Chapter Text
“I’m going to stop agreeing to help you with shit.” Pinned down behind gunfire, Leon Kennedy was – for the first time in his life – questioning his life choices.
The man beside him only laughed. “ Now you want to question your life choices?” It was a sarcastic and forced laugh, so he knew Chris found nothing going on very funny, least of all his declaration.
Chris had asked him to help on a mission. In and out , he had said. He promised him they’d be back at a hotel three hours away from the drop point for drinks before the sun went down. They were now over twelve hours in, deep underneath a village somewhere in Mongolia, and pinned down by fire.
“I mean, we haven’t even seen any B.O.W.s, Redfield.” He reloaded his weapon and shook his head. “This is just the human element.”
He swore he heard Chris growl under his breath. “I’m not going to keep apologizing for bad intel, but if you recall correctly in your alcohol saturated brain, I said I didn’t think it would be in and out because it never is.”
Whatever rebuttal Leon was planning was silenced by a bullet large enough to burst through a section of the concrete between them they were ducked behind. “Fuck this.” He reached on to Chris’ chest harness and pulled out a grenade. “We can’t shoot our way out of this so we have to chance the tunnel collapsing.”
Chris’ expression didn’t seem fine with Leon’s suggestion but he nodded anyway; Leon loved it when he was right even when he was so damn wrong.
*
In order to fully appreciate the fuckery of that moment, it was important to properly lay out the scenes that happened before.
“In and out.” Chris had laid out maps and a folder full of data his team had collected while fresh from the shower with a towel around his waist and a towel around his neck he kept reaching up to his hair to rub dry. They had been so confident in what they had dug up, they were only going to send Chris.
In truth, Leon felt overdressed.
Leon should have known when he started his sales pitch by handing him a glass of whiskey that it was too good to be true. “If it’s in and out,” he asked as he took a drink of the amber colored liquid. “Why the hell do you need backup?”
“When has anything in our line of work ever been in and out ?”
As Leon was wont to do, he took that moment of omission to stare at the hotel room they had cozied up in. Cozied up wasn’t accurate either, if he had opted to be honest with himself. It was a moderately sized one bedroom cabin in a rural part of the country. It seemed BSAA had rented the entire thing out just to set up reconnaissance and didn’t bother to get him his own room. And there was Chris, giving a mission briefing – slash – sales pitch while drying off from a shower.
“Your sales pitch skills need work,” he lied. Half naked Chris Redfield was a surprisingly great sales pitch but he shook the glass he just emptied at him to deflect from what he was actually implying.
Chris smirked but brought the whiskey bottle over and filled up Leon’s glass. “For a second I thought you were requesting a strip show on top of free booze.”
Is that something I can fucking ask for and get? “Would that make you cheaper than the whiskey or are you implying that I’m not worth a five star strip show?” Leon hurried and tipped the glass back before he could say anything else stupid.
“If you help me do a sweep of the building to see if they missed anything, we’ll see.” And the bastard Captain Chris Redfield laughed like he was joking.
Leon was thankfully too smooth to choke on his alcohol but he did have to set his cup down and clear his throat. “Alright.” He tapped his finger on the desk’s surface. “Yeah, whatever, I’ll help. In and out, right?”
*
-“ How did you die, Agent Kennedy?” “Oh, you know, got promised to see full frontal of Chris Fucking Redfield and lost all my goddamned common sense. Totally relatable reasons, right?”-
The eulogy would be hilarious, but Leon had a mission and it wasn’t the mission he was helping Chris salvage. “I wasn’t going to hold you to a strip tease,” Leon said with his finger curled around the grenade’s pin, “But if we get out of this, your goddamned thighs and ass reveal better be worth it.”
No sooner had he pulled the pin and tossed the grenade over the barricade, Chris had shoved him forward and covered Leon with his own body. He knew when pulling the pin, trying to get Chris his own cover was out of the question; he managed to get his hands up to cover what he could of the back of Chris’ neck and skull before the grenade exploded and sent a shockwave through the entire tunnel.
The thing about explosions is that they rarely ever quieted . There was always jostling of loosened debris from impact and detonation. Rocks constantly slid. If the structural integrity was damaged, you could hear the rumble of support beams collapsing or everything above your head preparing to drop on you on a moment’s notice. In their position, it was quiet enough that Chris felt content to slowly lift himself up to make sure Leon was okay.
“Did you stop to think about how you’d shoot a gun if your hands got fucked up doing that?”
Leon couldn’t even appreciate the man hovering over him because his hand was throbbing. “Never occurred to me,” he grimaced and pulled it against his chest. “You’re welcome, by the way, you ungrateful fuck.”
Chris sat up to look over what was left of their makeshift barricade to ensure there was no movement coming from where the gunmen had been firing. “Alright, let me see your hand.”
Leon groaned as he sat up and pushed Chris back off of him. “It’s fine.” He held his hand up. “Nice gash, probably gonna bruise, and it’s the left hand. I still have a hand to shoot a gun.”
“No sex jokes about hand jobs? Clearly you still managed to take a hit to the head in the explosion.” Chris narrowed his eyes as he slid his gun to his back and pulled out his first aid spray and bandages. “Thanks.”
“Do you want a hand job? I’m sure it’s good enough for that, too.” In honesty, Leon expected a thanks , but he hadn’t expected the intimate level of care Chris was offering his hand as he sprayed the industry standard cure all on his open gash. “No problem.” There was even more confusion with how considerate he was when wrapping his hand.
“Bullshit aside, can you still use it?” He flexed Leon’s fingers closed, and then opened them. “Feel ok?”
It took a moment before Leon could respond. His brain demanded to know why the asshole was still single and that was both mission inappropriate and too forward. He managed a nod before his eyes, desperate for something other than Chris to look at, noticed the explosion had given them a hidden path. “Eighty four years later, I think we found the thing your team overlooked.”
“That explains why they were determined to stop us right in the middle of a dead end corridor.” Chris stood up first then offered his hand to Leon. “Fingers crossed that was their last line of defense.”
Leon accepted the help up and awkwardly let go of Chris’ hand before moving past him. “It’s bioterror,” he said. “There’s never a last line of defense . Just neverending terror with lunch breaks.”
*
Twenty detonation charges that eradicated a hidden underground science lab later, followed by a hazmat sweep team to ensure no traces of contamination remained, Leon was blissfully back in a civilized part of Mongolia with a five star hotel booked in his name. They’d offered him space at the retreat they’d rented out but that wasn’t for him. It never had been. Who did camaraderie in their line of work and not pay for it later?
He’d barely gotten out of the shower and got a towel wrapped around his waist when he heard a knock at the door. “I didn’t order room service.” He was already reaching for his gun and flinched when he tried to use his injured hand.
“It’s Chris.”
Leon blinked and stared at the door but slowly put his gun back down on the dresser. “How the fuck did you find me?” Wet fingers slid against the door chain and unlocked the deadbolt before he opened the door to find, as advertised, Chris Redfield. “Don’t tell me. You have another in and out mission you need help with.”
Chris didn’t answer immediately. In fact, Leon felt absolutely scandalized with the way Chris was looking at him. Instead of using his words, Chris eventually extended a bottle of whiskey.
Leon took the bottle and looked down at it before opening it up. “My favorite password.” He took a drink and decided if he was going to get looked over, he was going to return the favor. It was decidedly strange to see Chris not wearing uniform fatigues of any kind but there he was, in a pair of dress slacks and a button up shirt like he was heading out to the club to pick up some lucky individual for the night. Chris wasn’t at the club, however. He was standing outside Leon’s hotel room.
Leon took another drink. “So.” He licked his lips. “In and out mission?”
Though Chris hesitated, he did eventually give one word as an answer. “... Yeah.” He narrowed his eyes as he watched Leon close the bottle back up and sat it on a nearby dresser. “Something like that.”
Leon nodded before he reached out with his free hand to grab Chris by the collar of his shirt and pull him into his hotel room. Had he ever been fucked by a guy? No, but was that going to stop him now?
Hell no, it was not.
The strange dance of shoving his tongue in Chris’ mouth while also trying to shut and lock the hotel room door was probably not as coordinated as he would have liked but he was on a mission. Whatever reservations or concerns he had about not knowing what the fuck to do in the given situation went right out the window when he realized that Chris was really really good at kissing. Kissing was admittedly a thing Leon didn’t do often and here was Chris fucking Redfield of all people assuring him he’d been missing out on this option.
The motherfucker was overdressed.
It was a weird thing to deviate his fixation to, but he just had a towel that was being slid off from his waist and Chris still had on god knew what underneath a layer of clothes. Leon’s fingers made quick work of buttons, careful to not pop them open but quick enough that the material still stretched against his efforts to get the accursed item free. Slipping the silk off his shoulders revealed muscles he never realized he had a strong overwhelming urge to trace and maybe even memorize.
Before busy hands could make way to the buttons on his slacks, Chris maneuvered them both to the bed. “An unoccupied mouth is going to talk.” Leon let himself be eased back so that he was left leaning on his elbows and watched as Chris mouthed a path down his stomach.
“I bet,” was all the bastard said with a smile before continuing his worship.
Leon was set to keep watching the man work but when one has a godsend set of lips wrapped around their dick, it takes the wind out of your sails and all you can do is fall flat against the mattress. Chris didn’t miss a beat; he had no idea what Chris was doing at the opposite end of the bed aside from giving him one hell of a blow job but there were definite plastic ripping sounds and his leg was propping up over some really broad shoulders. Why think when every nerve in your dick was signing the Hallelujah choir song?
To his goddamned credit, he did not tense up when he felt fingers going near his ass. That? Was new. That also panned out to feel just as good, if not more so, than the blow job. In tandem? Fuck. There was never a chance to ask what the hell was going on or what Chris was doing because the answer always arrived in a series of gasps and moans on Leon’s part. He’s doing the Lord’s work , he answered silently, to himself, in lieu of asking the actual question. Chris Redfield could do whatever he wanted, no questions asked, The End.
“You okay?” There was a slight laugh from the asshole who stopped doing the Lord’s work between his legs.
“Not if you are just going to stop abruptly, you fucking asshole.” Leon barely picked up his head to acknowledge the sacrilegious moment. “This is how you get bad Yelp reviews.”
“God forbid?” Chris Redfield could laugh and that, too, took all the wind out of your sails. It slowed down time and smoothed all ruffled feathers. That, alone, should have been outlawed in fifty states and definitely illegal in Mongolia.
Leon had to sit up and pull that obnoxiously hypnotic mouth back against his own because, also god forbid, he actually enjoy himself or have some sappy moment of happiness just because some asshole smiled and laughed during sex. He didn’t question the slick wetness as he moved his legs to again accommodate Chris getting closer. He smirked against Chris’ mouth at the thought that the man showed up prepared for a potential fuck but he didn’t want to ruin the momentum to comment on it.
He certainly didn’t question the lack of pants on Chris’ body when he settled between his thighs and all but covered him on the bed. When those skilled fingers worked their way back inside him, he didn’t question that either. That was the least important thing to question. And here’s Father Redfield doing the Lord’s Work yet again, hallelujah.
“I’m fine,” he said in a rush of air when he realized Chris was moving away and he already knew what he was going to ask. “I’m really fucking fine.”
“Yeah, you are.” Chris’ level of sincerity was more scandalous than a crass pickup line or dirty sex talk in the bedroom and Leon didn’t know what to do with it.
Instead of scrambling for a witty comeback, he simply met Chris’ lips once again and adjusted his legs on Chris’ insistence. He would have complained about the removal of fingers but he realized fingers had been the appetizer all along. Instead of panicking about not being ready , he just relaxed and took a deep breath. He let his leg be picked up and cradled in the crook of Chris’ arm. He took a brief split second moment to pat himself figuratively on the back for being way more flexible than he realized he was and then he felt the main course being served.
Chris deserved a lot of awards for just about everything he did, specifically in that moment for being slow and steady with penetration. If he tensed up at all, the man backed down and slowed the pace. He kissed away any sounds that didn’t convey pure unadulterated pleasure and encouraged ones that sounded like he was a hair's breadth away from ecstacy. This was not the fast-paced roll in the hay he envisioned Chris would be providing, but it was a whole other level of holy shit .
When the pace did pick up slightly, it was welcome. Chris moved a little faster, grazed his teeth against Leon’s neck, and adjusted his position with every inch of space Leon surrendered. Sex was always just sex , something to take your mind off the numerous thoughts you kept running from. Even if he wanted to think about anything , there were no thoughts beyond more and fuck . The rush that usually came with an impending climax was different. With women it had been centralized, very focused. The whole body feeling of being tightly wound like a spring was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. All he could do was hang on and dig his nails into whatever skin was in reach when the figurative spring finally broke. The all over body tightening ensured Chris wasn’t too far behind and that was another feeling entirely.
“Holy shit.” It was mumbled between breaths. If someone had asked him what did it feel like to see God, and if Leon was drunk enough, he might have told them to try anal sex and find out.
Chris laughed against his ear before slowly rolling off of him to rummage around the room for his pants. “You ok, Kennedy?”
“I think at this point you can just call me Leon.” Leon ran a hand through his hair and wondered if Chris had fucked all the feeling out of his appendages because damn his body seemed stuck in the good kind of numb setting. “So literally in and out?”
“Need a cigarette,” Chris smirked. “I wasn’t planning on cutting and running that soon.”
“I spent $1,500.00 US dollars for this room.” Leon slowly forced himself to sit up and tilted his head in Chris’ direction. “Smoke the cigarette in here. There’s a goddamned balcony over there.”
Chris seemed very amused by the apparent balcony he hadn’t noticed before. “So there is,” he laughed. “Who knew all it took for me to, just once, not be observant of my surroundings after decades of necessity was you in a towel.” Instead of putting on the pants, he dug out his cigarettes and zippo and tossed them back on the floor.
Leon reached inside the nightstand and found a complementary and still wrapped ashtray. “It’s like they knew you’d be coming,” he said and then he huffed out a laugh. “Literally.”
Chris flipped the light switch off as he moved past it and opened the balcony’s glass door but didn’t go outside. “I have to admit,” he said, “I wasn’t entirely sure this was going to go this way.”
“I was expecting to get a free bottle of whiskey and maybe bullshit about life for a bit.” He watched Chris strike the flint on the zippo and put the flame up to the tip of his cigarette.
“You started it.” When Chris exhaled the smoke, Leon swore the patterns made shapes as they shifted away and into the shadows of the room. “Asking for strip shows.”
Leon leaned forward and took the cigarette out of Chris’ grasp and took a drag. “I did, didn’t I?” He watched as his own smoke did the same little dance until the shadows swallowed it from sight. “That was your fault for holding a meeting in your goddamned towel.”
“So we can blame the towels.”
Leon gave the cigarette back and shook his head. “If it wasn’t for the towels, I’d still be able to feel my legs. Damn the towels.” He got up off the bed, almost stumbling in the process, and retrieved his whiskey from the dresser before crawling back on it. “For the first time getting fucked by a guy, this was really wild.” Leon laughed when Chris, mid-inhale, started choking.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Never had an opportunity before.” He was still laughing but he had offered a few pats on Chris’ back. “Saving the world, all that shit, just never came up as a thing to do. Seriously though… you have time, I have time? We can schedule that shit.”
At first, he thought Chris was just staring at him . “How’s the hand?” Then he realized it was Chris being a boy scout again.
Leon switched hands holding the bottle so he could hold out the wounded one to him. “You did a good patch job on it,” he assured him and then took another drink.
With the cigarette propped between his lips, Chris held Leon’s hand a bit closer to give it a good look over before letting it go to flick the ashes into the ashtray. “I guess I didn’t hurt you if you’re wanting to pencil in more in and out missions.”
Leon’s brain, finally able to freely come up with a wide array of snarky comebacks, resisted the urge to say feel free to hurt me whenever, Daddy Redfield and settled on something more benign. “You’re sizable, Redfield, but it’s going to take more than that to break me.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” When the cigarette’s tip lit up Chris’ face as he inhaled, the smirk was its own challenge.
“It might be.” Leon let Chris take the bottle from him and watched as he tipped it back for his own drink. “So is that your kink? Challenges?”
“If life choices are any indicator of what a person’s kinks are,” Chris laughed, “it’s entirely possible.”
*
The first hints of sunlight could barely be seen through the still-open curtain that led onto the balcony. It wasn’t dawn’s first light that woke Leon; it was the sound of a cell phone ringing. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and was surprised to find it was not his own that made the offending sound. Sitting up was a bit of a struggle and he wished he’d remembered there was an empty bottle of whiskey somewhere on the floor before he’d attempted it.
As he grabbed at the side of his head, he watched the larger form at his side start shifting towards the opposite nightstand. Oh yeah, Father Redfield was performing miracles. He hadn’t left after Leon passed out and that? That was something new. In all his life, he’d never had someone, aside from a long gone ex-girlfriend before his life went upside down, that was still there after the sexcapades were over.
“Redfield.” Chris’ voice was even more gravely when half asleep. “Send it to HQ.”
There was a hand on the back of his neck as Chris continued to relay instructions of some kind and Leon couldn’t help but lean into it. Aside from missionary work, apparently Chris Redfield knew where hangover headache tension spots were and was very skilled at one handed massage techniques to alleviate those ailments. As Leon let his head fall forward a bit and Chris’ fingers worked in along tense muscles, he wondered absently what other tricks the asshole knew.
“Update me on the status,” Chris said to whoever was on the other end of his phone conversation. “I’ll check in at 0-500. Yeah, as in tomorrow.”
Leon looked over when he heard the beep that signaled the phone call was over. “Duty calls?”
“Tomorrow.” The bed shifted as Chris sat up and Leon couldn’t help but smile, then feel ridiculous for smiling, as Chris’ mouth pressed against his shoulder. “Today, unless DSO calls you back early, I figured we’d backtrack to all the shit we missed since we did things out of order.”
The bed shifted again as Leon turned to better face him. “Wait, you came to the door last night to ask me out on an actual date ?”
“Yeah.” Chris laughed. “Then you were in a towel.”
“And you forgot how to speak.”
Chris nodded. “Yeah.”
Leon ran his hand through his mess of blonde hair. “I fucked that up, didn’t I?” he laughed. “Yeah, sure. Fuck it, let’s shower and go get breakfast.”
“That was easier than I thought it would be.”
Leon reached over for his phone and looked at the time. “I’ve had three hours of sleep and there was a lot of sex last night so selling me food is not a big achievement right now.” He got up slowly and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re teaching me that hangover trick later.”
“Whatever you want.”
“...That’s a dangerous offer, Redfield.”