifting forward just enough to close the space that remained between you. Either way, the first brush of his lips against yours was hesitant, soft and uncertain, like neither of you had quite decided that this was actually happening yet.
Leon’s timing was slightly off, his hand tightening instinctively against your hip as though he’d realized halfway through that he didn’t actually know what he was doing. He made a soft noise against your lips, something caught between a breath and a whimper that made you pull back just enough to look at him.
The colour rushed back to his face so quickly it almost looked painful, mentally praying that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.
“..Was that a whimper?” you asked lightly.
“No,” he said quickly.
Your eyebrow lifted.
“It absolutely was.”
“It wasn’t,” he insisted, though the argument lacked any real confidence.
You tilted your head slightly, still close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath.
“Wow,” you murmured, amused. “The rookie’s sensitive.”
Leon’s face somehow turned an even deeper shade of red.
“I am not - ”
The protest died halfway through as he realized continuing the sentence would only make things worse.
You laughed quietly again, the sound warm rather than mocking.
“Relax,” you said softly.
Leon groaned under his breath, dropping his forehead briefly against yours with a soft bonk as if he was trying to hide from the situation he’d walked himself into.
“..I can’t believe I did that.”
“You did,” you said helpfully.
“That’s not helping.”
You smiled faintly.
“Maybe a little.”
Leon let out a slow breath, clearly trying to regain some control over himself again. Screw you and your pretty face, and the way you used his stupid remarks against himself.
You huffed a laugh against his mouth, the sound low and warm, barely more than breath. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Before he could muster another flustered protest, you tilted your head and kissed him again.
It was still messy, lips catching at odd angles, a faint clack of teeth before you both adjusted, but the awkwardness only seemed to feed the heat building between you. He made another small, involuntary sound the moment your tongue brushed his: a soft, needy hum that vibrated against your mouth. He tried to swallow it back, failed spectacularly, and the embarrassment only made the next noise come out higher, more desperate.
He was eager in a way that felt almost frantic. Hands unsure but hungry, sliding from your hip to the small of your back, then lower again like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch most. You felt the tremor in his fingers when they finally settled at the tops of your thighs.
He turned you slowly, the motion clumsy but determined. One hand braced at your waist while the other guided your hip; the next thing you knew the edge of the desk pressed against the backs of your legs. Leon lifted you with surprising ease, adrenaline and nervous strength making up for any lack of finesse, and set you on the surface so your thighs parted around his hips.
Papers crinkled beneath you, and the crooked banner above your heads shifted another inch downward.
He stepped in immediately, crowding the space between your legs until the heat of him pressed flush against you. His hands found your thighs again, palms sliding up the outside in a slow, testing squeeze. Fingers dug in just enough to dimple the soft flesh, then loosened like he was afraid he’d crossed a line, only to tighten again a heartbeat later when you arched subtly into the touch.
“God,” he breathed against your lips, voice wrecked already. “I - sorry, I just - ”
You cut him off with another kiss, swallowing the rest of the apology. He groaned into it, the sound muffled and raw, hips jerking forward once before he caught himself.
When you pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead dropped to yours. He was panting softly, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones.
“You keep making those noises,” you murmured, lips brushing his as you spoke, “and I’m gonna start thinking you like being embarrassed.”
Leon let out a shaky exhale that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t cracked in the middle. “I don’t - I mean, maybe - fuck.”
You smiled against his mouth. One of your hands slid up to thread through the soft blond strands at his nape, tugging just enough to tilt his head so you could kiss along the edge of his jaw. He shuddered hard, fingers flexing on your thighs.
“You’re shaking,” you observed quietly, teasing but gentle.
“Yeah,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Kinda hard not to when you’re.. doing that.”
“Doing what?” You dragged your teeth very lightly over the sensitive skin beneath his ear.
“That,” he managed, hips rocking forward again in a helpless little grind. Another soft, broken sound slipped out before he could stop it.
You laughed under your breath and pulled him closer by the collar of his uniform, until his chest pressed to yours and there was barely any space left between you.
Leon nuzzled against your lips then, small, needy brushes, chasing your mouth every time you eased back just to tease. His nose bumped yours, breath hot and uneven.
“Please,” he murmured, so quiet you almost missed it over the blood rushing in your ears. His voice had gone low and rough, cracked at the edges with want. “Can I.. I want to taste you, please.”
Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t c -
“Yeah,” you breathed, praying he didn’t notice the tremble in your voice. “Go ahead, rookie, eat me out.”
“Fuck,” he whispered, voice trembling on the edge of a laugh that wasn’t quite there. “I swear I could come just from kissing you. Like, right now. In my pants. That’s how bad it is.”
You could see it in the way his hips twitched forward once before he caught himself and froze, muscles locking like he was physically fighting the urge to press himself against you and grind until he came.
You huffed a soft laugh against his mouth, the sound catching when you felt how hard he was already, the thick line of him straining against the front of his uniform pants where it nudged insistently between your thighs.
“Jesus, rookie,” you murmured, lips brushing his as you spoke. “You’re really not holding back from embarrassing yourself, huh?”
Leon swallowed so hard you heard it, and you laughed again, quieter this time, the sound making him shudder.
He exhaled shakily, then shifted backward just enough to give himself room. His hands found the waistband of your bottoms, clumsy, fingers fumbling at the button and zipper like he’d forgotten how they worked. You lifted your hips without being asked, letting him tug the fabric down your thighs in one uneven pull. The material caught briefly at your knees before he dragged it the rest of the way off, leaving your panties and nothing else below the waist.
Leon dropped to his knees between your legs without hesitation.
The sight of him there, still in his crisp uniform, badge catching the overhead light, blond hair falling messily into his eyes as he looked up at you, made your stomach twist. His gaze was wide, pupils blown so dark the blue was almost gone.
He leaned in slowly, almost shyly, and pressed his nose against the damp cotton of your panties first. A quiet, shaky exhale ghosted over the fabric, and you felt yourself clench at the contact.
“Leon - ”
He didn’t answer with words. Instead he hooked two fingers into the side of your underwear and tugged the material aside, exposing you to the cool air of the office and the heat of his gaze.
He stared for a long second, long enough that you felt the flush crawl up your own chest, then leaned forward and dragged the flat of his tongue over you in one tentative, experimental lick.
You threaded your fingers into his hair, guiding him closer without pulling, and he groaned, low, muffled against your skin, the vibration making your thighs tense around his head.
He shifted forward, shoulders pressing against the insides of your thighs to spread you wider, and licked again. The flat of his tongue dragged from your entrance up to your clit, then back down, gathering the slick that had already pooled there. Another quiet groan rumbled out of him, and you felt it more than heard it.
He moved your panties completely out of the way now, pushing them to the side and holding them there with one hand while the other slid up to grip the back of your thigh, fingers digging in just enough to keep you open for him.
His motions were still clumsy, but earnest in a way that made your spine arch off the desk. He lapped at you like he was trying to memorize every inch, tongue dipping inside once, twice, before sliding back up to circle your clit with broad, uncertain strokes.
You couldn’t help the soft moan that slipped out when he finally closed his lips around the sensitive bud and sucked, tentative at first, then harder when your hips jerked toward his mouth.
The sound he made into your cunt was wrecked; a high, needy whine that vibrated straight through you. He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny, breath hot against your soaked skin.
“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled, voice thick and slurred like he was drunk on it. “I can’t, please don’t stop me.”
You laughed breathlessly, fingers tightening in his hair.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
He groaned again, deeper this time, and leaned back in, sucking your clit with more confidence now, tongue flicking against the underside in quick, messy little passes that had your thighs trembling around his ears.
Every time you made a sound, he answered with a muffled whine of his own, hips shifting restlessly like he was grinding against nothing, chasing friction he wouldn’t let himself have.
He buried his face deeper, nose pressed flush against your cunt, mouth open and greedy like he’d been starving for this exact taste his entire life. His tongue plunged inside you in messy, eager thrusts, curling and dragging along your walls before pulling out to lap broad stripes up the length of your slit. Every few passes he shifted higher, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking with a rhythm that made your hips jerk off the desk.
Wet, obscene sounds filled the small office, slick slides of tongue, muffled groans vibrating straight into your cunt, the occasional desperate whimper when your thighs twitched around his ears. His hands gripped the backs of your thighs harder, spreading you wider, holding you open so he could get deeper, like he couldn’t bear even a second of distance.
After a minute his jaw must have started to ache, because he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, lips and chin shining, cheeks flushed dark, and slid two fingers into you instead.
They sank in easily, coated by how soaked you already were. He curled them immediately, searching, pressing up against that spot that made your breath punch out of you in a sharp, involuntary sound. Found it on the second try. His eyes flicked up to yours through thick lashes, heavy-lidded and glassy, watching your face like it was the only thing that mattered.
He looked wrecked. Hair mussed from your fingers, mouth swollen and wet, a thin string of your slick still connecting his lower lip to your cunt when he pulled back to breathe. Another soft, broken whine slipped out of him as he pumped his fingers, slow at first, then faster, matching the needy little rolls of your hips.
Your thighs clamped down around his head instinctively, muffling the sounds he was making, trapping him there. You slapped a hand over your own mouth, biting down on your palm to stifle the moan that wanted to tear out of you. Somewhere down the hall, voices still drifted faintly, laughter, and the distant clink of bottles.
Leon didn’t seem to care, or maybe he did, and that was why he pressed his tongue flat against your clit again while his fingers kept working inside you. His free hand slid up to grip your hip, thumb digging into the soft flesh there as he ground his own hips uselessly against nothing, chasing friction he couldn’t have.
You looked down at him, and the sight alone nearly made you come; wide blue eyes locked on yours, lashes fluttering every time you clenched around his fingers.
Your hand clenched his hair, fingers twisting tight in the soft blond strands, tugging hard, and his muffled whimper turned into a full-body shudder. He pressed forward so roughly his nose bumped your clit, tongue flicking frantically as you ground down against his mouth.
Your thighs locked around his head, back arching off the desk, a choked moan slipping past your fingers despite your best efforts. You came hard around his fingers, slick coating his hand and chin, dripping down the sides of his jaw.
“Good boy,” you gasped out, the words tumbling free before you could think better of them. “Just like that, you’re doing so good.”
He made a soft, helpless sound against you, high and needy, and his hips jerked forward again, like the praise alone had nearly pushed him over the edge. His fingers faltered for a second, then kept moving, slower now, working you through the aftershocks with careful, trembling strokes while his tongue lapped gently at your oversensitive clit.
You tugged weakly at his hair again, pushing his head away.
Leon went easily this time, though he didn’t go far.
He slumped forward, cheek pressed to the inside of your thigh, panting hard against your skin. His face was a mess, lips swollen, chin and cheeks glistening, strands of hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He dragged his tongue slowly across his lower lip, eyes half-closed like he was savouring the taste of you.
“Fuck,” he breathed, voice hoarse and wrecked. “You.. you okay?”
You laughed, shaky, and carded your fingers gently through his hair instead of answering right away. He leaned into the touch like a cat, nuzzling against your thigh, still catching his breath.
Then, you nodded slowly, fingers sliding back into his hair to scratch gently at his scalp. The motion drew a low, pleased groan from deep in his chest, eyes fluttering half-closed.
He huffed a shaky breath against your thigh, then pushed himself up on unsteady legs. One hand braced on the desk beside your hip while the other wiped roughly across his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform, smearing the shine there without much care. His eyes found yours again, and he leaned in without another word.
You met him halfway, lips sliding together too fast, too hungry, tasting of you on his tongue. He groaned into your mouth the moment you opened for him, hands finding your sides and clinging like he was afraid you might vanish if he let go.
You welcomed it eagerly, one hand trailing down the front of his uniform, over the stiff fabric, the cool metal of his badge, until your palm settled lower, cupping the hard length of him through his pants.
Leon jerked forward with a sharp, breathy sound, hips canting into your touch before he could stop himself. The noise he made against your lips was choked, half moan, half plea.
“Fuck,” he whispered between kisses, voice cracking. “Please, please - ”
You didn’t make him wait long, how could you?
Your fingers found the zipper of his uniform pants, tugging it down with a slow, deliberate rasp that seemed obscenely loud in the quiet office. You slipped your hand inside, past the waistband of his boxers, and wrapped around him.
He was heavy in your palm, thick, hard, already leaking steadily at the tip. Precum smeared across your fingers as you gave him one slow, experimental stroke, and Leon’s entire body shuddered. His forehead dropped to your shoulder for a second, breath coming in short, ragged bursts against your neck.
“God, oh god,” he panted, hips twitching forward again, chasing the friction. He clung tighter to your sides, fingers digging into the soft flesh there.
You tightened your grip just enough to make him gasp, thumb sweeping over the slick head in a slow circle. He whimpered, and tried to thrust into your hand again, needy little movements that made your own abdomen twist.
“Look at you,” you murmured against his ear, voice low and teasing. “So hard already. Dripping all over my hand like you’ve been thinking about this since you walked in tonight.”
Leon made a broken sound, half-embarrassed, half-starved.
“I - I have,” he admitted in a rush, face buried against your neck. “Fuck, I have. Since you looked at me across the room. I couldn’t - couldn’t stop.”
You huffed a soft laugh, stroking him again, slow and deliberate, letting your thumb drag over the sensitive underside until his thighs trembled.
“Poor rookie,” you teased, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “All worked up and desperate. You want to fuck me that bad?”
The question barely left your mouth before he answered.
“Yes,” he gasped, so fast it cracked in the middle. His face flushed deeper instantly, embarrassment crashing over him like a wave, but he didn’t take it back, couldn’t. “Please. Yes. I want - fuck, I want to be inside you so bad.”
He was panting into your mouth now, kisses turning sloppy and uncoordinated as he rocked into your hand. You felt him throb against your palm, leaking more with every stroke, and his breathing hitched higher, more frantic.
“Wait - wait,” he suddenly pleaded, voice strained. His hand shot down to wrap around your wrist, stilling your movements. “Stop, just - fuck, stop for a second.”
You paused immediately, concern flickering through the haze.
“You okay?”
He nodded quickly, jerky, almost frantic, face flushed scarlet, lips wet and swollen, eyes glassy.
“I’m - yeah. I just - ” He swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t wanna come yet, not like this. I want.. I want to come inside you. If that’s okay, please.”
Your breath caught audibly, thighs tightening around his hips on instinct, before you nodded once.
“Yeah,” you breathed, voice rougher than you meant it to be. “Yeah, that’s more than okay.”
Your hand slid around the back of his neck, fingers threading into the soft hair at his nape and pulling him closer until there was no space left between your mouths. He groaned quietly into the kiss, and one of his hands dropped between you.
He wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, guiding the flushed head through your slick folds in one slow, teasing pass. The contact drew another rough sound from his throat, muffled against your lips. He dragged himself up and down once, twice, coating himself in your slick, every brush against your clit making your thighs tense around his hips.
The first inch slid in slowly, almost hesitantly, and you choked on a soft moan, head tipping back against the edge of the desk. The stretch was immediate, even after you’d had his fingers in you, filling you in a way that made your breath catch and hold.
“Easy,” you whispered, voice rough, fingers tightening at the back of his neck. “Just like that, you’re doing good.”
Leon exhaled shakily, hips rocking forward another careful inch, then another, until he was buried to the hilt. He stilled there, fully seated inside you, and for a long moment neither of you moved.
His forehead dropped to yours, eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted on shallow pants, looking down at you like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. Sweat had begun to gather at his temples, blond strands clinging to his skin.
“You okay?” he asked, voice hoarse and quiet, barely above a whisper. “I - fuck, you feel so good. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
You huffed a breathless laugh, shifting your hips just enough to feel him twitch inside you. He was cute, thinking he could hurt you like this – you wished you could take a bite of him or pocket him forever.
“I’m more than okay,” you murmured, brushing your thumb along the line of his jaw. “You’re perfect. Just - move when you’re ready.”
He swallowed hard, throat working. “I’m trying not to come right now, seriously, you’re so tight and - shit, I can feel every little thing.”
You smiled faintly, tightening around him on purpose just to watch his eyes flutter shut.
“It’d be okay if you did,” you said softly, lips brushing his. “I wouldn’t mind. You’ve been so good for me already.”
Leon made a soft sound, half groan, half whimper, and his cock jerked hard inside you, like your words alone had nearly undone him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck immediately, breathing hot and ragged against your skin, shoulders trembling with the effort of holding back.
“God,” he mumbled into your throat, voice muffled. “Don’t - don’t say stuff like that unless you want me to lose it.”
One of his hands slid up under the hem of your shirt, palm warm and tentative against your bare stomach. He hesitated there, fingers splayed, like he was asking without words.
You arched into the touch, guiding his hand higher.
“Go ahead,” you breathed. “You can touch anything you want..”
He exhaled sharply against your neck and pushed the fabric up, cupping one breast in his palm. His thumb brushed over your nipple, gentle at first, then firmer when you gasped softly, and he groaned low in his throat at the sound. The other hand stayed braced on the desk beside your hip, knuckles white with restraint.
“You’re so - ” He broke off, swallowing again, hips giving the smallest, helpless rock forward. “So fucking perfect. I can’t believe this is happening.”
You huffed a laugh when his hips rocked forward in a shallow, testing thrust. The angle was just right; the head of his cock bumping against that spot inside you that sent a shudder racing up your spine. Your fingers tightened reflexively in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him gasp against your throat.
His hand beneath your shirt felt cool against the flush of your skin, palm broad and steady as he cupped your breast. He didn’t grope or knead, just held, thumb occasionally brushing over your nipple in slow, absent circles.
After a long moment, you shifted your hips deliberately, rolling them in a slow circle that dragged him along your walls.
Leon groaned low in his chest, the sound vibrating where his lips pressed to your neck.
“Move,” you murmured against his jaw, kissing the sharp line there. “Come on, rookie. Don’t make me beg.”
He exhaled shakily, then began to pull out, agonizingly slow, every ridge and vein dragging against you until only the swollen tip remained inside. The emptiness made you clench around nothing, thighs tightening around his hips in protest.
You huffed another soft laugh, lips brushing his earlobe. “Tease. You gonna keep me waiting all night, or - ”
One hard, desperate thrust buried him to the hilt again. The force of it shoved you up the desk an inch, papers crinkling beneath your back, the crooked welcome banner fluttering somewhere behind you. A sharp, startled moan tore out of your throat before you could catch it.
Leon froze for half a second, eyes wide, like he’d surprised himself, then huffed a shaky, almost disbelieving laugh against your mouth.
“Blame the beer,” he muttered, voice rough and unsteady. “It’s making me bolder than I should be.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but he rocked forward again before the words could form, cutting you off with another deep, sloppy thrust. His hand stayed cupped around your breast, thumb still circling your nipple in lazy, distracted strokes, while the other arm banded around your middle, holding you flush against him so you couldn’t slide any further up the desk.
The rhythm was messy, hips snapping forward in uneven, needy strokes that made wet, obscene sounds fill the small office every time he bottomed out. Skin against skin, slick and loud, punctuated by the faint creak of the desk beneath you.
Leon buried his face in the crook of your neck again, whining softly against your skin with every thrust. High, broken little noises that he couldn’t seem to swallow back. His breathing came in short, ragged pants, hot against your collarbone.
“Fuck - fuck, you feel - ” He broke off into another whimper when you clenched around him on purpose, walls fluttering tight. “So good, too good. I can’t - ”
You slid one hand up to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through damp blond strands, the other gripping his shoulder for leverage as you met his thrusts.
“Leon,” you gasped, voice cracking on his name. “Just like that, you’re doing so good. Keep, ah - keep going, don’t stop.”
The praise made him shudder hard, hips stuttering for a second before he drove in deeper, faster, chasing the sound of your voice. Another choked whine spilled out of him, muffled against your throat.
“Say it again,” he pleaded, barely coherent. “Please, plea - ah, fuck, say my name like that.”
“Leon,” you moaned, louder this time, letting it break on the edges. “Fuck, Leon, right there. You’re so fucking good for me.”
He groaned, and the pace turned frantic, sloppy, hips slamming forward with less control and more need. The desk rocked faintly beneath you both, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder, more insistent.
He shifted his angle once, and the head of his cock dragged hard against that spot again. You choked on a sharp inhale, walls fluttering tight around him in response. The sudden clench pulled a high, broken whine from his throat; his mouth fell open against yours, breath hot and ragged, eyes squeezed shut like the sensation was too much to look at.
“Fuck - sorry - ” he gasped between messy kisses, lips sliding wetly over yours, uncoordinated and desperate. “I’m close. I’m so fucking close, I’m sorry, I can’t - ”
You swallowed the rest of his apology with your mouth, kissing him deeper, wetter, tongue curling against his to muffle the words. One hand stayed tangled in his hair while the other gripped his shoulder, nails digging in just enough to anchor yourself as the desk creaked beneath you both.
“Shh,” you murmured against his lips, voice low and rough between open-mouthed kisses. “It’s okay, come for me, Leon. I want you to.”
He groaned, hips pressing forward once, twice. You felt him start to pull back, muscles tensing like he meant to slip out before he spilled, but instinct took over before thought could catch up. Your legs locked tight behind his lower back, heels digging into the small of his spine to keep him buried deep.
“Wait,” you breathed quickly, pulling back just enough to meet his wide, glassy eyes. “You clean?”
He nodded so fast it looked painful, blond strands falling messily into his face. “Yeah, yeah, fuck, yes, swear, plea - ”
You yanked him back down, crashing your mouths together in a sloppy, bruising kiss, tongues sliding, teeth catching.. He groaned into it, hips jerking forward again, harder, messier, chasing release with every desperate thrust. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room again, louder now, obscene in the quiet office.
One of his hands left your breast, sliding down between your bodies with fumbling urgency. His fingers found your clit, clumsy at first, pressing too hard, then easing into tight, frantic circles when you jerked against him with a sharp moan.
“Leon - ” His name came out broken, half-moan, half-plea.
He whimpered against your mouth in answer, thrusting forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt. A long, shuddering groan tore out of him as he came, pulsing hot and thick inside you, hips grinding in small, helpless circles like he couldn’t bear to stop moving even now.
His fingers never stopped on your clit, rubbing messy, overstimulation-edged circles that made your own release crest sharp and sudden. You clenched hard around him, back arching off the desk, a choked cry muffled against his shoulder as you came with him, walls fluttering and milking every last tremor from his cock.
Leon stayed buried inside you for long, lazy moments after, hips rolling in slow, shallow grinds that dragged the sensitive head of his cock along your walls with every small movement. The overstimulation made everything feel too much and not enough at once, the gentle friction kept little aftershocks flickering through you even as your breathing tried to steady.
He was still half-hard, softening gradually but not quite ready to leave the tight heat of you, and every lazy circle of his hips pulled a faint, wet shlick sound from where you were joined. Eventually the sensation edged too close to discomfort. You whined softly, squirming beneath him, hands pressing weakly at his chest in an attempt to create space.
Leon stilled immediately, breath catching. “Sorry - sorry,” he murmured, voice hoarse and low against your temple. He huffed a tired, shaky exhale through his nose, then eased back carefully, slipping out of you with a slow, reluctant drag that left you both gasping at the sudden emptiness.
He leaned in again, nose brushing along the curve of your cheek, then lower to nuzzle against the corner of your mouth. The kisses he pressed there were soft, slow, almost tentative, nothing like the frantic heat from minutes earlier.
You returned the kiss just as gently, one hand cupping the side of his flushed face, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. Too soft, too sweet for the mess you’d just made of each other on a police station desk.
When you finally parted, foreheads resting together, you huffed a quiet laugh against his mouth.
“You’re still shaking,” you murmured, teasing but fond. “Thought you were gonna pass out there for a second.”
Leon let out a breathless chuckle, ears turning pink again. “Yeah, well.. you try not shaking after - ” He gestured vaguely between your bodies, then at the desk, at the rumpled papers still clinging to one corner. “After all that.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but the “Welcome Leon” banner finally gave up its last shred of adhesive. It peeled away with a soft, pathetic flutter and dropped straight onto his head, draping over his blond hair like a cheap party hat.
You stared for half a second, then laughter burst out of you, shoulders shaking as you tried (and failed) to muffle it against his shoulder.
He reached up slowly, cheeks blazing scarlet, and batted the banner off his head with an embarrassed swipe. It floated to the floor in a sad little heap.
“Real smooth,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. But the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying him. “Guess that’s officially the best welcome I’ll ever get in my life. Desk sex and a personalized party decoration to the face. Hard to top.”
You snorted, still giggling, and the motion made you clench around nothing, feeling the slow trickle of his cum starting to leak out. Leon noticed, and his eyes flicked down for a second, then back up, debating dropping to his knees and cleaning you up with his mouth again.
Footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway, someone walking past, maybe heading toward the offices, and reality crashed back in.
You grimaced, already reaching for your discarded bottoms. “Shit, we need to move.”
You tugged your clothes back into place with quick, efficient movements, wincing slightly at the sticky warmth between your thighs. Mental note: find a bathroom, fast, clean up before it becomes obvious to anyone with a functioning nose.
Leon fumbled with his own pants, zipping up with hands that still trembled faintly. You caught his collar before he could fully straighten, yanking him down for one last, brief kiss; hard enough to make him stumble forward a step, breath catching in surprise. His face went scarlet all over again.
You pulled back with a smirk. “Come on, rookie. Before someone finds their desk looking like a crime scene.”
He followed you out on unsteady legs, nearly tripping over the threshold in his haste. You both slipped into the hallway just as a couple of officers rounded the corner and headed toward the office you’d just vacated.
A distant, incredulous yell drifted down the corridor:
“Why the fuck is my desk wet?”
Your gazes met, and the giggles hit at the same time, helpless, muffled against each other’s shoulders as you stumbled blindly down the hallway, trying, and miserably failing, to keep quiet.