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Typically Leon didn’t trust anonymous tips, especially not ones delivered directly to his doorstep. It was more than likely a trap, but the enclosed files had too many damning details for him to let it go unchecked. If even a quarter of this was true it would certainly lead to something dire, and when that happened the guilt that’d weigh on Leon for not having done anything might crush him.
That guilt is what had him pulling into a small woodland clearing on his motorcycle. He was positioned up on a small cliff, below him a rather nondescript building. It was on the smaller side for what Leon was used to, but that wasn't a reason to write it off just yet. He circled around the area, searching for any other living person who might be guarding the perimeter, and finding none.
How odd.
Careful with where he placed his feet, Leon made his way down the cliff side, staying in the darker patches covered by the trees. Keeping a watchful eye on his six, he walked to the backdoor, which was unlocked. Unease crept its way up Leon’s spine. He opened the door slowly, gun drawn, and took in the space as if something was about to jump out from every inch.
It was empty, utterly devoid of anything signifying a human presence. Not even any furniture remained in the building, and yet Leon checked every room as though surely one of them had to have something like the documents described. Deep in the corridors he found it, a single computer, unplugged but still intact. After glancing over his shoulder he dives for it, plugging it back into the wall and waiting for it to power on.
It was then the door he’d entered through slammed shut, locking with a distinct click. Leon spun on his heels, panic only suppressed by years of being thrust into stressful situations like this. He didn’t make it halfway across the room before a loud hiss erupted from the vents. The chemicals invade his lungs, making them contract in a desperate bid for air. Coughing, and gasping Leon collapsed to the ground, his eyelids drooping as his vision faded to black.
Consciousness came back to him in gentle waves. As his brain started to boot up he jerked his limbs, testing where they were and how mobile. His hands were handcuffed behind him, metal digging into his wrists as he yanked against it. Thick rope kept his legs tied down to the metal chair he was seated in. As he leaned back he could feel the coolness of the metal directly seeping into his skin, shocking him to a more steady awareness.
He looked down to assess himself, noticing now that his shirt along with almost all holsters and belts had been removed, leaving him vulnerable, and bare. If luck was on his side he may still have the small pocket knife tucked away in his left boot, how he was going to fish it however he was having a difficult time puzzling out.
A door behind him clicks open, followed by a series of approaching footsteps.
“I suspected you’d be the sentimental type.” A voice Leon immediately clocks as Albert Wesker snarks, casually flipping Krauser’s knife in his hand. Leon lifts his head to stare him down, eyes following the knife cautiously.
Leon didn’t always bring Krauser’s knife on missions with him, a nagging fear that he’d somehow lose it keeping it tucked away safely in his gun safe. The only time he got the nerve was when he needed a bit of extra security, to watch Wesker hold that safety net so flippantly made his whole body tense.
“I’ll assume that is something else I can count on, alongside your need to play hero” Wesker smirked, tilting Leon’s head up to with the tip of the blade so he's forced to look up at him. “Find anything interesting in my laboratory backlot?”
So it had been a trap, how peachy. Leon's brow furrowed, a small amount of shame nagging at him for having been so easily fooled. “What the hell do you want?”
“Nothing you should be opposed to.” The knife is pulled away from his chin, and Wesker puts it back into the sheath at Leon's hip. He then lifts his boot, digging the heel in inbetween Leon's spread legs. “In fact this is rather familiar territory for you.”
Forcing back a wince, Leon contorts his face into a harsh glare. “I can’t imagine that I'd want anything involving you.”
A wide smirk breaks out onto Wesker's face, he digs his heel in harder. “Well then you're in luck.”
He steps away, walking around Leon back to the door he entered from. “Perhaps you will find our other guest more appealing.”
Straining to turn around in his binds, Leon watches as Wesker steps out. There's a beat of silence followed by the rattling of a chain, Leon stares down the door, nerves making his muscles ache.
Just who, or more likely what, was Wesker going to bring out to devour him.
The door clicks back open, Wesker enters first, a chain attached to his hip pulling along behind him- “Jack?”
Jack Krauser, crawling on all fours. His eyes glued to the floor, sparing Leon only a single ashamed glance. He was nude in every way that mattered, only wearing a pair of lacy white thigh highs clipped to an equally delicate garter belt hugging his waist, alongside a matching set of elbow length gloves. From his right ear dangled a single gold wrapped pearl. A dainty little thing that should be in stark contrast to everything Leon knew about his nature, but with how Jack was almost hiding, cowering, behind Wesker’s legs its placement seemed apt.
The only article he wore that wasn’t a saintly white was his smoky black leather collar, tethering him to Wesker’s hip by a short length of chain.
“Pretty isn't he?” Wesker tugs on the chain, bidding Jack to crawl forward to sit in front of him. “Obviously I have my own reasons for keeping him but I don't see why I must be the only benefactor of his submission.”
A combination of shock and blood retreating southward led to Leon struggling to process all that was happening before him. He stared at Jack, bewildered and almost relieved that again he was shown to be alive post-mortem. “But you should be- I thought I-?”
“Yes, Kennedy, you did an excellent job splitting his heart in two.” Wesker runs his fingers through Jack's hair, petting him and instinctively he leans his whole body into the touch. “Fortunately I was there to mend it back together.”
Leon pressed his mouth into a thin line, the knife on his hip feeling as though it was twenty pounds heavier. He didn't want to do it, hell if Jack hadn't asked him to he probably wouldn't have been able to muster the strength. Guilt simmered in Leon's stomach, he takes in an unsteady breath to say as much when Wesker continues speaking.
“Go on then, pup, show him what else I’ve fixed in you.” Wesker unhooks the leash from Jack’s collar, and the man goes stiff as a board. He side eyes Leon, giving him an unsubtle onceover. For that split second the Major is back, face hardening as he assesses the situation for any immediate danger. But then he’s gone just as fast, expression melting back to a placid emptiness.
Head hung low, he slowly crawls towards Leon. Once he’s bridged the gap he rests his head on his inner thigh, only then daring to look up at him but still not quite meeting his eyes. Jack's lips twitch, red blush blossoming across the tips of his ears down to cheeks. He flicks his gaze over to Wesker, who has propped himself up on the back of Leon's chair, staring silently, expectant.
Shame ran hot through Jack's veins, at least he'll call it that even as he tries to subtly rub his thighs together for an ounce of friction. He leans forward, undoing the button of Leon’s jeans with his teeth, hands staying firmly planted in his lap.
Leon sputtered out a strained set of sounds, squirming as Jack moved to undo his fly. “What're you doing?”
Wesker’s hands grip Leon’s shoulders, sliding down to lazily rest on his upper chest in a faux soothing gesture. “Don’t worry, Kennedy, I can assure you he no longer bites.”
The neurons in Leon’s head were starting to fizzle out. Looking down at his old Major, known for being a hardass who took nothing from nobody, now down on his knees and mouthing at his twitching cock through the fabric of his boxers. This was surreal, if he was still knocked out and this was all some weird dream he silently hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon.
A steady dribble of precum had started to leak from Leon's dick, so Jack moved to pull down the waistband of his boxers, the cotton feeling unpleasant between his teeth. Leon twitched as the room's cool air hit his throbbing cock, but luckily Jack was quick to envelope it in the warm wet heat of his mouth.
“Fuck-” Leon let out a strained noise, biting his lip till the skin broke to keep down another moan that wanted to climb up his throat.
It'd been way too long.
Even longer still since he'd been with Jack. Short and needy hookups in the quiet dark corners of base, usually just hands down pants to get any semblance of closeness. A stark contrast to the current slow methodical bobs of Jack's head, worshiping every inch of his cock with his tongue.
To the side of Leon's head, Wesker snaps his fingers a few times. “Eyes up here, slut.”
A startled gag is pulled from Jack, and begrudgingly he tilts his head to look up at them. The sharp edges of his glare melted and smoothed down over a fine heat of shame. Choking back a series of moans, Leon could only stare back, gaze flicking between those eyes and his cock slipping past Jack's bruised lips.
“How's his performance, Kennedy? Doesn't seem like he's pleasuring you much at all.” Wesker tuts, the disappointment in his voice sending a shiver down Jack's spine.
Fear, raw and outright shone in Jack's baby blues as he silently pleaded up at Leon, making sure to even take his cock into his throat and swallow for emphasis.
Leon had never seen that look on Jack before, and the sight unsettled him. Hastily he tried to correct Wesker, a few panicked illegible sounds tumbling out of his mouth before he was able to form the words. “He's doing good-so good!”
That good hitting Jack's ears was like the bell for Palov's dog, just that small praise making him melt. The next few bobs of his head were sloppy, noisy with spit and whines. His knees spread apart and his hips stuttered against the cold open air.
The unease that had been mounting in Leon left him in a steady dribble of salty precum down Jack's throat. His gaze was locked onto the display before him, taking in every inch of how pretty Jack looked. His hair was longer now, enough so that one could get a decent fistful to properly use his throat.
“So-so good,” Leon stuttered, his hand jerking against his restraints to try and touch, to comfort, and he almost whined when he was held back. Verbal encouragement would have to do. “Just like that.”
Wesker let out a hum of approval, watching their shared desperate depravity with an amused tilt to his lips. He allowed them to play on for a few minutes more before snapping his fingers.
“Off.” The command from Wesker was curt, and Jack let out a disapproving whine even as he obeyed, sliding off Leon's cock with an audible suck. Drool and precum coated his chin, a mess that he made no motion to clean, and his bottom lip was swollen making it stick out in a constant pout.
“Good pup.” Wesker hummed. His leather clad hands sliding down Leon's chest all the way down to his leaking cock. He grips the base, watching as it gives an involuntary twitch. “What a fine specimen you are, Kennedy. No wonder Jack has missed you so.”
Leon grunts, indignation twisting his expression into a grimace as he strains to turn to glare at Wesker. Though the next words out of the other man's mouth make his jaw go slack.
“Would you like to fuck him?” At Leon's startled expression Wesker elaborates. “His cunt is off limits but his ass has already been prepped for you.”
If it weren't for the fact his mouth had gone dry Leon would've choked on his own spit. Everything in Leon was telling him that he shouldn't say yes, that he should end this encounter and just go back to his empty apartment. Something about this felt wrong, but as he looks down at Jack he sees nothing less than rabid hunger, and with that his will cracks just that much more.
“Yes.” Leon chokes out, and when Wesker only silently tilts his head in response he whines out a small, “Please.”
“Good boy.” The smirk that broke out on Wesker's face made Leon's stomach churn, but the feeling quickly passed as a warm weight pressed into his lap. Wesker then released his face and Leon almost gave himself whiplash turning to face Jack as he situated himself atop him.
With him this close Leon couldn't help but ogle at his form. Jack's muscles were not nearly as defined as when he'd last seen him, hard lines softened down like a river worn stone. His stomach in particular looked very different, gone where the rippling abs and in their place was a small rounded bump. Before Leon could process that fully, a tight velvet heat enveloped his aching cock, and his eyes screwed shut as a hot pulse of pleasure shot through his body.
Above him Jack whimpered, gently rocking back and forth in Leon's lap as he adjusted to the stretch, rutting his clit against hip pubic bone. He leaned forward, smothering Leon's face in his tits as he did so, and planted his hands on the back of the metal chair for leverage as he began to bounce slow and steady up and down Leon's cock.
Leon's subsequent moan was muffled into Jack's chest, and as he opened his eyes he was met with the sight of a well faded scar. The scar he'd given to him. Without much thought Leon presses his lips against the mark, as if he could soften the rough skin with the silent apology. Jack keened at the sensation, hips quickening just slightly, and soon Leon's mouth went from reverent kisses to ginger nips as the tender flesh of one of Jack's breasts grazed his teeth.
“Careful.” A sharp pain radiated from the back of Leon's head as Weaker pulled him back by a fistful of hair. “Don't leave any marks.” His tone was soft, almost goading.
Brow furrowed, Leon left one more bite, hard enough that it'd stain the skin a sickly yellow the following day. Act of defiance made clear, he shifts to mouth one of Jack's dark and puffy nipples instead. The moment his tongue flicked the hardened bud Jack let out an abrupt moan, his movements stilling as his grip on the chair faltered.
Not that he'd ever gotten the chance to really touch them before, but Leon didn't remember Jack's chest being so sensitive. Only encouraged by the prospect Leon continues with what little stimulation his mouth can bring, gentle sucks and incessant open mouthed kisses. Once he stopped tasting Jack and only his own spit he'd switch to the other nipple. Reveling in how in a steep crescendo Jack only got louder, his bounces on Leon's cock sloppier as he unraveled.
“Stop.” Jack stuttered out weakly, his voice raspy from ill-use. He presses a palm to Leon's forehead gently trying to nudge him off as he squirms in lap. “I can't, not yet.”
Confusion pinches at Leon's features, and behind him Wesker snickers.
“He's gotten awfully sensitive since the fourth week.” Wesker tuts. He steps around the chair to stand behind Jack instead, gently pulling him to lean his upper body weight against his chest. Wesker's hands then cup his breasts, squishing them together as if presenting them to Leon, who's hips jerked at the display. Jack presses his chest forward into the touch, arching his back as he tries to push down the desire to cum.
Through the thick fog of pleasure Leon slowly starts to connect some dots. Everything clicking into place once Wesker's hands release Jack's tits and slide down to almost lovingly pet his bulging stomach.
“He's-” Leon almost addresses Wesker, but quickly looks at Jack before continuing. Almost losing the words before they quickly spill past his teeth, sounding nearly in disbelief at what he's saying. “Are you pregnant?”
Jack's face burns a bright red, and he turns to hide his shame in Wesker's own chest. As if he were a kicked dog, Wesker is quick to pet his poor head, looking down at him with the upmost pity as he answers in his stead. “A magnificent thing isn't it, it took practically no time at all for my seed to take.”
Something stirs deep within Leon, an urge to protect that he’s long tried to bury and is incredibly annoyed by its presence now. Although he just couldn't seem to pull himself away from the listless look in Jack's eyes, something was up and he didn't know if he could just walk away from him.
Even though Leon can't see his eyes he can feel Wesker's gaze flick to him then, watching him carefully to gauge his response without even letting him speak.
“He's become almost insatiable too, though I suppose that's how I trained him to be.” Wesker purrs, his hand Jack's gripping chin and tilting his head to look Leon in the face. “You know, if you came to work for me you could have this whenever you wanted.”
Jack's face was painted with pure bliss, his eyes unfocused and blush blooming down to his chest. Offering Leon the chance to see such a sight at his whim was almost cruel.
Leon shakes his head, even as he feels his balls begin to tighten. Jack hadn't let up on his cock in the slightest, if anything he only got tighter and faster at the mention of Leon staying.
“Your employers could never provide something this good, a warm body to hold, a tight wet hole to fuck.” Wesker's voice quiets to a hiss of a whisper, “Someone to come home to.”
“No,” Leon averts his gaze from Jack's teary-eyed face, “S'not right, I can't.”
“You can and you will. Go on mutt, make your mark on him and cum.”
Those words made Leon shudder. Shame at how aroused he was at just the mere thought of having Jack clashing against the animalistic urge to buck his hips into his tight heat and make that final claim. Eventually that small, needy animal won, and Leon's vision went white as he came with a strangled cry.
For a few ticks the only sounds that filled the room were harsh pants, and small whines. That quiet stillness was broken as Wesker tucked his hands under Jack's knees, tucking his legs up to his chest before easily lifting him off Leon's now limp cock. Immediately thick cum began to leak from Jack's gaping hole, drooling down into Leon's lap and staining his jeans. Wesker suspends him there till the steady drool of cum peters off to a slow drip.
“My my,” Wesker's smirk was wide enough to flash a hint of teeth, “Weren't you a pent up boy? That shouldn't be a problem for you anymore, I assure you.”
Carefully Wesker lowers Jack down to the floor. He takes off a single glove before cupping his cheek, holding him in place as he bends down to plant a kiss to his temple. He then whispers something in his ear too soft for Leon to hear, but the way Jack presses his thighs together at the words make it seem like something good.
“And as for you.” Wesker says, louder now as he stands up straight, reaching into his pocket to pull out a vial and monogrammed handkerchief. “Let's get you ready to take back home with us.”
Giving Leon no time to formulate a response, Wesker soaks the rag and with a tender firmness presses it to his face. Leon jerks, trying to toss his head side to side to avoid inhaling the fumes but it was no use. Soon enough he feels darkness start to overtake his vision. The last thing he sees before he slips being the shiny white reflection off Jack's pearl earring.