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There’s a few things Leon immediately notices the moment he regains consciousness. One, he’s tied to a chair. Two, there’s a bright fucking light shining directly in his face. Three, his gun, axe, and jacket are missing. Fourth, his body is aching from the T-virus. And lastly, he isn’t alone in the room, there’s someone else in here with him.
He opens his eyes to confirm these things. The light is in fact blinding and he has to squint and turn his head away briefly to reorient his vision. His shoulders hurt, a cute little reminder that he’s getting too old for this shit and telling him that he's been in this position for a hot minute. He doesn’t bother trying to tug his arms free of the rope tying him to the chair. He’s been through this too many times to know it won’t work. It's a pipe dream to hope it would ever be that easy.
A single thing remains in his favor, they stupidly forgot to take his utility belt. He makes a mental note that at any point he could reach down, slide a tiny knife off of the belt, and free himself. The ball is in Leon’s court and now all he needs to do is decide when to shoot.
A silhouette steps in front of him (mercifully) blocking out some of the harsh light. Leon’s eyes trail up, and up, and up, the person's form. The person is tall, ridiculously so, maybe eight feet tall? They're wearing a snake skin trench coat with rings to match, a shirt with weird latches, black slacks, and dress shoes, an odd choice in fashion that's for sure. When Leon’s eyes meet the person's face and he isn’t met with a returned glare, but instead a head piece with multiple camera-like lenses adorning the surface, he wants to groan.
It’s Gideon. Victor Gideon. The guy he’s supposed to be tracking down. The guy who choked the lights out of him in that hallway in the Care Center. He must have taken Leon somewhere in the Center, because Leon’s getting real tired of the over-dramatic-bad-guy-reveals.
Gideon tilts his head to the side and studies Leon. And even though his face is masked, Leon can physically feel Gideon’s eyes roam over his body. It’s searing, calculating, like he’s being picked apart piece by piece. Leon pays it no mind and continues to glare up at him.
“Why are you here?” The giant finally asks, his voice reverent and quiet. The question is and isn’t accusatory, but none the less he sounds genuinely curious.
Gideon tilts his head down and his expression morphs into a grin, flashing golden teeth, “Is it for me?” He says, sounding unashamedly hopeful.
When Leon doesn’t answer and only continues to glare, his smile drops and his posture shifts to something reminiscent of annoyed. He shakes his head and scowls, “Or for her?”
If Leon didn’t know any better he’d say the guy sounded a little jealous. Possessive much?
Still, Leon doesn’t say anything. He’s still trying to work out exactly what angle Gideon is playing and what he wants. He’s obviously after Grace in some capacity, he kidnapped her for crying out loud, but she managed to get away (smart girl). But what does he want from her?
The giant man suddenly leans over Leon and he realizes then how close they actually are, maybe only three feet away, five at max. His face gets close to the agent and Leon fights the feeling to flatten his back against the chair and lean away. A hot flash of anticipation flares up his nervous system and his fingers itch to wrap around the axe that isn’t on his tool belt.
“We can talk.” Gideon slowly whispers like they’re school kids on the playground sharing a secret. It’s ridiculous to think Leon wants to talk to this guy. When in reality he actually just wants to finish this mission and go home, where he can nurse his pain in the comfort of his own bed.
Leon grunts and motions with his chin towards the restraints, then he blinks slowly up at Gideon. It's a hint, and an offer, a ‘let me go and we can talk’ or in other words, ‘let me go so I can shoot you in the face’.
Gideon straightens and scoffs, “Right.” Like he’d already known the answer.
He turns his back to Leon and stalks over to a metal rolling table that has a various assortment of medical equipment on it. Leon watches his back as he plucks a tool off of the table and holds it up to eye level to inspect it, how kind. It's a scalpel. How exciting.
Gideon turns back to face Leon and licks his lips, “Or we can begin your ‘treatment’.”
Leon can’t help but laugh a little and despite himself, he smirks, “The silent treatment, I hope.” The joke does nothing to ease the tension coursing through him.
Gideon ignores the (In Leon’s opinion) clever and witty remark and points the scalpel towards him, “You’re an investigator, right?”
Leon wants to argue, to correct him, but Gideon moves towards him wielding the scalpel at his side and another bolt of anticipation lights up his nerves, it makes his whole body itch to move, to fight.
“Then investigate.”
Gideon motions with the scalpel to talk. Leon's eyes follow the metal tool until it disappears behind his back in Gideon's hand. The giant is standing next to Leon on his left, they're so close now that if one of them breathed too deeply they would touch. Gideon’s presence is overwhelming this close, suffocating with how he towers over Leon.
“What do you wanna know?” He asks the agent. There’s a strange tone in his voice that makes Leon feel weird.
The hairs on the back of Leon’s neck stand up and alarm bells start ringing inside his head. This is dangerous, he could very well be in danger. Gideon has a weapon and Leon does not have eyes on it. Leon’s mind hurries to run an assessment of the situation. A scalpel is small, yet extremely dangerous. Gideon could slice his throat open and kill him quickly. He could take his time and slice different arteries open until Leon bled out. He could opt to stab Leon until he eventually died. Or he could slice Leon's stomach open and watch as his organs gushed out onto the floor. There were tons of possibilities.
Leon can feel each individual muscle tense throughout his whole body as natural instinct takes hold. His fingers fiddle with the tiny knife on his belt, not pulling it out just yet, he’s patient. Anxiety and adrenaline pool low in his stomach. His breath comes out in short quiet puffs. He’s wound impossibly tight, like a cobra ready to strike. Leon fixates his eyes somewhere random in the room and focuses his energy into ‘feeling’ where the sharp metal tool is.
Gideon leans over him again and quieter this time he says, “Is this where I conduct my research?” He poses the question as if Leon were asking him.
Leon’s so hyper aware that he can feel Gideon before he actually moves. In Leon's peripheral vision he can see Gideon bring a hand up and he tenses further, bracing himself for impact.
A blow never comes, instead, the giant hand approaches slowly. Gideon’s fingers sweep across the side of his cheek, pausing to feel the stubble there before traveling a little higher until they're brushing his hair out of his face and tucking the strands behind his ear.
The touch is gentle, almost intimate, and definitely raises some suspicions, making the agent question the man’s true intentions behind this little ‘talk’ they're having. Leon is, of course, no stranger to even the most baseless forms of interrogation tactics, but he has to admit he certainly wasn’t expecting this.
Being so tightly wound, and even though he hadn’t been hit, a noise punches out of Leon at the feather light touch. It’s nearly imperceptible, the sound he made, but Gideon’s hand lingers over his shoulder and Leon can hear the whirring of the lenses as they clock it. Fuck. The bastard had heard that.
“Yes.” Gideon practically purrs. And Leon’s mind reels. Could he read minds? No. Impossible. If he could then surely Sherry would have shared that little fact with him. Gideon was answering the question he himself had asked.
Shame and disgust tears through Leon and he desperately tries to come up with an excuse for why his body is betraying him and responding like a fucking teenager. Maybe Gideon had drugged him. The sensual way the man had stroked his neck definitely confirms this assumption. Gideon’s motives were clearly rooted in something that had nothing to do with science, maybe it’s Leon that he wants. Yes. Surely the bastard had drugged him. There’s no other explanation for Leon’s abnormal reaction.
Only, he doesn’t feel any different. Mentally, he’s experiencing no fatigue or drowsiness. His motor functions feel normal. The only change is a singular physical response. So far.
There’s no fooling himself or anyone else though. Leon hadn’t been touched in so long he had started to forget what that actually felt like. No matter how many times the shitty therapist he was required to see told him he needed human contact or ‘intimacy’ as she liked to call it, he never put himself out there and saw anyone, romantically or otherwise. All those years he’d kept telling himself he never had time. He’s owned by the goddamn government, when they call, you go, there isn’t any discussion. So, he’s been busy. He also lacks the ability to believe anyone decent would actually want him after all he’s been through.
Gideon moves around him to stand on his right side, breaking Leon out of his thoughts.
“Are the answers to your disease here?” Gideon speaks as he settles a large, warm hand on Leon’s shoulder and brushes it against the collar of his shirt. Soon Gideon’s fingers find their way under it, he strokes against Leon’s skin where he knows the T-virus bruising is visible. And suddenly the pain is gone, and an overwhelming rush of pleasure sends shocks of electricity throughout Leon’s entire body, head to toe. It feels… God he hates to think it, good.
His whole body has been aching with the infection and the gentle rubbing feels so fucking good. His eyes want to flutter shut, and he desperately wants to relish in the relief. And oh God, he can’t fight it as a searing hot wave of want slides down his veins and pools dangerously low in his gut. The burning in his stomach makes him feel dizzy and light headed, as if he had stood up too fast. His cheeks burn with humiliation and he tries to act normal, or like a normal hostage at least.
But Gideon leans over his shoulder once again, closer now than ever, and Leon can feel the heat radiating off of the giant and the man’s breath on the side of his face. Gideon licks his lips and fuck, is his tongue split? Like an actual honest to God fucking snake?
“...Yes.” Gideon breathes into Leon's ear. And there’s no way he can’t read minds. Except Leon knows for sure he can’t. An intrusive thought worms its way to the forefront of his mind, it's a fucking filthy image of Gideon using that tongue on him. Leon sucks in a breath and feels himself hardening in his pants. He’s disgusted with himself for even thinking about the bastard like that, his body and mind betraying him is just the cherry on top.
A shiver snakes up Leon’s spine and goosebumps quickly follow after it, a hot wave of arousal has him grinding his hips forward, seeking friction he won’t find. And fuck, there’s the whirring of those fuckass lenses behind him again. No doubt recording him. It's obscene, invasive, shameful, hot.
Leon can’t fucking take it anymore, he needs something, anything, he needs to fight, to… to not sit here any longer. So in classic Leon Kennedy fashion, he finally turns to Gideon and gives him the satisfaction of a reaction, “You know, I do have a question. When was the last time you brushed your teeth?”
Gideon doesn’t actually smell like anything at all, that in of itself is strange. But the sass is familiar to who Leon is, makes him feel like himself despite the disgraceful situation he’s found himself in.
The warmth of Gideon’s hand leaves his shoulder and along with it, Gideon himself. Leon physically mourns the loss, sagging forward in his chair, the pain of the T-virus coming back in full effect. Leon grits his teeth and bears it. He wants to beg, to plead like a little bitch for Gideon to come back, to make the pain go away. He doesn't, though, would never reduce himself to such a pathetic mess. It is tempting however. And he wonders if the giant man would come back if he asked.
Gideon moves to stand in front of Leon again, and ah there’s the scalpel. He waves his empty hand around as if searching for the right words to say. It seems he gives up though, because he stills completely and the lenses on his head piece whirr. Leon glares at it defiantly, knowing that he must look like a mess, red faced, arms tied behind his back, legs spread wide, tented pants. A sight for sore eyes, a wet dream for sure.
“Just saving a little something for later, Doll.” Gideon smirks, making an obscene jerking motion with his hand. Fuckin’ perv. He moves towards Leon wielding the scalpel once more. One part of Leon’s brain lights up with excitement, the part that's been starved, the other, more rational side, notes the incoming danger. He really should have listened to his instincts. Gideon brings the scalpel up to the side of Leon’s neck where the bruising is and presses it in just the tiniest amount and drags it across. It leaves a two, maybe three, inch cut in its wake, directly where his artery. It's not very deep, but it's enough to have red blood quickly bubbling to the surface and spilling down his skin.
Leon gasps at the sharp sting and the wet slide of his own blood trickling down the side of his neck. It's painful, but nothing compared to some of the things he’s been through. His arms strain against the back of the chair, and his head spins for a completely different reason now. His cock throbs in his pants. It hurts so good. Feels like a release. Like a breath of fresh air after having been suffocated for so long.
Through the blurry haze of fuck, fuck, fuck, his mind dutifully reminds him that none of this is right. It’s downright fucking disgraceful how aroused he is, how desperate for this he is. And for Victor Gideon no less. A fucking bioterrorist. He must be fucked in the head. He’s crossed so many lines, he’s beyond fucked if anyone, god forbid Sherry, finds out. He hopes to God she’s not listening.
A sudden thought crosses his mind. The knife. At the back of his belt. He could slip his finger into the tiny thing and saw himself free. Now’s his chance to rectify things and restore some dignity.
Gideon is moving again, away from Leon and back towards the metal cart, presumably to grab more tools. “Do you believe in human evolution?” He throws the question over his shoulder as he passes Leon.
Leon isn’t listening and he doesn’t particularly care about the mechanics of human evolution either. He only cares about saving people and making sure they live. It's his job for a reason. Gideon sets the scalpel on the tray and Leon slips the knife out of its clip.
“I have devoted my life to studying it.”
Gideon comes to crouch in front of Leon, hands on his knees and continues, “While you have devoted your life…” Leon saws at the rope quickly, determination ripping through him, “To failure.”
Once he feels the snap of the final thread giving way, Leon kicks Gideon flat in the chest and bolts to his feet. Gideon stumbles back with an angry shout, almost knocking that dreadful light over in the process. He reorients himself and lunges at Leon, taking hold of the agent’s arms. With Gideon’s hands occupied, it gives Leon an opening to kick in one of his knees and bring him down a notch, it’s a perfect opportunity to land a roundhouse kick to the giant’s face.
Gideon stumbles further back this time, knocking into a large cupboard stood against the wall. He grabs a hold of it and breathes heavily for a second as he readjusts his headpiece that had gone askew in the tumble.
While Gideon is distracted Leon throws himself into action, searching wildly for his gun or axe, or literally anything he could use to defend himself. His best bet is the medical table so he checks there first, holding a hand to his bleeding neck. He throws himself over to the table, and thank fuck his gun is sitting there all pretty like and tempting. He goes to grab it, wants to feel the cool metal in his hand, the safety that it brings. He doesn’t get to.
Gideon is behind him again, Leon hadn’t heard him move across the room, which is terrifying for how giant the man is. He knocks the gun from Leon’s hands and sends it flying across the room, far away. Leon attempts to throw a punch, but Gideon grabs a hold of his arm and uses the momentum to shove Leon backwards.
Leon spins around and catches himself on another rolling cart. He searches the top of it, but it isn’t like the other one. This one doesn’t have anything on it.
Leon’s stomach drops, and his adrenaline spikes. It’s fear he’s feeling, he can’t fight hand to hand combat and keep himself from bleeding out at the same time.
Leon is only mildly freaking out when Gideon grabs him from behind again, only this time there aren’t any blows to exchange or weapons to disarm. Gideon’s large hands find Leon’s waist and wrap around it, it confuses Leon, startles him. He struggles in the man’s grip, he tries to fight, but combined with the man’s strength and the T-virus weakening him it's no use. And then he’s being lifted like he weighs nothing.
He’s laid across the top of the rolling cart, bent over it really, stomach first, the things so tall his toes barely touch the ground. There’s alarm bells blaring inside his mind now. A constant string of this isn’t good, this isn’t good, this isn’t good.
Gideon wrestles Leon's arms into the same position they were in while he was strapped to the chair. Only now, ropes aren’t holding him in place, Gideon is. One large hand has Leon's arms and chest pinned to the table, while the other comes to rest at Leon’s right hip, steadying them both. The giant just stands there, the length of his body pressing Leon against the table. It's a miracle the thing hasn’t rolled away. Leon tests it, tries to push the thing forward with his body, but it won’t budge. It’s no use, it must be locked in place.
Nothing happens for nearly a minute, only the sound of ragged breathing in the otherwise quiet room. Just as Leon starts to get antsy Gideon speaks.
“Your move, Doll.” The words are quiet, almost too loud in the silence, “What do you desire?” Gideon’s obviously talking about the very prominent problem that’s occurring between them, the metaphorical elephant in the room. And shit, Leon’s surprised he’s even asking and not just taking. It would be easier if Gideon did just have his way with Leon. Then Leon wouldn’t have to feel guilty for wanting it so damn bad.
It's like Gideon can sense Leon’s distress, how torn he is from giving in and letting himself have this one thing or remaining in the safe territory of plausible deniability. He feels the other man’s thumb start to rub circles into his skin and he almost loses it at how nice it feels. He realizes Gideon’s letting him think about it, he’s being patient. It’s… it’s kind. Leon lets out a shaky sigh as the soothing gesture slowly bleeds the tension out of his body.
Leon’s mind is fuzzy, he’s still dizzy, and his erection is still straining against his pants, pressing dangerously into the side of the table. He does want this. He wants to be held, and pet, and praised, and fucked. He wants Gideon to fuck him. He wants relief from the ache in his body, wants the years of trauma to be silenced if even for a brief moment in time. There’s been so much bad in his life, and no matter how morally fucked up, a part of his brain has deemed this as a ‘good’. And God, how he yearns for it.
He wants to beg and plead again, even after he told himself he wouldn’t. He can’t say the words, can’t get them to form in his mouth or come past his lips. He’s in his late forties and can’t even manage to tell someone he wants to have sex with them, for crying out loud, it’s a fucking shame. Leon’s always prided himself in being adaptable though. So, he opts to slowly, oh so slowly, press back against Gideon’s front. He knows his message is received when the familiar whirr of the lenses emits from behind him. The giant growls at the confirmation and presses his hips fully against Leon.
Leon can feel him now, can feel Gideon through his slacks, can feel just how proportionate he is. It didn’t occur to Leon until just now that Gideon is of course massive, so of course his cock would be too. He’s also fucking hard, hard for Leon.
The thought makes him light headed, makes his eyelids flutter shut. A white hot flash of arousal shoots through his gut and burns up his nerves, Leon drops his head to the top of the cart with a thunk and groans open mouthed against it.
Gideon chuckles softly behind him and its fucking humiliating. Because he gets it, can see straight through Leon. Knows Leon can’t ask for what he wants, because saying it out loud would make it real.
“Gonna need your words, Sweetheart.” It almost breaks something in him, it really does. The words almost slip out. But they’re still stuck, lodged in his throat, caught on guilt. He needs something though, for Gideon to stop playing cat-and-mouse with him and get on with it. So, he shakes his head against the table with a hoarse whine and grinds his ass against Gideon’s clothed cock.
It seems to do the trick, because Gideon hisses at the sudden friction and returns the movement, grinding his cock into Leon’s ass. The hand on his hip tightens and Gideon uses it to pull Leon back against him. The hand holding his arms releases them and Leon has to scramble to hold onto the side of the cart, because the sudden loss makes him feel like he’s gonna fall through the floor.
And then Gideon does something unexpected, Gideon’s (now free) hand slides up Leon’s back deliciously, before curling into his hair and pulling backwards, lifting Leon’s head off the table and forcing an arch in his back. And then Gideon’s pulling his hips back and slapping them against Leon’s ass repeatedly. It takes Leon only a nanosecond to realize that Gideon is imitating fucking him.
The movement makes the cart rock dangerously, and it only fuels the liquid heat shooting through him. It's embarrassing that that’s all it takes for Leon’s remaining dignity to crack and shatter into a million tiny pieces. And if he was any more lucid he’d be absolutely mortified with himself.
“Fuck! Gideon please…” Leon groans wantonly, gripping the cart for dear life. It’s filthy hearing his own self say something so obscene, even worse because it makes him sound like a fucking virgin and not forty-nine. It’s too much. He’s going to fucking explode if Gideon doesn’t fuck him soon.
He can hear the triumphant smirk in Gideon’s voice as the giant bastard says, “That’s the idea, Doll.”
Gideon’s hands disappear from Leon and for a minute it's only Leon breathing heavily, slumped over the cart. He feels Gideon still behind him, can hear him fumbling with his belt, can hear the whip it makes as Gideon rips it from its loops.
Gideon wraps a fist in Leon’s chest harness and suddenly Leon’s being hoisted off the table and spun around. Adrenaline floods through him briefly, mentally preparing himself to fight again despite his mind being basically mush at this point. It’s good that he doesn’t have to, because Gideon simply lifts him back up and lays him across the cart, face up this time. He’s now facing Gideon and can see everything he’s doing now, it’s a tiny relief, makes him feel a little calmer.
Only now, there’s nowhere comfortable for his legs to go besides dangling them awkwardly over the side of the table. Leon’s face twists in discomfort and annoyance as he tries to get comfortable, luckily he doesn’t have to dwell on it for too long, because Gideon’s sliding between his legs and gently taking hold of his thighs and wrapping them around his waist. And apparently the trench coat’s staying on, because he hasn’t removed it.
Gideon’s hands travel back to Leon’s hips, as they always seem to (Leon does have a perfect grabbable waist) and yanks on the belt keeping his cargos on. “Take. Them. Off. Now.” Gideon hisses, tugging on it harshly, “If you wish to keep them.”
Leon quickly does as he’s told, because yeah, he’d like to keep his clothing intact. He wouldn’t wanna walk around the Care Center naked, now would he? Also, he hurries because his cock is starting to hurt from being neglected for so long. His fingers shake slightly as they scramble to unbuckle his belt and pull it free. Once it's located somewhere on the floor, he goes for his pants and boxer briefs next. Gideon beats him to it as he takes hold of each side of Leon’s cargos and underwear and rips them down his legs until they're also located on the floor somewhere.
Leon gasps as his aching, leaking cock is exposed to the cool temperature of the room. It bobs up and slaps him in the stomach, coating his skin in precum. It's undeniable proof that he’s into this and it makes his face burn with shame.
And if things couldn’t get worse, Leon feels even more naked with his boots on, then if he didn’t have them on at all. So, he kicks those off, and they join the pile of discarded clothing.
It’s mortifying being so close to Gideon like this, laid bare under him, with nowhere to go or hide, meanwhile the giant is still fully dressed. Leon’s not shy in any way, it's just that he’s vulnerable, something he hasn’t let himself be for nearly thirty years. It makes him nervous, causing shocks of anxiety in his entire nervous system. Leon ignores it like he has so many times in the past, and looks up at Gideon with hooded eyes.
Gideon’s gazing down at him exactly like earlier, he’s completely still with his head tilted down to the side. And just like before, he can feel the man’s eyes roaming up and down his body, on his face, his arms, his legs, his exposed stomach, his cock. Gideon’s devouring him with his eyes.
Leon makes a connection in his mind right then, he’s seen enough Nat Geo to know that Gideon’s behavior is synonymous to how predators view their prey. And if Gideon’s the predator in this scenario, then that makes Leon his prey. The thought is exciting, it lights up Leon’s flight or fight response and makes his cock throb. Not surprisingly, the cameras on Gideon’s headpiece whirr as they catch the motion and Leon’s thighs involuntarily go to close, but they can’t because Gideon is between them.
“You know, you really are a perfect specimen.” Gideon growls as one of his large hands travels up Leon's leg, warm calloused palm caressing his skin. Leon wants to argue again, nothing about him is perfect in any capacity. He might've been some odd years ago, pretty even, but now, he’s just old and tired.
“Just get on with it already, I don’t have all day.” Leon says, ignoring those thoughts, because Gideon’s hand is now traveling higher and he thinks the other man is about to wrap his hand around Leon’s cock, and every nerve in his body burns alight and readies for it.
Only, Gideon’s hand doesn’t wrap around his cock, instead he takes two fingers, dips it into the precum on Leon’s stomach, and brings it to Leon’s mouth. Disappointment crushes Leon for only half a second before he’s taking them in his mouth. He sucks on the fingers without complaint, and can't deny that he tastes good. It makes him feel like he’s in his twenties again, in some shitty dive bar, giving head to a stranger just to feel something. Not unlike what he’s doing now.
Above him, Gideon groans like a man who's been in the desert for days and has just found water.
Leon coats the rough digits in spit before letting them slip wetly out of his mouth. He thinks Gideon might finger him with them, and God knows he’s beyond ready for it. It's just the case that Gideon is unpredictable, chaotic, because he takes his newly wet hand and then wraps it around Leon’s cock. It's so sudden that Leon arches off of the table and tightens his thighs so strongly around Gideon he’s shocked the man doesn’t complain. It’s like he was prepared for it though, because he places a hand on Leon’s stomach to flatten him back to the table and uses the other to glide up Leon’s length.
And just like before, the pain from the T-virus fades away and all that's left is a wave of good washing over him.
The man’s hand slides up and down his cock in brutally slow strokes. Gideon dips his thumb into the slit at the head, and then suddenly he does a twist motion that punches a half-whine half-growl of, “Fuckkk…” Out of Leon’s lungs. Gideon is good at this, too fucking good. It’s almost like he’s spent his entire life studying the human body.
Gideon’s palm is so wet and warm that the way he’s jerking Leon off has his vision turning blurry and spotted, and all Leon can do is hang his head off the back of the cart, grip the sides of it with all his strength, and pray he doesn’t blow his load in seconds.
He needs to focus on something else for a minute if he wants to make this last. And that's when he notices how cold the side of his neck is, as if it's wet. His neck is wet, he’s still bleeding, has been bleeding this entire time, his mind informs him. That’s probably why he feels so lightheaded, he’s lost a good bit of blood. Leon brings a hand up to the side of his neck, rubs at it, and then brings it to his face.
And sure enough his hand is painted a bright bloody red. Leon fucking moans at the sight, arousal ripping through him. It should be concerning, but really? Isn’t this whole situation fucking concerning? Getting aroused by seeing his own blood on his hand is the least of his concerns if we’re keeping score here. Fucking a bioterrorist surely beats having a blood kink.
Gideon observes the revelation and grins down at Leon, golden teeth catching the light. “Find out something new about yourself, huh Doll?” The man’s voice is filled with adoration. Having been caught, Leon grunts awkwardly and nods quickly, turning his head to the side to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. He’s an old man he doesn’t fucking blush.
“Let's see about this…” Gideon mumbles as he brings the hand up from Leon’s stomach and repeats Leon’s earlier action. His fingers cup Leon’s neck gently and bring back a palmful of Leon’s blood. There’s so much that it starts to drip down Gideon’s wrist and Leon watches with rapt attention as it slides all the way down into his sleeve. He should be more concerned about bleeding out and dying, but he just can’t bring himself to care with how good he’s feeling. The sight of Leon’s blood on Gideon has the agent fucking up into the man’s fist, panting open mouth and groaning like a dog in heat.
Gideon flashes him another smile and his hand leaves Leon’s cock suddenly, it moves to lift Leon’s leg up and over his shoulder. The new position is nice, closer, but Leon is still left wondering what he’s going to do with all of that blood. That is, until Gideon’s hand travels down, down, down, past his cock, and oh holy fuck. It clicks into place what Gideon plans to do.
Something wet prods at Leon’s entrance, and it could only be one thing, Gideon’s fingers, which are sopping wet with Leon’s blood. Gideon plans to finger Leon open, with Leon’s own blood. It’s sickening, disgusting, fucking revolting. It makes Leon drop his head back and whine, it's rusty and hoarse, but loud. Leon’s never made that sound before, didn’t even know he was capable of making it, a sound a man in his forties should not make.
“Knew you’d like that, Leon.” Gideon groans, his voice much deeper than before. Leon doesn’t have to look up to know he’s grinning still, the smug bastard. He seems to know Leon better than Leon knows himself, always seems to know exactly what the agent needs. It pisses Leon off at how attractive he finds it. How unfair the advantage Gideon has over him is.
Gideon slips a finger into Leon slowly, almost excruciatingly so. The stretch burns in a good way. He’s being gentle. Leon wants to tell him not to, to tell him to be rough, that he doesn’t deserve it nice and slow. His body, however, says differently, he’s so tight that Gideon grunts, he’s having trouble just getting his fingers in.
“I’m going to need you to relax for this, Doll.” Gideon whispers, working his finger slowly in and out of Leon’s entrance, trying to get him to loosen up. But Leon can’t. Can’t force himself to just relax, and open up. His life depends on him being tense twenty-four-seven, how’s he supposed to just turn that off?
If after all this he can’t get fucked because his body’s being fucking stubborn, he’s actually going to crash the fuck out, or cry, at his grown age. Either one works for him.
Just when Leon thinks he actually might start crying, Gideon brings a hand back up to Leon’s cock and starts jerking him off again. It doesn’t work for a second because the spit has dried and now it's all chafing skin, but Gideon tsks, spits a new glob of spit onto the palm of his hand, and wraps it back around Leon making the agent gasp. It's nasty. It's heavenly just like before, but even better now because it’s Gideon’s spit on his cock and not his own.
Soon, Leon is limp on the table. He feels better than he has in ages, without the pain of the virus disturbing him, and with Gideon working him from both ends, he enters some form of fully relaxed fucked out state. Gideon’s technique works, because after only a minute he can fit both fingers inside of Leon’s hole and is even working on a third.
And Gideon’s fingers are big and Leon moans openly at the feeling of being so, so full. And before he can process it, he’s grinding down on the man’s fingers and fucking up into his fist. It feels so fucking good. And it makes Gideon groan loudly above him, he finds himself liking the fact that the other man thinks he’s attractive, so Leon doesn’t stop. Doesn’t think he could pull himself away and stop even if something or someone entered the room.
His orgasm creeps up on him rapidly, his balls begin to tighten, his walls begin to clench around Gideon’s fingers, his abdomen tightens, his vision starts to swim and whiten out. Leon catches the signs and right before he’s about to finish he groans a weak, “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”
He says it so quietly it's a wonder Gideon hears it at all. But the next thing he knows is Gideon’s ripping his fingers out of him and gripping the base of his cock so tight that he’s afraid his dick might fall off.
The force Gideon uses on him knocks the air out of his lungs and leaves him wheezing, gripping onto the man's arm for support. Leon’s abs strain with how he’s assumed a half-laying-down half-sitting-up position. He bites his lip until he feels his orgasm subside, and when it does, he flops back down to the table and breathes out a shaky breath.
Gideon releases him a second later and Leon’s cock slaps back against his stomach with a wet sound. He’s still panting when he hears the familiar sound of a fly being unzipped. Leon sits up slightly because he has to see what’s about to go inside himself. Gideon works his slacks open, pulls his boxers down, takes himself in hand with a hiss and gives his cock a couple of good strokes, all while staring directly down at Leon. He’s trimmed, veiny, his skin is rough and grooved like the rest of him. And just like Leon thought, he’s fucking huge.
The sight of him has Leon’s mouth watering, his blood singing in his veins, and his ass clenching around nothing. It has Leon whining again, because Gideon seemed to like it when he made that noise, and tugging at Gideon’s sleeve where he’s still holding Leon’s leg over his shoulder. He needs Gideon desperately. Needs him so badly that if doesn’t have him, he might just die.
So, Leon grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him forward whilst simultaneously using his legs to bring him closer. The angle’s all wrong, and instead of Gideon slipping into Leon as intended, the man’s cock only slides against his entrance.
“Such an eager little thing.” Gideon growls lowly, grabbing Leon by the hips and dragging his cock back and forth across his hole. It's good, the feel of Gideon so close to where Leon needs him. But it just isn’t fucking enough. Leon groans a long huff of annoyance and feels genuine tears start to prick the corners of his eyes.
“Your words, Doll.” Gideon purrs above him, and the agent watches as he tilts his head and presses a kiss to the side of Leon’s calf. It's sloppy and wet and there’s a little scrape of teeth that makes Leon’s already clouded mind spin. Gideon knows the effect he’s having on Leon, he’s aware of it and is exploiting it. Again, it's unfair. It's torture.
It’s too much. Leon can’t take it anymore. His cock is aching with how hard he is, and Gideon’s cock sliding against him is driving him fucking crazy, because all it would take is the man pressing up and forward a few inches and he’d be inside Leon. But Gideon isn’t giving it to him, and the pain from the virus is starting to come back, and Gideon won’t let him have the relief he’s craving.
He can’t do anything to stop it as red hot tears break from his eyes and slide down the sides of his face. He’s crying for God's sakes, making quiet little hiccup sounds and shaking on top of the table, and he doesn’t fuckin’ care, because he’s been given a taste of relief and it’s being ripped away. He’s burning up inside with a need he can’t satiate, and there’s someone here that can take it away and they’re not helping.
Above him Gideon curses, and reaches a hand into his trench coat. This should alarm Leon, and it scares him a little to find that it doesn’t, he doesn’t have the capability to care currently. He’s willing to die to get this awful soul crushing pain to stop, is ready to accept that fate. Gideon brandishes a pocket knife, grumbling to himself, and Leon thinks he’s really actually going to kill him.
He doesn’t. The man brings the knife up, slices the palm of his right hand open, and tucks the knife back into his coat. He wraps the hand that's now profusely gushing blood around his cock with a strained groan. He doesn’t take time to relish in it though and he makes quick work of lubing his length up. He’s hurrying because Leon’s in distress. He cares.
Gideon’s left hand grips the agent's hip, and Leon can see him lining his bloody cock up with his hole. And his mind shouts, Yes, Yes, Yes! It kisses his entrance and Gideon pushes in slowly, hissing through his teeth at how fucking tight Leon must be, the tip of his cock pressing just past Leon’s rim. The stretch burns something awful and Leon feels like he’s being split open.
He’s finally going to get fucked, the pains going to go away again. A fresh wave of arousal hits Leon and he can’t stop the sob that tears out of his throat.
“Shhhhhhhh…” Gideon hushes him, rubbing a warm palm up Leon’s side, as he slides further into Leon. And when Leon squeezes around him a little too tightly he purrs, “C’mon Doll, you can take it.”
Leon groans at his words and uses all his strength to force himself to relax. The wet glide of Gideon opening him up with his cock is delicious, intoxicating. His bloody cock, mind you. Gideon is fucking his own blood into Leon. In some fucked up way, he’s claiming Leon. It’s primitive, it’s fucking disgusting.
When Gideon’s completely inside the agent he pauses, massaging the agent where the bruising is visible, presumably to get him to relax and adjust to his size. Leon’s grateful because it’s been a long ass fucking time since he’s done this and he’s feeling it. There’s an ache starting to form in his ass and hips, one’s probably from age, but the others definitely from Gideon’s massive cock.
It feels nice to be cared for, but a minute ticks by and Leon’s growing antsy. He’s already begun to grind down onto the man’s cock, seeking any friction he can get. Leon nods at Gideon and squeezes his legs around the man, motioning for him to move, because if he doesn’t Leon is going to explode. Or kill him.
As if he can hear Leon’s thoughts, Gideon smiles wickedly down at him, leans down over Leon, brings his face close to Leon’s stomach and presses a kiss to the exposed skin where his shirt has risen up over time. Leon’s cock jumps at the touch, and Gideon places one there as well. It’s intimate, a gesture you’d only do with a partner you’ve been with for a long time. And oh hell, Leon’s face is burning again, absolutely shell shocked in a way his career and age shouldn’t allow for.
So, when Gideon places both hands on Leon’s hips and drags his cock slowly out of Leon, leaving the tip just barely in, then slams himself all the way back in, Leon damn near wails.
“Fuck! Victor!” Leon cries, gripping desperately onto the sides of the cart. Saying Gideon’s actual name earns him a growled, “Good boy, Leon.” And then Gideon’s wrapping a hand around him again and thrusting harshly into him. It’s so, so, so, fucking perfect. It's exactly what he needs.
The pace that Gideon sets is brutal. The sounds of Gideon’s grunts, Leon’s groans, and their hips connecting filling the room. The cart starts to rock dangerously again, but Leon pays it no mind, preferring to focus on the hand sliding beautifully up and down his cock and the man pounding deep into his ass.
Every thrust punches against Leon’s prostate, making him shudder and his breath hitch. Leon rolls his hips the best he can to meet Gideon’s, but it's a stuttering attempt seeing as he can’t decide whether to go up or down with Gideon working him from both angles. So, he just decides to do both. Fucking up into the warm hand around his leaking cock and fucking himself onto the other man’s cock.
Electric shocks zing up his spine as he gets closer and closer to finishing. Soon, he's panting and moaning with each thrust of Gideon’s cock. The other man seems to be close as well, because with each time he bottoms out he growls and grinds into Leon before pulling out to start the process all over.
His climax approaches the same way as before, his body begins to tense, his vision begins to go hazy, his balls tighten, and he’s clenching down around Gideon. This time Gideon is prepared for it though, this time he can feel when Leon’s about to cum. Gideon grins devilishly down at him, quickens his thrusts, and the hand around Leon’s cock grips him tighter, jerks him faster.
And with a particularly well placed thrust against his prostate, Leon nearly blacks out, groaning, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkk—” Loudly as he spills into Gideon’s fist. His mind goes completely blank, his eyes screw shut, and he’s left panting open mouthed as he chases the orgasmic bliss washing over him. Gideon doesn’t stop fucking him as he milks Leon’s cock until it’s spent and softening against the agent’s stomach.
Leon sags against the table. He feels limp, wrung out and floaty, too loose to even think about moving. Gideon’s thrusts have slowed down and just as overstimulation begins to creep into his nerves, Gideon pulls out of Leon with a hoarse grunt. He grabs a hold of his cock again, and oh fuck its still smeared with blood in some places, and begins jerking himself off rapidly over top of Leon.
Gideon finishes with Leon’s name on his lips, cum spurting from the tip of his cock and painting Leon’s stomach white. It has Leon moaning as a spike of arousal shoots through his spent body. It’s nasty and going to be a bitch to clean if it dries, but it’s the hottest thing Leon’s ever seen.
Leon lays there on top of the table with his legs still wrapped around Gideon for the time being. It’s quiet in the room, the only sound being the men’s heavy breathing. He doesn’t want to move. Doesn’t want to risk the pain coming back. So, he decides he’ll move in a minute, when his body and mind catch up to each other. Then, he’ll clean up and continue his mission as ordered.
Gideon pulls away from him a minute later, and Leon groans as his legs fall down and he’s forced to stand up. He doesn’t want to move yet, but Gideon’s made the choice for him. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, but he does because he has to keep tabs on Gideon. Even after… that, he’s still dangerous. He could seriously hurt Leon if he wasn’t paying attention.
Leon feels gross with the cum drying on his stomach and knowing that there’s dried blood in his sore ass, but he doesn’t have anything to clean himself with, so he opts to just find his clothes. He looks around the floor for them and spots them a few feet away. A noise to his left has him looking over at Gideon, who's grabbing something off of the medical cart. Leon doesn’t think he could fight in the state he’s in, but nevertheless he readies himself anyway.
He takes a step back and his vision swims, his eyesight narrowing as black crowds in. His heart is pounding in his chest and he stumbles into the cart and he feels like he’s going to faint. He only just manages to catch himself before his knees start to feel like jelly.
Gideon’s in front of him in seconds and Leon throws a weak, sloppy punch, because Gideon had to have drugged him this time. Gideon grabs his arm and stops the movement and then he’s saying something that's muffled, because there’s a ringing in Leon’s ears. All he sees before he blacks out is Gideon holding something, maybe a rag, or a cloth of some kind. He feels the man take it and rub at his neck and then his stomach, and then he’s gone as darkness comes to take him.
Leon doesn’t know how much time has elapsed when he wakes up. Just that he feels good. The pain from the virus has dulled down to a low hum instead of the aggressive throbbing it had been previously. He still feels bone tired, but there's an energy in his body that he hasn’t felt in ages. It’s nice.
He’s back in the metal chair he’d first woken up in, but not tied down. He’s not naked anymore, he’s in his clothes and his boots are back on his feet. Gideon must have cleaned him up and dressed him while he was out. He looks around the room, his eyes searching for Gideon. The room is empty except for Leon, he’s alone, Gideon’s nowhere to be seen. And that only makes Leon’s job harder. Now he needs to find Gideon and Grace. He searches for his gun on the floor but it isn’t there. It’s back on the medical cart, conveniently placed right next to a med injector.
Right. He’s spent too much time here. He needs to contact Sherry and get moving.