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Cheating on Katjaa never was on Kenny’s bingo card for the New Year.
Upon reconsideration, neither was the literal fucking apocalypse. Or smashing some guy’s head in with a fucking salt lick.
Thank God for that free space, huh?
Kenny didn’t know what to think of Lee the first time he laid eyes on him, hanging around with a young girl who (apparently) wasn’t even his. He had a dark aura about him, with shifty eyes and a guarded posture. Clementine seemed happy enough around him, but children aren’t always the best judge of character. Kenny didn’t think it was uncalled for him to be at least a bit suspicious of the other man.
But then he saved Duck from the Walkers that had broken through Hershel’s fence without a second thought (God rest Shawn’s soul). Then he defended his family from accusations of a bite from one of those monsters. And the good shit... just kept coming. They had their differences here and there, but ultimately, Lee proved himself a competent provider, a wonderful caretaker for Clementine, and a damn good friend.
An even better lay.
It’s not that Kenny didn’t love Katjaa anymore. He did. Does, God dammit, but Lee... well, a man’s got fuckin’ needs. Different needs. Something Katjaa can’t give him.
So, they’ve had this little arrangement since about a month after they officially holed up at the motel. Unbeknownst to anyone else, naturally, lest the wrong words get spread to the right people. They don’t kiss. There’s no aftercare, no cuddling, no sweet words. Just a simple transaction of pleasure meant to keep both of them sated and sane until the next time. Not a single feeling other than pure lust, in the moment.
Or so Kenny thought.
He first sees it out of the corner of his eye. Just a shadowed pair of figures in his peripheral, huddled close. He’s trying to smooth things over with Katjaa; he really shouldn’t be paying any attention to anyone but her right now. But, as her concerns turn into baseless accusations, his focus drifts.
Lee and Carley, standing awfully close together. They’re talking about something, both smiling. Seems innocent, right up until Carley leans up to plant a small kiss on Lee’s cheek. Hell, even that is innocent. Just a little peck, Kenny rationalizes. Or tries to. Something hot and ugly pools in his gut. He knows and recognizes it as jealousy, for some shit-stupid reason. He doesn’t have a claim on Lee and vice versa. He’s having an argument with his wife right now, for fuck’s sake.
Regardless, the feeling settles and makes itself at home right in the pit of Kenny’s stomach. Lee turns to leave the balcony the same moment Kenny tunes back into Katjaa’s quiet rant. They’ve been over this song and dance a few times already since St. John’s.
“You’ve just been so different since then... if you would tell me what happened...”
“It’s better if you don’t know the full details, alright?” Done with the argument, Kenny slaps his hands on his knees and stands up. “I’m gonna, uh. I’m gonna go find some things to work on the RV.”
An obvious cop-out, one Katjaa isn’t too keen on letting go, one that Kenny has been using a lot lately. It’s convenient. Hell, most of the time he actually has plenty of work to do one said RV. It’s not far from being drivable again; they’re one step closer to getting the hell away from this motel, away from Lilly’s goddamn controlling bullshit rules. One step closer to safety for his family, for Duck and Katjaa (and Lee and Clementine, even though Lee hasn’t given him a straight answer about leaving for the coast).
The RV is just that, though. An excuse. He’s hit a dead end for now; extra repairs are going to have to wait until their next supply run. He has a single-minded focus right now. The pull he feels toward Lee is dangerous and exhilarating all in one; how could he possibly blame Carley for getting swept up in the current when even Kenny (married, father, family man Kenny) can’t resist?
Finally, he manages to corner Lee away from the rest of their rag-tag group of survivors.
“Kenny,” Lee remarks. There’s a hint of surprise in his voice, like he’s not expecting Kenny’s sudden presence. Or, rather, the intensity in his movements and gaze comes as a shock to him.
Lee isn’t allowed to get another word out as Kenny starts forcing him toward one of the unoccupied, unused rooms. The air is slightly musty, a thick layer of dust coating every bit of furniture in the room. The lock on the door is broken (something Kenny is willing to overlook) but the curtains are damn near blackout and already drawn. Unless someone watched them pile in here- unlikely- they won’t raise suspicion.
“The hell is this?” Lee queries, a bemused expression on his face.
“The hell is this ? The hell was that ?”
This is already going South, but Kenny’s heart is pounding with adrenaline, anger, and (frankly) desire. The pure, unadulterated want he feels for this man is dizzying in its severity. It overwhelms, until Kenny isn’t sure where he ends, and this beast of lust begins. Lee must feel at least a fraction of the same way, because confusion drops off and morphs into heat, blazing and all-consuming in its wildfire raze.
A smirk (confident, cocky) unexpectedly creeps across Lee’s plump lips. He’s too knowing for his own damn good.
“Jealous, Ken?”
Oh, and Kenny bristles .
He knew what he’d been doing the whole time (did he?).
Trying to get a rise out of him.
He won’t be letting that effort go to waste.
With rough hands and near-malice, Kenny shoves Lee backwards until the backs of his knees hit the disheveled and smudged duvet of a stiff motel mattress. The springs squeal in protest as the full weight of a grown man falls onto them. Lee’s large hands reach for his own belt, fingers slipping around the buckle, when Kenny forces his arms back down to the bed.
“I don’t fuckin’ think so. Palms up, bastard.”
Lee acquiesces without much of a fight. A pink tongue creeps out to wet chapped lips, drawing Kenny’s attention to them. In that moment, he wants nothing more than to claim those lips for his own. Make Lee forget anything and everything but him .
That’s not part of their bargain, though.
Instead of giving in to the urge, of taking this little thing they’ve got going too far, Kenny drops his hands to his own belt buckle. The worn, frayed leather slides through the denim loops with a soft noise. In front of him, supine on the mattress, Lee shifts in anticipation. His soft, dark eyes hone in on the twitch of Kenny’s calloused fingers.
“Ought to use this on you, ya fuckin’ brat,” Kenny threatens, brandishing the belt half-heartedly. “I’ve got better plans for your hands.”
He drops his jeans and underwear in one go. Steps out of his boots, too, if only to test the limits of Lee’s patience. There’s a visible tent in the other man’s pants. Fuck, Kenny can’t remember the last time someone made him feel this way.
He kicks his pants away to some other corner of the dingy motel room. Sinewy muscle clenches and unclenches with the motion, pale thighs bracing and tensing. There’s more color on his legs below the tops of his knees, a stark tan-line from his time in Florida. The tan abruptly ends mid-calf, blindingly white skin once again taking over. The motif of a fashion-inept, socks-and-shorts-wearing Floridian father.
Ultimately, Kenny’s patience runs out far before Lee’s. He nearly pounces on the man before him, strong thighs straddling narrow hips. Lee grips the milky flesh now bared to him, fingers squeezing the bit of fat still clinging stubbornly to Kenny’s hips, threat of starvation be damned. Kenny throbs in anticipation as he inches up Lee’s body until his soft, hot cunt hovers above his chest.
Lee supports him by gripping his waist, eyes slowly trailing from the slick-moistened lips all the way up to Kenny’s impatient face.
“Get to it,” Kenny orders breathlessly.
Ever the tease, Lee brushes his knuckles against Kenny’s sensitive skin, fingertips just barely dancing along the crease of vulva and thigh. Kenny shudders above him, planting a strong palm above Lee’s pelvis for stability. His chest heaves with a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, gently rocking his hips until Lee finally gets the fucking picture.
He plunges an index finger into Kenny’s positively sopping entrance, thumb beginning to work his clit in slow circles. Kenny releases a shuddering breath, using his free hand to spread himself apart. Lee bites his bottom lip, groaning at the sight. He tries to thrust his own hips up, get Kenny to pay him some attention, but the hand splayed on his abdomen keeps his hips firmly planted in one spot. Frustration begins to build, and he starts fingering Kenny in earnest. One finger becomes two becomes three. The angle is a little awkward, but they find a jilted sort of rhythm in the sway of Kenny’s hips and the pump of Lee’s wrist.
Soft grunts turn into long, drawn out moans.
“Fuck,” Kenny pants. A spike of pleasure shoots up his spine when Lee’s thumb starts really massaging into his clit. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Just like that.”
“Yeah? Good?” Lee cranes his head as far back as he can to watch Kenny come undone above him. He speeds up the thrusting of his wrist, grinning when Kenny nearly shouts his pleasure for the entire motel to hear.
“Fuckin’ perfect. It’s fuckin’ perfect.” You’re perfect threatens to spill out over his lips, but he’s not that far gone yet.
Lee curls his fingers just right and suddenly Kenny’s walls are clamping down on his digits, milking them like they would a cock. Kenny holds his breath for the orgasm, only sucking in precious oxygen when his lungs scream in protest.
It was good, but not enough. Nothing is ever enough when it comes to Lee. Kenny is a selfish man, he will admit, but he is never more selfish than when he has his closest confidant between his slick, trembling thighs.
Bonelessly, yet careful enough to not knock Lee unconscious with a wayward leg, Kenny throws himself against the headboard. He plants his feet on the mattress and spreads his legs, silently beckoning Lee to crawl in between them.
He doesn’t need the time to think about it, rolling onto his stomach and inching forward until his mouth hovers over Kenny’s heat. Trapped behind layers of cloth, Lee’s own erection protests. As much as he’d love to bury himself balls deep in this unlikely lover of his, the thought of eating Kenny out until he can hardly speak, let alone think, is too good of an opportunity to pass up.
“Well?” Kenny huffs. He taps an impatient finger on the back of Lee’s head, very nearly threatening to smother the man in his cunt if he doesn’t get what he wants.
Lee doesn’t need to be told twice.
His tongue delves in, lapping at the abundant wetness. All for him. Kenny’s muscles twitch; still a little sensitive. Lee would love to overstimulate the man until he’s nothing but a quivering mess, but the idea of being able to cum is more appealing to him in the moment.
Wrapping his strong forearms around Kenny’s thighs, he yanks the other man closer to his mouth. His ears perk up at the little gasp, and he grins against Kenny’s folds. Gently, almost innocently, he noses against Kenny’s clit, reveling in the soft moan it earns him.
“Don’t tease,” Kenny orders weakly. He thrusts his hips even closer to Lee’s face, all but forcing him to take action.
Lee isn’t a cruel man, so he finally indulges Kenny. He begins eagerly lapping at his pussy, ramming his nose into his clit at the same time. Kenny’s quiet gasps quickly ramp up into punched-out grunts and moans. The fingers that once tapped the back of his head run through his short-cropped hair, tangling themselves in the tight curls.
Lee softly nibbles on Kenny’s clit, just enough for him to feel the hint of teeth, and suddenly those once-tender fingers hold on for dear life. He ramps it up another notch, sliding two fingers into Kenny’s wet hole as he seals his lips around his clit and sucks .
Kenny’s thighs tense, and his free hand comes to cover his mouth. If they were anywhere else, Lee would yank his hands away, then make him scream louder for daring to hide his sounds of ecstasy. As it is, though, keeping the noise level to a minimum is probably ideal given the circumstances.
He continues his ministrations, curling his fingers against Kenny’s supple, rippling walls the same time he suckles his clit.
“I’m- fuck, fuck, oh shit. Lee, I’m- fuck !”
Suddenly, Kenny is cumming, once again clamping down on Lee’s trapped digits. A surge of wetness pours out over his wrist, soaking the filthy blanket underneath them. Even through the cloud of euphoria, Kenny has half a mind to be embarrassed. He would clamp his thighs together if it didn’t mean he’d be trapping Lee down there.
“Shit,” he pants, chest heaving and legs trembling. “Sorry. I didn’t expect that.”
“That,” Lee groans, “was hot as hell.”
Kenny snorts out a laugh. He’s sure as shit glad that neither of them has to brave a wet spot. Not a bad idea to continue encounters such as these in the abandoned rooms, he supposes.
“You mind if I-?” Lee’s unsure fingers hover over his belt; the bulge in his pants looks incredibly uncomfortable.
The small, quiet, sadistic side of Kenny wants to tell him no, that he missed his opportunity. He’s drained, though, and it isn’t fair to deny Lee the right after the mind-blowing pleasure Kenny has just been subjected to.
“Nah, go ahead. You want a hand, or...?”
“Be quicker if I just do it. Next time, though.”
Kenny’s stomach flutters a bit, at that. Guilt pangs at him, as well, but it’s easily drowned out in his post-orgasmic haze. He can beat himself up over his failing marriage later tonight when he has to look his wife in the eyes, knowing he was caught up doing this instead of whatever the hell he said he was doing.
The slick sound of Lee swiftly jerking himself off brings him back to the present. Kenny’s about to reach around to grab him a tissue (technically a pillowcase, because there aren’t any tissues in here, but semantics) when he feels warm ropes of cum land on his thighs and lower abdomen.
“You dick,” Kenny mutters.
Lee chuckles, clearly amused with himself, and tucks himself back in his pants almost as quickly as he pulled himself out.
This is the part where they separate, take some time to exit apart from one another, and then act like nothing happened. That’s what they do. That’s what they’re supposed to do. Though, something seems to be holding Lee back.
Kenny’s just finished wiping himself clean and, at a loss for what to do (there’s no post-apocalyptic room service, as far as he’s aware of), tosses the soiled pillowcase into a dark corner. He’s not about to go out and wash that shit, lest he need to explain himself to someone.
He tugs his jeans up around his hips, doing up the button-fly slowly. “You good there, Lee?”
That seems to snap him back to reality.
“Huh? Y-yeah. I... I, uh, need to tell you something, though. Since we have a minute.”
Kenny’s heart starts to pound.
This is it.
This is the culmination of it all.
The jealousy.
The lust.
The longing .
“What’s that?”
Lee hesitates, like he’s trying to find the words. Hope and fear war for dominance in Kenny’s mind and soul. What if this is Lee telling him he wants to stop this thing? That he’d like to try something out with Carley? What if this is the end?
“I... Y’know, I didn’t think it would be this hard.” Lee chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t judge.”
Lee breathes out a sigh, clearly comforted by the words. The vulnerable expression disappears nearly as soon as it arrives, though. Fuck, this really is the end, then, huh?
“Before... all this,” Lee gestures to the air around them, “the whole, uh... dead men walking thing. I was... on my way to prison.”
Kenny frowns. This isn’t where he thought this was going.
“It wasn’t for touching kids, was it?”
Lee’s eyes widen, and he begins reeling. “What?! No! God, no! Jesus Christ, man. It was for murder. I found a man sleeping with my wife and... well, and I killed him.”
“That’s, uh... that’s it?”
Lee frowns, visibly confused. “What do you mean that’s it?”
“I dropped a 50-pound salt block on a guy’s head. It doesn’t really matter who we were .”
“I- okay. Alright.”
“I mean, I appreciate you tellin’ me, and all. Clementine is safe around you, right? And Duck?” Kenny questions.
“Of course. I would off myself before I did anything to them,” Lee assures him. Kenny nods.
They stand across from each other, somewhat awkwardly.
“So, is that... all you wanted to tell me?” Kenny tries real hard to keep the question emotionless. Doesn’t need to scare Lee off, after all.
“Yeah, I think so. It’s nice to get it off my chest, anyway.”
“Yeah. I’ll bet it is.” Another tense silence. “I’ll see you later, then? When it’s time to trade watch?”
Lee nods. “’Course. I’ll go ahead and leave first. Lilly wants to talk to me before the end of the day.”
The mention of her leaves a sour taste in the back of Kenny’s mouth, but he doesn’t show it. He nods tersely, adjusting his hat. Lee makes his exit, and Kenny hangs back for a little while.
He’s not sure how to feel about the distinct lack of confession.
He hates that he even finds himself conflicted about it.