aureatescars

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There is a hint of sorrow around the smile Sasha gives Leon in turn, but he bites back the self- deprecating comment that sits on the tip of his tongue. I used to be. He still thinks quietly to himself as he turns back around in order to not give Leon enough time to decipher the emotion he's sure to be present on his face. Leon has developed quite a way of reading him these days, or maybe Sasha has become less guarded, either way, he doesn't want this to devolve into an argument, so he simply takes the compliment. He isn't sure that after everything he's done he could still call himself that, but hearing Leon say so has him think that maybe, despite never being able to amend the wrongs he did, he can still do better than before.

It's not long until dinner is ready after that and the genuine excitement in Leon's expression and tone when he comes to check up on the food has Sasha's pensive mood from before dissolve into something more mellow, almost content. Smiling suits him Sasha thinks, not for the first time, as he looks up at Leon. Then, because he cannot help it, he nudges Leon in the side again when he, once again, manages to stand right infront of the cabinet Sasha needs to open.

"She did," Sasha says as he pulls out a bowl. "I'm not half the cook she is, but you'll have to make do." There is no bitterness there, but his tone is a little wistful now that his thoughts stray back to simpler times. He pauses in his actions of filling the food from the steaming pot into the bowl. "I haven't talked to her since Irina's death." He says quietly, not really meaning to, but he's taken aback by the realization that the words fall from his lips unbidden. He wonders if she is doing well, and then, within the same breath, he wonders if she thinks he died in the war.

The wave of guilt hits him hard as he stares down at the pot of steaming stew, taking in the familiar smell, nostalgia mingles with regret. If he reached out to her now would she even want to speak to him? Would she recognize the man he'd become?

Would she forgive him?

The touch of a hand to his shoulder has him startle from his thoughts and he looks up at Leon, his own hands still frozen mid-action. "Sorry." His voice cracks on the word. He clears his throat, then attempts to get back to the task at hand without spilling food everywhere. "Just getting lost in my own head." Again.

Sasha focuses on getting the food ready. Even with Leon no longer there to distract him, it's a bit of a struggle to remember everything it takes to prepare the dish. His mind strays to go through the events of the day again, gets caught on the way Leon looked after what happened at the lake, what he shared with him in light of it. He wonders just how much Leon has endured and simultaneously isn't sure if he really wants to know. It isn't fair for one person to face so many horrors, but with everything he's learned about him, Sasha wouldn't be surprised if Leon thought it was necessary for him to face the darkness so others could get out of it. It's what he's done for him. It's what he's still doing now.

The telltale scent of something burning startles him from his thoughts and he curses quietly as he turns down the heat and proceeds to do damage control. Thankfully, it's only a few onions that fell victim to Sasha's negligence and soon enough the only thing left to do is leave the pot to simmer.

Sasha uses the time to clean up a bit and eventually turns to pull a small knife from a drawer to begin cutting up a few pieces of fruit they acquired earlier. He doesn't really realize what he's doing until he's halfway through cutting up an apple and he blinks down at the plate. It bears a striking resemblance to the fruit platters his mother would make for him when he was still living at home, when whatever meal she was in the middle of cooking was still at least half an hour from being done.

It's then that Leon speaks up from behind him and Sasha sets the knife aside to turn around and face him. His expression turns from surprise to a mild smile and he takes the plate to set it in his lap and wheel himself over to Leon. Not allowing himself to second guess his own actions. "You're not great at sitting still and waiting, are you?" Sasha says and watches Leon struggle to fight down a pout. It's endearing.

"There is no rush." Sasha says then. "Here, you can set the table after you're done with this." He holds out the plate with the small selection of fruit for Leon to take. Sasha also added a few of the cut vegetables Leon was so adamant about stealing earlier.

The way Leon's eyes become round and wide when he's taken aback, make him look so much younger than what Sasha is used to. He's only just beginning to see this side of Leon more often. His expressions become more open, his moods easier to read. If Sasha didn't know better he'd almost say that the Leon he first met was an entirely different person. But then again, maybe he was. Sasha definitely isn't the same man from a few months ago anymore either, and a lot of it is thanks to Leon.

Maybe even all of it.

"Won't be long now." He reassures Leon, already on his way back to the kitchen to make sure everything is in order.

[aureatescars]

Sasha turns his face more firmly into the pillow, unhappy with the early morning light stinging in his eyes no matter how much he enjoys taking in Leon's form, even from across the room. How very rude that his lover left him behind before he was aware enough of his surroundings to keep him from climbing out of bed in the first place. Sasha huffs out a breath against the soft fabric of the pillowcase at Leon's question, now peeking at him over the top of the pillow while hugging it closer to his chest, already half set in his decision to go back to sleep.

"Lonely." He says pointedly in answer, his voice little more than a low rasp and muffled against the fabric. He clears his throat and reaches out to pat the space beside him in silent invitation. He is aware it's not what Leon was referring to, but Sasha's never been much of a conversationalist in the morning. For all that's changed in his life, for whoever much he has changed, this at least, has been a constant.

Of course the man he'd decide to take for a lover would then turn out to be a morning person. "Come here." He grumbles, but the smile tugging at his lips reaches his eyes and softens the harshness of his tone when Leon begins to slowly saunter back over. Sasha thinks he must be doing this deliberately, must be adding some flair to the way he walks just to tease him, or maybe Sasha has underestimated just how much Leon's way of moving affects him.

There is something to the way he looks at him now, too. The brightness of his eyes that much more stark when his features aren't pulled into a scowl but rather still soft with the remnants of sleep. Sasha turns unto his back and reaches for him when Leon comes to a halt next to the bed.

It's then that he is forced to take proper stock of how he is feeling. His lower body gives a few rather unpleasant twinges of pain as he moves to adjust the way he is lying there. Muscles work to find a more comfortable position, but that only reminds him of the tenderness he was left with after their... nightly activities when he shifts his legs a little further apart. It does have him wince at first, but frankly despite an almost pleasant soreness and bit of a weakness in his legs he doesn't feel particularly weak nor does he severely ache anywhere either, not even in the way he is used to after dealing with an injury such as his own for years.

Thus, when Leon at last leans over him, now with a shadow of concern darkening his expression in light of Sasha's reaction, Sasha doesn't waste any time pulling him down to the bed, feeling nothing but satisfaction when Leon's weight settles atop of him. Sasha even manages a low chuckle when Leon struggles against his hold before eventually settling between Sasha's legs and propping himself up on his elbows on either side of Sasha's head.

Sasha's hands sneak beneath the fabric of the bathrobe and alight on Leon's hips. He strains his neck a bit to rub their noses together. "I feel fine." He says quietly, lovingly, as he sinks back down, tone of voice more suited for their proximity. "A little sore, but I think that is to be expected after ... well."

It hasn't quite occured to him again just yet that the lack of pain and weakness he feels may be reason for concern in of itself, but right now he is still too caught up in the moment and captivated by the way Leon's expression has yet to become hard to decipher to care about any other implications.

He reaches up to brush a few loose strands of Leon's bangs behind an ear, smiling up at him. "How about you?" His hand moves down the side of Leon's face, and then he slightly tips his chin up, thumb brushing against the faint stubble along his jawline. "Any regrets?"

Insatiable... Yes, he supposes he has to admit that to be true by now.

"Never used to be." He mumbles into Leon's hair as the dazed state of his mind slowly makes way for drowsiness. He never considered himself to have a particularly high libido, even as a teenager he hadn't been this bad, nor overly curious to find out just where exactly his limits were. Maybe it's why he's so eager for it now, making up for lost time and all that... Although, as Leon brushes soothing kisses to his aching shoulder, he can't help but feel like it has nothing to do with curiosity or lost time, aside from the three years inbetween the civil war and watching Leon walk into his office.

It takes Leon nudging him in the side and repeating his question for Sasha to dip back to full awareness, having almost nodded off between exhaustion from the day and the bliss following the most intense orgasm he ever experienced.

He makes a small noise of agreement, although it's little more than a hum. Leon's right to suggest it, they could both do with a shower, even though Sasha's body is about ready to forgo it and deal with the discomfort in the morning for the sake of passing out now. "You might have to make sure I don't fall over." He nuzzles into Leon's hair again, not even attempting to move just yet. "Can't feel my legs."

That is, until the gentle brushes of Leon's fingertips along his spine suddenly become more firm and Sasha is rather suddenly assaulted by a wave of sensation that has him gasp and his eyes open to give Leon a half-hearted glare for abusing the knowledge of his altered anatomy.

"I really need to get that adjusted." Sasha says and then finally moves to withdraw. He groans as he turns over, only now fully realizing how sore he is. How slick, too; a rather stark reminder of his own display of neediness from before. Without the haze of pleasure, the thought makes his cheeks flush with embarrassment and to hide it, he turns away from Leon to cast the soiled pillow from before to the floor.

It turns out that he assumed correctly in being more than a little unsteady on his feet. But just as this morning there is not the familiar wave of pain he expects normally upon standing up, but rather just the soreness and the trembling of his muscles that come with particularly good sex. When he fully stands up straight he can also feel the proof of their tryst trickle down the inside of his legs and the sensation sends a not entirely unpleasant shiver up and down his spine.

Sasha senses Leon close to him before he places hand against his side to keep him steady and even just the warmth of his palm against his quickly chilling skin makes any reservations or worries Sasha may have had disappear.

Sasha gives a hoarse little chuckle at the way Leon's mere presence seems to make everything easier, more clear. "I'm learning a lot about myself." He says cryptically and leans a little heavier onto Leon for support, but not before reaching up and brushing Leon's bangs out of his face to use the matter of their height difference to press a kiss to Leon's forehead. He sincerely hopes Leon isn't going to get tired of these little affections. The line between what this should be and what it could be is getting progressively more blurry, if only because neither of them has fully addressed it yet.

There are other things to worry about. His mind reminds him. Bigger things. Tomorrow at the latest he'd have to set these feelings aside in favor of their mission. Sasha can't afford to let himself be distracted, and neither can Leon. It could easily be their death.

...However, if these are to be the last few hours of peace before reality comes rushing back in, Sasha will cherish every second. So what if he stands a little closer in the shower, holds Leon a little tighter as they stand under the spray, or steals more kisses than he likely should while they get distracted cleaning each other up. Does it matter if this truly is just a bit of fun with no strings attached or something more? If it means that he gets to watch the shadows around Leon's eyes alleviate just for a little while, Sasha fails to see the harm in any of it.

Just one more night.

Just a little longer.

[aureatescars]

It's difficult to not immediately give in to the urge to push into the other man's space. The wolfish instinct to check him over, to make sure he's unharmed, is coiling right under the surface, but Sasha quickly stifles it when upon taking even just one step closer, he ends up staring down the wrong end of a gun. He feels his wolf shrink away from the perceived betrayal, and he has to bite down on his tongue to keep from whining. Rationally Sasha is very aware that his friend is rightfully cautious of any stranger, but that doesn't change the fact that the distrust written clearly in his posture and the hostility in his gaze have Sasha's chest tighten and his shoulders round.

He raises his hands in a show of no weapons, nor ill-intend, but he realizes that even so, he must look suspicious. He can feel his wound bleed through the fabric covering his side and the fact that he didn't have the time to clean himself up otherwise is likely not doing him any favors either.

"I mean you no harm." He says, voice rough from disuse still, his accent thick. He isn't surprised to see that, rather than lowering his gun, the other man keeps it trained on him, his posture even more tense now that Sasha has spoken.

And despite the fact that Sasha knows this man it's still different to look at him now. The wolf immediately recognized him as an ally once he made an effort to free him from that trap, but Sasha didn't think it would feel different to meet him face to face. He didn't realize before, always looking up at him from his wolf's eyes as he had been, but Sasha stands a good head taller than the other man now. His shoulders are a little wider, too, if not by much. From what he can see and properly assess now, the young man's physique rivals Sasha's own, despite the fact he's human. Sasha doesn't doubt he could put up a proper fight if provoked, and he isn't entirely certain he'd be able to win it.

There is an odd sense of pride at that thought emerging from deep within him and it takes him a moment to understand it's his wolf that's pleased about the realization. He shakes his head to clear it, and takes a step towards his friend, meaning to prompt him to lower the gun, to soothe the tension he can sense from him, only to see the other man lock up with more of it, the barrel still pointed straight at him.

He stops, kicking himself for letting his instincts take over again and finally answers the question. "My name is Alexander Kozachenko." He says. "I— I was on vacation with my..."

Pack.

"...My friends." He casts his eyes down at the thought of them, firmly shutting himself off from any form of pack bond that might remain in fear of it leading any more mutated werewolves to them. " We ...We were ambushed on the mainland months ago and brought here." He grits his teeth at the memory, the weeks if anguish that followed. "I might be the only one left."

Sasha can't afford letting his attention slip again, he has to focus all of his might on cutting off the monster from going after his friend. The instinct to hunt is still anchored deep within the creature and it takes a lot of effort to pull its attention away from the man ducking into the underbrush and back to him.

With all of its wild fury now focused on him, a sense of relief overcomes Sasha. At the very least, his friend would be able to get away from here. The man's promise still rings in his ears and despite the throbbing, bleeding gash in his side Sasha feels himself become stronger, more determined.

Sasha digs his claws deep into the dirt once more, readying himself for another leap at the mutated werewolf in front of him. But the creature comes at him first, all rows of sharp teeth and crooked, razor sharp claws. He jumps to the side to evade, but underestimates just how fast this creature truly is. It grabs him again, Sasha feels the claws dig into his fur and scrape his skin. He yowls in pain, then gets send flying until he collides harshly with a tree. He feels something crack. A rib or two. His visions grows fuzzy for a moment, and a deep growl emerges from Sasha's throat, his wolf threatening his opponent despite his hunched over position. The werewolf in turn doesn't waste any time to come at him again, and Sasha knows he can't overcome him like this.

There is the sound of more broken bones, but this time it is Sasha's own doing. The familiar rippling of his skin as his muscles adjust around the shifting of his body announce the return of his human form. His fur receedes and the chill of his surroundings is what hits him first, but he's to angry to care about it now. The growl morphs into a loud scream of anger and pain as Sasha catches the grotesquely mutated head of the werewolf between his hands. Teeth are now snapping just out of reach of his bare throat and it takes every ounce of strength still left within him to grab on hard enough to snap the werewolf's neck.

It slumps in its grip, his wolf whines in mourning at having taken down someone once so very dear to him. Sasha's face contorts in sorrow and just for a moment does he allow himself to cradle the beast in his arms. He can still feel its warmth, underneath the grime and death he can even still smell the familiar scent of pack. But then, he hears a faint heartbeat and at once realization settles in that, in time, the creature would rise again, its regeneration enhanced by the parasite enough to even right a broken spine.

So, with a heavy foreboding feeling settling in his chest, one of Sasha's hands moves back while the other shifts the creature off of him. His fingernails sharpen into claws once more and with one well aimed punch does he crush the monster's ribcage. His fingers close around the barely beating heart and with the sickening sound of tearing flesh, he pulls it free and, at last, the monster's life snuffs out.

Dark blood stains his hand, spills out onto his chest and splatters on his face. The limp body slides off of him and Sasha drops the bloodied heart to the floor. He curls in on himself then, the shock over what he was forced to do weighing him down, chest tightening with grief all encompassing. He thought— he hoped— his pack was dead, because this, this is so much worse than death.

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, hot tears stream down his face and mingle with the blood on his palm, an agonizing scream of pain wrests from his throat, in the back of his mind his wolf howls in sorrow.

Sasha doesn't know how long he sits there weeping. His natural healing struggles with wounds and broken bones inflicted by one of his own kind, but the aching in him has nothing to do with physical pain and everything with knowing that the dark hollow feeling where his connection to his pack once was is the tattered ties to more of the same beasts he just felled.

They're still calling to him, even though their thoughts are a jumbled mess of agony. He knows the parasite is what is calling for him to join them... but his pack, his family, they're crying out for help, they're calling for him to end their suffering.

The realization has his shoulders slowly stop shaking as resolve settles within him. The tears ebb away, and Sasha wipes at his eyes roughly to get rid of the moisture clinging to his cheeks. But when he tries to call forth his wolf again, he finds it shrinking away, finds himself unable to draw it out. He's still grieving, wants to hide and mourn in peace. Sasha grunts in frustration. Ever at odds with his wolf, ever unable to really control him. There is no time for this.

"He he he, that's the second time now, third time I'll have t'charge ye."

Sasha jumps to his feet, instinctively growling at the merchant as he emerges from the woodwork, his wolf still too close to the surface to speak. Where the hell did he even come from this time?

"What do you want!?" His tone is still raw with grief and anger, a distinct gravel to his voice. His eyes flare golden.

"I'm helpin' ye, friend." The merchant drawls, holding up his hands in that same gesture of no ill will from earlier. "Here. Might want to put those on." He throws a bundle of clothes at Sasha. A shirt, a pair of pants and even some boots that all look like they've been taken straight from the wardrobe of one of the villagers. But they smell clean aside from a hint of dust and the residue gunpowder from the merchant's hands. There is no stench of sweat or grime.

His body is shaken by another shiver, the cold air that would normally not even faze him now creeping into aching bones and only slowly healing muscles and skin. But with his wolf unwilling to come forth, there isn't anything else to do then relent. His hand and face are still covered in blood, as is his side where the clawmarks of the beast reside, but there is neither time nor opportunity to clean himself up. He doesnt let the merchant out of his sight as he puts the clothes on, surprised at the fit of the pieces. The fabric grates his skin after spending so long in his animal form, but it's still as if they were made specifically for him.

Sasha narrows his eyes at the merchant afterwards. There are many questions brewing in his mind, but in the end the only one he voices is: "Why?" The merchant shrugs. "Sad or dead. Not a good look on customers. Not good for business."

"I'm not a customer of yours."

"No..." He says ominously, a glint of amusement in his eyes. It irks him, it's as if the merchant always knows something that hasn't revealed itself to Sasha yet. "But our mutual friend cares a great deal about his pet."

He doesn't need to say it outright, he knows exactly who he is referring to. This, too, makes him want to lash out. There is nothing he wants more than find his new friend, make sure he is safe and revel in the sense of safety his presence provides him with in turn. He wants to find him, he needs to, but it shouldn't be this obvious to others. "He should be ready to head back to the church soon." The merchant says. "Might need some more guidance along the way, or a hand or two... he he he"

Sasha grits his teeth, but then decides to simply turn to leave, done with the cryptic messages the merchant is spouting. "See ye around, mate." The merchant says in parting, still sounding way too amused for Sasha's liking. Sasha ignores him and holds his nose to the wind to pick up on the scent of his friend. It's so easy to pick it out among the other smells around the area, plain as day. As if he is merely picking up a red thread, tugging at it, holding on to it to follow.

Sasha's footing isn't as sure on the uneven floor as it is when he's shifted, but that doesn't keep him from breaking into a sprint as soon as he finds the scent to follow. His vision is still a lot better than that of an average human, making it easy to navigate the darkness around him. He has found his purpose, no more running away, no more covering in fear.

And no more losing people he cares for.

[aureatescars]

Mostly driven by instinct now, Sasha loses himself in the sensations, not caring for anything other than chasing more friction, more pleasure, just more. The groan that follows Leon letting up is in part motivated by frustration about losing part of that, only to gasp roughly when Leon's lips find his throat. It disarms him long enough to have to catch his breath, to have his eyes flutter open and lean back, only to realize that there is a small line of discomfort between Leon's brows.

It's then that Sasha decides to withdraw entirely from their lengths and instead take hold of Leon's hands to lead his arms around the back of his neck. "Hold on." He says inbetween more kisses, fighting the way they make his legs grow weak. Only when he feels Leon's grip turn a little tighter in light of his words does he find the strength to hook his hands beneath Leon's thighs to lift him off the counter.

It's a lot easier to carry him now that his ribs are healed and Sasha is back to full strength. Leon's legs find their way around him naturally, and Sasha merely adnustd his hold once to distribute his weight. They fit together as if they've done it a dozent times. Sasha holds on, holds him tight, and it's not entirely because of the arousal that's coursing through him and demands attention, but just as much the need to simply hold on to Leon and feel him pressed against him. However, it doesn't drown out the overwhelming desire to feel him entirely without the remaining barriers of clothing.

The TV is still on in the other room, but Sasha doesn't bother sparing it as much as a passing thought. Instead, he turns to the stairs, and climbs them with surprising ease, finding his way to the bedroom blindly when they once again end up distracted by eachother's lips and tongues and teeth. But he, too, ends up gasping at the harshness of the friction he feels when Leon's hips involuntarily roll into his own again, which sparks a thought in his mind.

He sets Leon down on the bed not long after. It's tempting to immediately join him on the bed, but Sasha pulls away when Leon tries to tug him down on top of him. "I'll be right back." He says, pulling Leon's hand up to press an apologetic kiss to the back of it, before he turns to walk to the bathroom, looking for the tube of aloe vera gel they keep there.

He is merely gone for a few moments, but when he returns Leon is sat back on the bed and fully undressed, catching Sasha off guard in a way that has him stop and stare at the sight he makes, flushed and disheveled with his pupils blown wide and lips parted on heavy burst of air that expand his bare chest with every breath, the muscles of his abdomen flexing, his legs shifting ever so slightly apart. His cock, hard and straining where it rests against Leon's abdomen, has Sasha swallow thickly. He abandons the tube of gel on the bed to quickly undress fully as well, aching to feel Leon's warmth against him again, to feel all of him once more, forgetting about having meant to ease the glide of their lengths with the gel in favor if putting his mouth and hands to every inch of Leon.

It's a rather blatant mirror image to the first night they spent together, both of them desperate and rushing to feel something other than pain, running from the horrors they had experienced and into eachothers arms, consequences be damned.

Sasha is already kneeling between Leon's legs to pull him close with renewed urgency when he realizes this, and then he slows himself down again. His grasp on Leon's waist gentles just enough to not be taken as frantic. The next kiss is just as deep as the others were, the want is still there, after all, and this is reminiscent of their first night, too. He can feel it in the way Leon's fingers dig into his arm as they kiss, as if he's afraid of slowing down enough to think, afraid of what would happen if they did, but Sasha refuses to rush into this blindly again.

The kiss turns languid once more, and when they eventually part to breathe, Sasha moves down to brush his lips against Leon's neck, then to his collarbone, shifting along to eventually tenderly kiss the scar of his bullet wound. He feels Leon's hands wander from his arms to his shoulders and into his hair, hears his breathing hitch when Sasha ultimately closes his mouth around a nipple to gently bite and suck at it. Sasha stays there for a bit, paying attention to one side of Leon's chest with his mouth while the other gets carressed by his fingers. Sasha gets lost in the sounds Leon makes, enjoying them all, enjoying the way he can barely contain the small bucks of his hips with each flick of Sasha's tongue.

A muttered, breathless curse on Leon's part sends a shiver down Sasha's spine when he moves ever lower, pressing soothing kisses to quivering muscles as he passes them on his way to where Leon's length is resting hot and heavy against his skin. Sasha can see the tip pearling with fluid and he doesn't second guess it when he gets the urge to lean in and run his tongue over the head of Leon's erection, eyes closing against the salty and bitter taste. He looks up at Leon's flushed face then, his own eyes half-lidded as his lips part on a shaky breath.

"I— I don't really know what I'm doing," he says while running a restless thumb along Leon's hip. There is a hint of embarrassment to his voice, a bit of insecurity to his actions. "But I want to try—" His gaze flickers down to Leon's length again. He can't quite bring himself to say it. He clears his throat, briefly meeting Leon's eyes again before he adjusts his position to make what he is about to do a little easier. "Tell me if I'm doing something wrong?" He asks then, but doesn't leave Leon much time to answer. Sasha leans down to lick along the length of Leon's cock, base to tip. Once there, he hesitates for a moment, but then opens his mouth to fit his lips around the tip.

His hips stutter into Leon’s touch, rough and dry as it is, it is still everything and more Sasha has wanted. His fingers hook beneath Leon’s thighs, nails digging into his pantlegs as he pulls him that much closer. The friction of Leon’s fingers around him has him gasp, but it’s not enough to fully rob him of his need to undress Leon further too. “Almost…” He breathes and then leans in to kiss Leon again in lieu of a proper answer. His own hands still move to undo Leon’s pants and shove them out of the way, swallowing thickly when he glimpses the wet spot in Leon’s underwear soon after, finding him just as desperate as himself.

Sasha’s breath shudders out of him in an unsteady exhale when Leon gives him a measured, slow stroke in the meantime and it takes every single bit of his already frayed self-control to not simply begin to fuck into the circle of his hand. But at the same time it doesn’t take much to get him back on track, as even pushing his hips forward just ever so slightly reminds him of the straining hardness in Leon’s pants and Sasha then shifts his fingers below the waistband of Leon’s underwear and tugs them down. They’re still not fully undressed, but it’s close enough to be able to feel eachother skin on skin.

One hand finds it’s way around the back of Leon’s neck then, tilting his head up for another deep and desperate kiss. The other moves to briefly lessen Leon’s hold around Sasha’s length, only to then take Leon’s hand and lead it to encircle them both together, guiding his hand with his own. He tightens his own hold around Leon’s hand just enough that the next bit of friction makes him see stars behind closed lids as their erections press together hot and heavy. And he’d worry that it is just this side of too tight, or dry for his lover to enjoy, if it wasn’t for the fact that this time it’s Leon who is forced to break the kiss for an appreciative moan.

Sasha blinks his eyes back open just after the first wave of heightened pleasure ebbs and is met by the dark want of Leon’s pupils near fully eclipsing the brilliant blue of his eyes. It’s been so long since he’s last seen this sort of expression on Leon’s face, and even so it is still the first time it’s not entirely overshadowed by the grief or confusion of their past.

The hand on the back of Leon’s neck moves to cup his cheek. His thumb brushes along his cheekbone as he tips his head back to better look into his eyes, his own full of wonder as he takes him in. “You’re so beautiful.” Sasha whispers before he guides them back into another, slower kiss while he begins to lead their joined hands into a slow rhythm that is maybe a bit slow for their already roughened breathing and desperate noises, but it is also everything he wants to do: take his time, truly and feel this, feel Leon, with every fibre of his being.

[aureatescars]

Sasha focuses on getting the food ready. Even with Leon no longer there to distract him, it's a bit of a struggle to remember everything it takes to prepare the dish. His mind strays to go through the events of the day again, gets caught on the way Leon looked after what happened at the lake, what he shared with him in light of it. He wonders just how much Leon has endured and simultaneously isn't sure if he really wants to know. It isn't fair for one person to face so many horrors, but with everything he's learned about him, Sasha wouldn't be surprised if Leon thought it was necessary for him to face the darkness so others could get out of it. It's what he's done for him. It's what he's still doing now.

The telltale scent of something burning startles him from his thoughts and he curses quietly as he turns down the heat and proceeds to do damage control. Thankfully, it's only a few onions that fell victim to Sasha's negligence and soon enough the only thing left to do is leave the pot to simmer.

Sasha uses the time to clean up a bit and eventually turns to pull a small knife from a drawer to begin cutting up a few pieces of fruit they acquired earlier. He doesn't really realize what he's doing until he's halfway through cutting up an apple and he blinks down at the plate. It bears a striking resemblance to the fruit platters his mother would make for him when he was still living at home, when whatever meal she was in the middle of cooking was still at least half an hour from being done.

It's then that Leon speaks up from behind him and Sasha sets the knife aside to turn around and face him. His expression turns from surprise to a mild smile and he takes the plate to set it in his lap and wheel himself over to Leon. Not allowing himself to second guess his own actions. "You're not great at sitting still and waiting, are you?" Sasha says and watches Leon struggle to fight down a pout. It's endearing.

"There is no rush." Sasha says then. "Here, you can set the table after you're done with this." He holds out the plate with the small selection of fruit for Leon to take. Sasha also added a few of the cut vegetables Leon was so adamant about stealing earlier.

The way Leon's eyes become round and wide when he's taken aback, make him look so much younger than what Sasha is used to. He's only just beginning to see this side of Leon more often. His expressions become more open, his moods easier to read. If Sasha didn't know better he'd almost say that the Leon he first met was an entirely different person. But then again, maybe he was. Sasha definitely isn't the same man from a few months ago anymore either, and a lot of it is thanks to Leon.

Maybe even all of it.

"Won't be long now." He reassures Leon, already on his way back to the kitchen to make sure everything is in order.

Once they're back in inside, tension Sasha didn't realize was there before skowly begins bleeding from his shoulders. He can feel exhaustion creep in bit by bit, the day taking its toll after weeks of him not doing much aside from occasional physical therapy and otherwise resting in bed. He almsot finds himself missing the naps he was able to take throughout the days in the hospital before, even though at the time he'd more often than not been frustrated by the lack of anything else to do.

The task at hand seems daunting in comparison, and thus it doesn't take much for him to convince himself to accept Leon's offer of help. Although, as it turns out, Leon isn't particularly helpful half of the time, because the moment he is done chopping his part of the vegetables he begins stealing stuff from Sasha's chopping board to munch on, giving him that cheeky grin Sasha's become irritatedly fond of as of late when he narrows his eyes at him in turn. "Would you stop that?" Sasha asks at some point and feels compelled to pinch Leon in the side when he, in fact, does not stop.

Leon also has a way of standing precisely infront of the cabinet Sasha needs to open at any given time, causing him to at some point simply put his hands on either side of Leon's hips while the other is mid sentence into telling a story and physically moving him out of the way when he doesn't get the hint of Sasha wheeling himself close in order to open a lower cabinet to find a pot to cook with.

"You are a menace." Sasha says gruffly when he gives Leon another nudge with the cabinet door as Leon still manages to be slightly in the way. He looks up at him then to find him suspiciously quiet all of the sudden, but after the day they've had and with Sasha slowly learning to navigate around Leon's way of purposely irritating him just to be contrary, it doesn't come out half as harsh as it might have on any other day. "Just go sit over there and look pretty, I can handle the rest myself."

Then he is forced to catch Leon's hand again, when he fails to swat at it in order to keep him from stealing yet another piece of vegetable. "Stop. It." He says once more, this time with more authority in his tone, the words coming out harsher without him really meaning to give them that much gravity. He is surprised when Leon actually backs down and he is able to extract the piece of carrot from his grasp. In turn, Leon seems just as confused by it as Sasha is, only to then have his other hand pick up a different piece of vegetable to put between his teeth, smiling around it.

Sasha sighs. "You're having far too much fun outmaneuvering a man in a wheelchair." He scoffs. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" He tries for a more serious tone, but he can't quite hide the upwards quirk of his lips at Leon's behavior, amusement far outweighing the annoyance of cooking with increased difficulty when Leon's eyes shine with such mischief.

[aureatescars]

Insatiable... Yes, he supposes he has to admit that to be true by now.

"Never used to be." He mumbles into Leon's hair as the dazed state of his mind slowly makes way for drowsiness. He never considered himself to have a particularly high libido, even as a teenager he hadn't been this bad, nor overly curious to find out just where exactly his limits were. Maybe it's why he's so eager for it now, making up for lost time and all that... Although, as Leon brushes soothing kisses to his aching shoulder, he can't help but feel like it has nothing to do with curiosity or lost time, aside from the three years inbetween the civil war and watching Leon walk into his office.

It takes Leon nudging him in the side and repeating his question for Sasha to dip back to full awareness, having almost nodded off between exhaustion from the day and the bliss following the most intense orgasm he ever experienced.

He makes a small noise of agreement, although it's little more than a hum. Leon's right to suggest it, they could both do with a shower, even though Sasha's body is about ready to forgo it and deal with the discomfort in the morning for the sake of passing out now. "You might have to make sure I don't fall over." He nuzzles into Leon's hair again, not even attempting to move just yet. "Can't feel my legs."

That is, until the gentle brushes of Leon's fingertips along his spine suddenly become more firm and Sasha is rather suddenly assaulted by a wave of sensation that has him gasp and his eyes open to give Leon a half-hearted glare for abusing the knowledge of his altered anatomy.

"I really need to get that adjusted." Sasha says and then finally moves to withdraw. He groans as he turns over, only now fully realizing how sore he is. How slick, too; a rather stark reminder of his own display of neediness from before. Without the haze of pleasure, the thought makes his cheeks flush with embarrassment and to hide it, he turns away from Leon to cast the soiled pillow from before to the floor.

It turns out that he assumed correctly in being more than a little unsteady on his feet. But just as this morning there is not the familiar wave of pain he expects normally upon standing up, but rather just the soreness and the trembling of his muscles that come with particularly good sex. When he fully stands up straight he can also feel the proof of their tryst trickle down the inside of his legs and the sensation sends a not entirely unpleasant shiver up and down his spine.

Sasha senses Leon close to him before he places hand against his side to keep him steady and even just the warmth of his palm against his quickly chilling skin makes any reservations or worries Sasha may have had disappear.

Sasha gives a hoarse little chuckle at the way Leon's mere presence seems to make everything easier, more clear. "I'm learning a lot about myself." He says cryptically and leans a little heavier onto Leon for support, but not before reaching up and brushing Leon's bangs out of his face to use the matter of their height difference to press a kiss to Leon's forehead. He sincerely hopes Leon isn't going to get tired of these little affections. The line between what this should be and what it could be is getting progressively more blurry, if only because neither of them has fully addressed it yet.

There are other things to worry about. His mind reminds him. Bigger things. Tomorrow at the latest he'd have to set these feelings aside in favor of their mission. Sasha can't afford to let himself be distracted, and neither can Leon. It could easily be their death.

...However, if these are to be the last few hours of peace before reality comes rushing back in, Sasha will cherish every second. So what if he stands a little closer in the shower, holds Leon a little tighter as they stand under the spray, or steals more kisses than he likely should while they get distracted cleaning each other up. Does it matter if this truly is just a bit of fun with no strings attached or something more? If it means that he gets to watch the shadows around Leon's eyes alleviate just for a little while, Sasha fails to see the harm in any of it.

Just one more night.

Just a little longer.

Sasha is lost in sensation. From the moment he feels Leon inside of him there isn't anything he can do other than feel, let pleasure and the feeling of deep connection overcome him. It's as if he can feel Leon's heartbeat beat in his chest, his need just as much as he can his own. Leon's fingers weave through his, previously curled tightly into the sheets, and Sasha's chest expands on a breath just to release in a desperate moan when Leon finally settles inside of him.

The fractured nature of Leon's voice tells him that his lover is equally close to shattering. It's nearly enough to have him fall apart right then, words failing him entirely in light of it, but he needs more. Be needs to feel him. His back arches, his artificial spine shifts alongside his muscles and Leon's lips and teeth find the back of his neck again before he finally —finally— begins to move. The sound Leon lets out in turn is only spurring on the tightly coiling heat in Sasha's core. His lover voicing his pleasure against his body in rough moans and gasps nearly tips him over immediately, but then white hot pleasure explodes across his vision when Leon hits him just right.

[F-Fuck!]

A few moments, it doesn't take more for Leon to find a rhythm that reduces Sasha to a boneless mess, stars dance behind closed eyelids as Sasha is merely left to take it, completely at Leon's mercy with his hold firm at Sasha's hip. For once, not being able to fully utilize his lower body's strength doesn't make him feel helpless or frustrated but rather Leon's touches make it so that he feels entirely safe and... loved despite of it.

"Leon—!" An awed whisper, shaky and dipped in desperation. His free hand shoots out to reach behind him and grasp Leon's thigh, his entire body taught as his face scrunches up and he bites into his pillow to stifle a loud moan as he feels his lover spill hotly inside of him, only to gasp and shiver into his own release the moment Leon's teeth dig lightly into the area where metal joins to skin just at the top of his spine.

Sasha is determined to ride his own orgasm out with a few more rough rolls of his hips, whining when this, at last, tips him over the line of overstimulation, but for a long drawn out moment he can't stop, not when Leon's length is burying itself into him a few more times, pressing up expertly against his prostate with each movement. Sasha presses back against him best he can to be able to at least lift his hips from the pillow beneath him to not go mad with it all, only to let out a sound close to a sob when he feels Leon's fingers curl around his straining, throbbing arousal. His hand finds Leon's around his length. His entire body stills, trembling with soft shallow gasps, toes curling and shoulders locked tight. He's on the verge of pleading with Leon then, but whether he'd plead for him to stop or keep going he doesn't know.

[Please—]

Leon gives him a mokent to breathe and nuzzles against the back of his neck, but after a few seconds Sasha is able to feel a smirk pull at the corners of Leon's lips where they're pressed to his skin. It's all of the warning he gets before Leon moves their hands along Sasha's erection in a few quick movements, thrusting deep into his body a few more times with a matching pace and the sounds between their bodies bordering on obscene.

Sasha surrenders into it. With a cry of Leon's name on his lips his entire world goes white and he paints himself, their hands and the pillow beneath with thick ropes of semen.

He collapses a moment after, barely feels Leon withdraw his hand before the afterglow takes him under for a moment. It can't have been long, for when he comes to, he is still lying on his front, breathing still heavy, his face half burried into the pillow. His body feels numb, yet alight with pleasure, deeply satisfied, but heavy, even just turning his head to look to the side takes all of his remaining strength. There lies his lover, looking as much a wreck as Sasha feels. His breathing matches his own, his chest and abdomen glistens with sweat, his cock, slowly softening, is still wet with release that Sasha can feel trickle out of himself as well.

He lets out a groan at the thought, half disappointed that he had missed the sensation of him pulling out while overcome with the afterglow, and half embarrassed at the realization that he'd wanted to keep him inside as long as possible.

"Why are you so far away?" Sasha says, whispers, really, because his voice is just as fractured as his thoughts. Nevermind the fact that Leon merely rolled over to be able to breathe, nothing but a few inches between them, Sasha still feels oddly bereft of touch. He doesn't leave Leon long to answer, rather he reaches out immediately, his hand hooking under Leon's thigh to pull him close with newfound strength, with the need to be close. Leon clearly doesn't expect it with the gasp Sasha hears when he lifts his leg to pull it over his hip, their bodies aligning once again from hip to chest. One of his own legs shifts between Leon's and Sasha's lips find his lover's in a slow but still heated kiss that has both of their heads swimming again within seconds. It's like a drug, an addiction. He only manages to pull away when Leon gives a pointed forward thrust of his hips which reminds Sasha that he really cannot take anymore. He curses, bites his lower lip and hisses when his body still seems torn between pleasure and too much.

He breathes deeply for a moment, his hold on Leon gentles and he forces himself to tilt his chin upward and merely press a kiss to Leon's forehead instead. A pleased little sound makes it past his lips when Leon's scent fills his nose soon after, soothing his ruffled mind. The sweet ache of their activities weighes him down again and very slowly does his head begin to clear.

"...That was..." He trails off

There aren't words.

[aureatescars]

Sasha is lost in sensation. From the moment he feels Leon inside of him there isn't anything he can do other than feel, let pleasure and the feeling of deep connection overcome him. It's as if he can feel Leon's heartbeat beat in his chest, his need just as much as he can his own. Leon's fingers weave through his, previously curled tightly into the sheets, and Sasha's chest expands on a breath just to release in a desperate moan when Leon finally settles inside of him.

The fractured nature of Leon's voice tells him that his lover is equally close to shattering. It's nearly enough to have him fall apart right then, words failing him entirely in light of it, but he needs more. Be needs to feel him. His back arches, his artificial spine shifts alongside his muscles and Leon's lips and teeth find the back of his neck again before he finally —finally— begins to move. The sound Leon lets out in turn is only spurring on the tightly coiling heat in Sasha's core. His lover voicing his pleasure against his body in rough moans and gasps nearly tips him over immediately, but then white hot pleasure explodes across his vision when Leon hits him just right.

[F-Fuck!]

A few moments, it doesn't take more for Leon to find a rhythm that reduces Sasha to a boneless mess, stars dance behind closed eyelids as Sasha is merely left to take it, completely at Leon's mercy with his hold firm at Sasha's hip. For once, not being able to fully utilize his lower body's strength doesn't make him feel helpless or frustrated but rather Leon's touches make it so that he feels entirely safe and... loved despite of it.

"Leon—!" An awed whisper, shaky and dipped in desperation. His free hand shoots out to reach behind him and grasp Leon's thigh, his entire body taught as his face scrunches up and he bites into his pillow to stifle a loud moan as he feels his lover spill hotly inside of him, only to gasp and shiver into his own release the moment Leon's teeth dig lightly into the area where metal joins to skin just at the top of his spine.

Sasha is determined to ride his own orgasm out with a few more rough rolls of his hips, whining when this, at last, tips him over the line of overstimulation, but for a long drawn out moment he can't stop, not when Leon's length is burying itself into him a few more times, pressing up expertly against his prostate with each movement. Sasha presses back against him best he can to be able to at least lift his hips from the pillow beneath him to not go mad with it all, only to let out a sound close to a sob when he feels Leon's fingers curl around his straining, throbbing arousal. His hand finds Leon's around his length. His entire body stills, trembling with soft shallow gasps, toes curling and shoulders locked tight. He's on the verge of pleading with Leon then, but whether he'd plead for him to stop or keep going he doesn't know.

[Please—]

Leon gives him a mokent to breathe and nuzzles against the back of his neck, but after a few seconds Sasha is able to feel a smirk pull at the corners of Leon's lips where they're pressed to his skin. It's all of the warning he gets before Leon moves their hands along Sasha's erection in a few quick movements, thrusting deep into his body a few more times with a matching pace and the sounds between their bodies bordering on obscene.

Sasha surrenders into it. With a cry of Leon's name on his lips his entire world goes white and he paints himself, their hands and the pillow beneath with thick ropes of semen.

He collapses a moment after, barely feels Leon withdraw his hand before the afterglow takes him under for a moment. It can't have been long, for when he comes to, he is still lying on his front, breathing still heavy, his face half burried into the pillow. His body feels numb, yet alight with pleasure, deeply satisfied, but heavy, even just turning his head to look to the side takes all of his remaining strength. There lies his lover, looking as much a wreck as Sasha feels. His breathing matches his own, his chest and abdomen glistens with sweat, his cock, slowly softening, is still wet with release that Sasha can feel trickle out of himself as well.

He lets out a groan at the thought, half disappointed that he had missed the sensation of him pulling out while overcome with the afterglow, and half embarrassed at the realization that he'd wanted to keep him inside as long as possible.

"Why are you so far away?" Sasha says, whispers, really, because his voice is just as fractured as his thoughts. Nevermind the fact that Leon merely rolled over to be able to breathe, nothing but a few inches between them, Sasha still feels oddly bereft of touch. He doesn't leave Leon long to answer, rather he reaches out immediately, his hand hooking under Leon's thigh to pull him close with newfound strength, with the need to be close. Leon clearly doesn't expect it with the gasp Sasha hears when he lifts his leg to pull it over his hip, their bodies aligning once again from hip to chest. One of his own legs shifts between Leon's and Sasha's lips find his lover's in a slow but still heated kiss that has both of their heads swimming again within seconds. It's like a drug, an addiction. He only manages to pull away when Leon gives a pointed forward thrust of his hips which reminds Sasha that he really cannot take anymore. He curses, bites his lower lip and hisses when his body still seems torn between pleasure and too much.

He breathes deeply for a moment, his hold on Leon gentles and he forces himself to tilt his chin upward and merely press a kiss to Leon's forehead instead. A pleased little sound makes it past his lips when Leon's scent fills his nose soon after, soothing his ruffled mind. The sweet ache of their activities weighes him down again and very slowly does his head begin to clear.

"...That was..." He trails off

There aren't words.

Sasha is treading on the line between absolute pleasure and aching need. Every single touch of Leon's seems to draw him more taught and the slight sting of overstimulation somehow only adds sharpness to the way he feels. The tension in his body is as much from the novelty of the sensation of having something breach him as it is from the shivers of want radiating down his spine as Leon works his fingers, first one, then two, steadily in and out of him with such precision it makes Sasha bare his teeth at the thought of him doing this to someone else. That possessiveness he's been struggling with creeps back in, he should fight it down, should not let himself get lost in wanting to claim Leon for himself— Despite being intimately familar with the concept of preparation as of last night, he still doesn't expect the jolt of pleasure that shakes him unexpectedly when Leon moves his hand just so.

[Fuck!]

Sasha's thoughts fizzle out after that. Leon's voice and gentle caresses are the only thing that keep him somewhat tethered to the present, so lost is he in his pleasure that he doesn't have any faculties left to be mindful of the noises he makes, nor does he really register their surroundings any longer. The only thing his mind is concerned with is Leon pushing in deeper and stretching him, brushing against that spot inside of him that makes his vision go white.

He lets out a choked off noise that starts out as a groan but ends up closer to a whimper when Leon withdraws his two fingers just long enough to add a third and the mental image alone is enough to have Sasha's hips buck into the soiled pillow beneath him, his length already half hard again from just this.

There's been a lot of firsts since their reunion, a lot of uncertainty and biting their tongue about what this is, what it might be, what it could turn into. And yet Sasha has never felt more safe than he does right now, bare and vulnerable and completely at Leon's mercy. The beginnings of tears sting at the corners of his eyes when another heavy wave of pleasure makes his toes curl and Sasha feels it in every fibre of his body, every nerveending is alight with want and none of it is tinted numbness or pain.

He chokes out a moan when Leon's fingers push as deep as they can go, stretching him further, slowly and steadily rubbing against him over and over until Sasha feels himself grow fully hard and desperate once more. He doesn't know how long it goes on like this, but be does know that both Leon and him get lost in the act. Sasha is barely coherent, caught in the ebb and flow of pleasure and Leon manages to just stay shy of tipping Sasha over into another orgasm. Sasha's shoulders work as he digs his fingers into the pillow and sheets beneath his head.

[Feels so good] He rasps when Leon keeps a steady, torturous pace. Even as his body shivers from the threat of overstimulation Sasha doesn't make a move to stop him. [Leon, fuck I—] He turns his head to the side to be able to breathe easier. His eyes open, gaze unseeing for a moment as he stares blankly off to the side, lost in all he is feeling. His pupils are blown wide, his eyes unfocused until Leon leans over him like before. Leon's need presses hot and heavy against the skin of Sasha's thigh as he leans in and Sasha presses back against him on instinct, moaning low and drawn out when that forces Leon's fingers deeper.

For a moment, Sasha drowns in endless blue when Leon looks at him, propped up on his free hand to be able to meet his eyes, the other having stilled inside of him, but still offering sweet, sweet pressure. Sasha groans, eyes fluttering shut again, blood rushes in his ears, his heart is pounding in his chest. He forces his eyes back open when he feels Leon brush his hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead and instinctively nuzzles into the touch best he can. He watches Leon's lips move, but the words' meaning doesn't quite reach him. He forces himself to focus when Leon's brows draw together in something that may just be concern. So, Sasha forces himself to take a proper breath, but it does nothing to calm him. In fact, with the smell of sex in the air and Leon's own scent filling his nose, it takes him quite some time to find the willpower and words to put a sentence together that Leon may understand, and when he finally does, it's barely more than a breath.

"'m close." He mumbles, then curses in Russian. [So close.] His eyes scrunch shut. His hips roll into the pillow once more and Sasha digs his teeth into his bottom lip so he might stop before he embarrasses himself again. He reaches back to grasp at Leon's thigh and pull him ever so much closer.

"Need you inside me."

[aureatescars]

Once they're back in inside, tension Sasha didn't realize was there before skowly begins bleeding from his shoulders. He can feel exhaustion creep in bit by bit, the day taking its toll after weeks of him not doing much aside from occasional physical therapy and otherwise resting in bed. He almsot finds himself missing the naps he was able to take throughout the days in the hospital before, even though at the time he'd more often than not been frustrated by the lack of anything else to do.

The task at hand seems daunting in comparison, and thus it doesn't take much for him to convince himself to accept Leon's offer of help. Although, as it turns out, Leon isn't particularly helpful half of the time, because the moment he is done chopping his part of the vegetables he begins stealing stuff from Sasha's chopping board to munch on, giving him that cheeky grin Sasha's become irritatedly fond of as of late when he narrows his eyes at him in turn. "Would you stop that?" Sasha asks at some point and feels compelled to pinch Leon in the side when he, in fact, does not stop.

Leon also has a way of standing precisely infront of the cabinet Sasha needs to open at any given time, causing him to at some point simply put his hands on either side of Leon's hips while the other is mid sentence into telling a story and physically moving him out of the way when he doesn't get the hint of Sasha wheeling himself close in order to open a lower cabinet to find a pot to cook with.

"You are a menace." Sasha says gruffly when he gives Leon another nudge with the cabinet door as Leon still manages to be slightly in the way. He looks up at him then to find him suspiciously quiet all of the sudden, but after the day they've had and with Sasha slowly learning to navigate around Leon's way of purposely irritating him just to be contrary, it doesn't come out half as harsh as it might have on any other day. "Just go sit over there and look pretty, I can handle the rest myself."

Then he is forced to catch Leon's hand again, when he fails to swat at it in order to keep him from stealing yet another piece of vegetable. "Stop. It." He says once more, this time with more authority in his tone, the words coming out harsher without him really meaning to give them that much gravity. He is surprised when Leon actually backs down and he is able to extract the piece of carrot from his grasp. In turn, Leon seems just as confused by it as Sasha is, only to then have his other hand pick up a different piece of vegetable to put between his teeth, smiling around it.

Sasha sighs. "You're having far too much fun outmaneuvering a man in a wheelchair." He scoffs. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" He tries for a more serious tone, but he can't quite hide the upwards quirk of his lips at Leon's behavior, amusement far outweighing the annoyance of cooking with increased difficulty when Leon's eyes shine with such mischief.

Sasha makes a sound close to an amused huff. "Fine, then I am the one that needs more clothes." He shoots back and then shoves the nearly empty water bottle back at Leon with enough force to cause him to exhale on a suprised breath when it hits him in the abdomen. Leon's expression is enough reason for slight amusement to make way for a genuine smile. "And I am happy to lend them to you, as long as it spares me from listening to you shiver and watching you pout at the weather."

They banter back and forth while making their way inside and Sasha doesn't think about how easy maintaining his smile and good mood is anymore and simply lets himself enjoy it. He even perks up and raises an eyebrow at Leon when he suggests one of his own favorites for dinner, accompanied by that same smugness that once upon a time made Sasha want to punch him. Right now, however, what he is feeling is far from aggravation. "Challenge accepted."

And thus, Sasha drags Leon across the entire store to pick up all he will need for a dish that he loved to eat growing up. Befstroganov, as he explains to Leon. A hearty beef stew. He distantly remembers his grandmother making this for their small family, until she got too old and her hands too shaky to cook much. From the on his mother was the one to keep up the tradition of making this for them, ultimately teaching Sasha how to cook as well.

It's best accompanied by some fresh egg noodles, or more traditionally by grechka: buckweat groats. When Leon asks why Sasha doesn't want to make those instead, he can't quite contain the flush of embarrassment dusting his cheeks and ears. "Because I don't like grechka." His nose scrunches up, his voice small. "Too chewy."

The genuine laugh he startles out of Leon with that near childish display of dislike is enough to chase any unpleasant memory about being scolded for not appreciating traditional Eastern Slavic food from his mind and he moves on to collect everything needed to make fresh egg noodles as well, determined to prove that he knows what he's talking about.

They spend a surprising amount of time in the store, with Sasha explaining some of the things Leon doesn't recognize from American supermarkets and him teaching Leon a few words for everyday items... or attempting to. His very American way of pronouncing the words has him chuckle, but he can appreciate the fact that his friend is trying.

By the time they make it back to the cash register they've picked up enough groceries, to not only last them for tonight but potentially until the end of the week. They even had to go back and get a proper shopping cart while they came up with a meal plan for the next few days, and a sweater or two for the both of them, as well as a proper warm jacket for Leon.

And if they ended up with a variety of snacks and a few good bottles of booze to enjoy, who is to judge them?

"Let me get this one." Sasha says, catching Leon's hand before the other man can reach for his wallet. His touch lingers long enough to meet Leon's eyes, determined to at least do this. It's also long enough to find that Leon's hands are warm, and the thought has something settle inside Sasha's mind, pleased and content.

Sasha pulls away, tilting his head slightly. "You can get the next." He adds, indicating he doesn't mean to pick a fight.

[aureatescars]

Sasha can't afford letting his attention slip again, he has to focus all of his might on cutting off the monster from going after his friend. The instinct to hunt is still anchored deep within the creature and it takes a lot of effort to pull its attention away from the man ducking into the underbrush and back to him.

With all of its wild fury now focused on him, a sense of relief overcomes Sasha. At the very least, his friend would be able to get away from here. The man's promise still rings in his ears and despite the throbbing, bleeding gash in his side Sasha feels himself become stronger, more determined.

Sasha digs his claws deep into the dirt once more, readying himself for another leap at the mutated werewolf in front of him. But the creature comes at him first, all rows of sharp teeth and crooked, razor sharp claws. He jumps to the side to evade, but underestimates just how fast this creature truly is. It grabs him again, Sasha feels the claws dig into his fur and scrape his skin. He yowls in pain, then gets send flying until he collides harshly with a tree. He feels something crack. A rib or two. His visions grows fuzzy for a moment, and a deep growl emerges from Sasha's throat, his wolf threatening his opponent despite his hunched over position. The werewolf in turn doesn't waste any time to come at him again, and Sasha knows he can't overcome him like this.

There is the sound of more broken bones, but this time it is Sasha's own doing. The familiar rippling of his skin as his muscles adjust around the shifting of his body announce the return of his human form. His fur receedes and the chill of his surroundings is what hits him first, but he's to angry to care about it now. The growl morphs into a loud scream of anger and pain as Sasha catches the grotesquely mutated head of the werewolf between his hands. Teeth are now snapping just out of reach of his bare throat and it takes every ounce of strength still left within him to grab on hard enough to snap the werewolf's neck.

It slumps in its grip, his wolf whines in mourning at having taken down someone once so very dear to him. Sasha's face contorts in sorrow and just for a moment does he allow himself to cradle the beast in his arms. He can still feel its warmth, underneath the grime and death he can even still smell the familiar scent of pack. But then, he hears a faint heartbeat and at once realization settles in that, in time, the creature would rise again, its regeneration enhanced by the parasite enough to even right a broken spine.

So, with a heavy foreboding feeling settling in his chest, one of Sasha's hands moves back while the other shifts the creature off of him. His fingernails sharpen into claws once more and with one well aimed punch does he crush the monster's ribcage. His fingers close around the barely beating heart and with the sickening sound of tearing flesh, he pulls it free and, at last, the monster's life snuffs out.

Dark blood stains his hand, spills out onto his chest and splatters on his face. The limp body slides off of him and Sasha drops the bloodied heart to the floor. He curls in on himself then, the shock over what he was forced to do weighing him down, chest tightening with grief all encompassing. He thought— he hoped— his pack was dead, because this, this is so much worse than death.

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, hot tears stream down his face and mingle with the blood on his palm, an agonizing scream of pain wrests from his throat, in the back of his mind his wolf howls in sorrow.

Sasha doesn't know how long he sits there weeping. His natural healing struggles with wounds and broken bones inflicted by one of his own kind, but the aching in him has nothing to do with physical pain and everything with knowing that the dark hollow feeling where his connection to his pack once was is the tattered ties to more of the same beasts he just felled.

They're still calling to him, even though their thoughts are a jumbled mess of agony. He knows the parasite is what is calling for him to join them... but his pack, his family, they're crying out for help, they're calling for him to end their suffering.

The realization has his shoulders slowly stop shaking as resolve settles within him. The tears ebb away, and Sasha wipes at his eyes roughly to get rid of the moisture clinging to his cheeks. But when he tries to call forth his wolf again, he finds it shrinking away, finds himself unable to draw it out. He's still grieving, wants to hide and mourn in peace. Sasha grunts in frustration. Ever at odds with his wolf, ever unable to really control him. There is no time for this.

"He he he, that's the second time now, third time I'll have t'charge ye."

Sasha jumps to his feet, instinctively growling at the merchant as he emerges from the woodwork, his wolf still too close to the surface to speak. Where the hell did he even come from this time?

"What do you want!?" His tone is still raw with grief and anger, a distinct gravel to his voice. His eyes flare golden.

"I'm helpin' ye, friend." The merchant drawls, holding up his hands in that same gesture of no ill will from earlier. "Here. Might want to put those on." He throws a bundle of clothes at Sasha. A shirt, a pair of pants and even some boots that all look like they've been taken straight from the wardrobe of one of the villagers. But they smell clean aside from a hint of dust and the residue gunpowder from the merchant's hands. There is no stench of sweat or grime.

His body is shaken by another shiver, the cold air that would normally not even faze him now creeping into aching bones and only slowly healing muscles and skin. But with his wolf unwilling to come forth, there isn't anything else to do then relent. His hand and face are still covered in blood, as is his side where the clawmarks of the beast reside, but there is neither time nor opportunity to clean himself up. He doesnt let the merchant out of his sight as he puts the clothes on, surprised at the fit of the pieces. The fabric grates his skin after spending so long in his animal form, but it's still as if they were made specifically for him.

Sasha narrows his eyes at the merchant afterwards. There are many questions brewing in his mind, but in the end the only one he voices is: "Why?" The merchant shrugs. "Sad or dead. Not a good look on customers. Not good for business."

"I'm not a customer of yours."

"No..." He says ominously, a glint of amusement in his eyes. It irks him, it's as if the merchant always knows something that hasn't revealed itself to Sasha yet. "But our mutual friend cares a great deal about his pet."

He doesn't need to say it outright, he knows exactly who he is referring to. This, too, makes him want to lash out. There is nothing he wants more than find his new friend, make sure he is safe and revel in the sense of safety his presence provides him with in turn. He wants to find him, he needs to, but it shouldn't be this obvious to others. "He should be ready to head back to the church soon." The merchant says. "Might need some more guidance along the way, or a hand or two... he he he"

Sasha grits his teeth, but then decides to simply turn to leave, done with the cryptic messages the merchant is spouting. "See ye around, mate." The merchant says in parting, still sounding way too amused for Sasha's liking. Sasha ignores him and holds his nose to the wind to pick up on the scent of his friend. It's so easy to pick it out among the other smells around the area, plain as day. As if he is merely picking up a red thread, tugging at it, holding on to it to follow.

Sasha's footing isn't as sure on the uneven floor as it is when he's shifted, but that doesn't keep him from breaking into a sprint as soon as he finds the scent to follow. His vision is still a lot better than that of an average human, making it easy to navigate the darkness around him. He has found his purpose, no more running away, no more covering in fear.

And no more losing people he cares for.

With the merchant's mocking words still echoing in his ears Sasha takes the lead as they continue on their way, only to be halted by the gentle hand of his friend tangling in his fluffed up fur, smoothing it down gently and offering light pets and scratches behind his ear that have at least some tension melt from his form again. He leans into the touch and in a small moment of weakness he rubs his head against the young man's side in search of more contact. He huffs out a breath, selfishly allowing himself to enjoy the moment now that it is just them once more... Until he catches the scent of something ominous in the air, something vile and wrong. His companion doesn't seem to notice, but he does take note of the way Sasha tenses up once more, Sasha nudges his thigh then, they have to keep going. There is something lurking in the shadows, and he can feel it closing in on them already. His paws barely make a sound on uneven ground as he leads his friend, stopping every so often to make sure he's keeping up.

The foul stench of death that is carried on the wind gets stronger the further they make their way through the darkness. It does nothing to put Sasha's mind at ease and the wolf is tense, his muscles wound tight, ready to leap into action as soon as what has been stalking them reveals itself.

Unfortunately, it doesn't take long. A stick snaps nearby and the wolf pounces, jumping infront of Leon just in time to dig his teeth into a grotesquely elongated forearm, covered with dirtied fur, long fingers that end in dark claws. A screech sounds in the otherwise eery silence and the creature pulls away, winds itself out of Sasha's grasp, but not without him tearing a good chunk of flesh out of its arm. The blood on his tongue and teeth tastes just as wrong as the creature smells and when Sasha bares his teeth in a snarl the creature before him does the same, revealing dark gums that razor sharp fangs are protruding from.

The stare of red eyes bores into Sasha's golden ones and his heart sinks as he realizes what, or rather who he is facing.

The monster rights itself to full height then, builds itself up and up. Its form is massive, its torso covered in patchy fur that barely resembles the silken coat it once was. The snarl is wet and the stench of death gets worse now that the mutated werewolf heaves heavy breaths into his direction. Sasha places himself between his companion and the creature, the monster, the werewolf that, mutated as it is now is exactly the kind of horror that all the fairytales warn mundane people from.

He can smell the stench of death from it, but the parasite, too, Sasha can feel it tugging at the mental link thats between the filth, can feel the infection answer to the call of this... this thing.

It hurts. It burns. It's not a pack bond, it's not even what's left of it, it's a mere imitation, an insulting attempt to make him docile, to convince him to stop fighting. Sasha growls louder, makes himself bigger and gives the most guttural and dangerous snarl he can muster while his heart aches with the realization that this is what has become of his pack. This is all that's left.

He hears the young man move behind him, hears the telltale click of a gun's safety being turned off before shots fire into the monster, burrying into fur and muscle. It barely flinches. A waste of bullets. This won't do, if he stays he'll be torn to shreds. Sasha whips around and growls at the man, shoves at him to move, to run.

But he barely manages to get him out of the trajectory of the next attack before he has to turn back around to fight the creature. He circles around fast. He leaps and lands claws first on the wrewolf's back. He digs his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. The creature howls in pain. This, at least, it feels. Thick razor sharp claws reach back and dig into his fur and grab him, throwing him off. Sasha yelps when upon impact with a nearby tree pain rattles his form. But he sees the monster turn its attention back to his friend and immediately jumps between them once more, herding the man away, while never letting his eyes lose track of the enemy.

Run. He thinks with desperation and wishes he could somehow convey it, convince him to leave him behind. Sasha growls once more, teeth snapping at the werewolf when it dares to take another step towards them.

Please just run. Sasha thinks again. He can still hear the man behind him, breaths hunted and the scent of fear thick in the cold evening air.

I can't lose you.

He almost shifts back then, he almost drops all the pretense just to be able to shout at him to run, for God's sake! One more time Sasha intercepts an attack meant for his human companion and pays for it by taking a deep gash to his side by his claws. He doesn't let it deter him. This time he opts to throw his entire weight against the beast, tackling it to the ground to be able to pin it there. He gets thrown off, but immediately jumps back to try again. He goes for the throat next, but an arm stops him just in time. Teeth dig into the infected flesh of it once more instead. He can taste the dark veins, the black ooze of the parasite as it begins to make this thing even stronger. He has to provoke it further. He has to thoroughly distract it and hopefully lead it away from the man that's shown him so much kindness. Sasha looks up when movement catches his periphery, still pinning the monster best he can with teeth and claw.

Gold meets blue, and for one fraction of a moment there is only them, only that connection he has tried so hard to convince himself isn't there, that can't be there, but then Sasha thinks that he sees something like understanding flicker through the man's expression. He gets it.

He saved him.

And Sasha intends to do the same in turn.

[aureatescars]

Sasha is treading on the line between absolute pleasure and aching need. Every single touch of Leon's seems to draw him more taught and the slight sting of overstimulation somehow only adds sharpness to the way he feels. The tension in his body is as much from the novelty of the sensation of having something breach him as it is from the shivers of want radiating down his spine as Leon works his fingers, first one, then two, steadily in and out of him with such precision it makes Sasha bare his teeth at the thought of him doing this to someone else. That possessiveness he's been struggling with creeps back in, he should fight it down, should not let himself get lost in wanting to claim Leon for himself— Despite being intimately familar with the concept of preparation as of last night, he still doesn't expect the jolt of pleasure that shakes him unexpectedly when Leon moves his hand just so.

[Fuck!]

Sasha's thoughts fizzle out after that. Leon's voice and gentle caresses are the only thing that keep him somewhat tethered to the present, so lost is he in his pleasure that he doesn't have any faculties left to be mindful of the noises he makes, nor does he really register their surroundings any longer. The only thing his mind is concerned with is Leon pushing in deeper and stretching him, brushing against that spot inside of him that makes his vision go white.

He lets out a choked off noise that starts out as a groan but ends up closer to a whimper when Leon withdraws his two fingers just long enough to add a third and the mental image alone is enough to have Sasha's hips buck into the soiled pillow beneath him, his length already half hard again from just this.

There's been a lot of firsts since their reunion, a lot of uncertainty and biting their tongue about what this is, what it might be, what it could turn into. And yet Sasha has never felt more safe than he does right now, bare and vulnerable and completely at Leon's mercy. The beginnings of tears sting at the corners of his eyes when another heavy wave of pleasure makes his toes curl and Sasha feels it in every fibre of his body, every nerveending is alight with want and none of it is tinted numbness or pain.

He chokes out a moan when Leon's fingers push as deep as they can go, stretching him further, slowly and steadily rubbing against him over and over until Sasha feels himself grow fully hard and desperate once more. He doesn't know how long it goes on like this, but be does know that both Leon and him get lost in the act. Sasha is barely coherent, caught in the ebb and flow of pleasure and Leon manages to just stay shy of tipping Sasha over into another orgasm. Sasha's shoulders work as he digs his fingers into the pillow and sheets beneath his head.

[Feels so good] He rasps when Leon keeps a steady, torturous pace. Even as his body shivers from the threat of overstimulation Sasha doesn't make a move to stop him. [Leon, fuck I—] He turns his head to the side to be able to breathe easier. His eyes open, gaze unseeing for a moment as he stares blankly off to the side, lost in all he is feeling. His pupils are blown wide, his eyes unfocused until Leon leans over him like before. Leon's need presses hot and heavy against the skin of Sasha's thigh as he leans in and Sasha presses back against him on instinct, moaning low and drawn out when that forces Leon's fingers deeper.

For a moment, Sasha drowns in endless blue when Leon looks at him, propped up on his free hand to be able to meet his eyes, the other having stilled inside of him, but still offering sweet, sweet pressure. Sasha groans, eyes fluttering shut again, blood rushes in his ears, his heart is pounding in his chest. He forces his eyes back open when he feels Leon brush his hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead and instinctively nuzzles into the touch best he can. He watches Leon's lips move, but the words' meaning doesn't quite reach him. He forces himself to focus when Leon's brows draw together in something that may just be concern. So, Sasha forces himself to take a proper breath, but it does nothing to calm him. In fact, with the smell of sex in the air and Leon's own scent filling his nose, it takes him quite some time to find the willpower and words to put a sentence together that Leon may understand, and when he finally does, it's barely more than a breath.

"'m close." He mumbles, then curses in Russian. [So close.] His eyes scrunch shut. His hips roll into the pillow once more and Sasha digs his teeth into his bottom lip so he might stop before he embarrasses himself again. He reaches back to grasp at Leon's thigh and pull him ever so much closer.

"Need you inside me."

Sasha groans again shortly after, flushed face burried in the pillow to hide the mixture of shame and arousal that persists when Leon's hands work to reduce him to a whimpering mess. He's pretty certain that this is not supposed to feel this intense. Every little touch of Leon's fingertips against the skin around the small metal plates fused to his back has Sasha bite down on his lower lip to keep from letting out sounds of pleasure. The tension from before melts away, but so do Sasha's inhibitions and it doesn't take much for his body to crave more than what Leon is currently giving.

His hips roll into the pillow tucked under him and even just this has him see stars when Leon digs his fingers into the muscles of his lower back, causing sensation to radiate up and down his spine. Sasha's fingers curl into the remaining pillow, his face still hidden within the soft fabric. But he has to turn his head to breathe, to pant his arousal harshly into the dimly lit room.

His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed deeply crimson. He barely has enough faculties left to be embarrassed by his body's reaction and they're snuffed out entirely when Leon leans forward, to kiss him so sweetly that it seems to physically hurt. Sasha's body gives a violent shiver at the contact, feeling Leon's hand gentle along the curve of his spine, barely even touching him anymore and he attempts to chase Leon when he leans back again, already missing the brush of lips against his own, the taste of him on his tongue.

He is already going mad with pleasure and he is about to demand Leon do something about it before he does it himself, but then, suddenly, he feels those same lips he was chasing press hot and wet against the base of his neck just where his prosthetic meets his spine and it barely takes a graze of teeth to the skin there before Sasha's vision goes white, body tensing all the way from the top of his spine to the soels of his feet.

A deep, guttural sound of pleasure falls from inbetween his lips, his hips buck again, once, twice, three times and he spends himself against the previously prestinely white fabric of the pillowcase beneath his hips, his fingers curl tight into the sheets and pillow beneath his head and he thinks he hears— he feels— seams rip beneath his nails as the force of his orgasm crashes over him.

For a few moments nothing seems to exist, and only after a short while if kaying there catching his breath dies Sasha's consciousness register what happened. He groans once more, this time a mixture of aftershocks of pleasure and the damning knowledge that he's come from nothing but a few touches to his back.

He barely dares to turn around and look at Leon, still shaking with the force of his orgasm when he props himself up on his forearms, he can feel his length still slightly slick from his own release, his chest rising and falling quickly with laboured breaths. Still dazed, he reaches out for Leon to have him press closer, pulling him in until they're back to chest, Leon's hardened length pressing up against the curve of Sasha's ass, his lips once more fit to the base of his neck.

Sasha just manages to bite back another low moan at the sensation. "Keep going." He breathes when he feels Leon slow down, pressure easing as if to pull away. Sasha barely recognizes his own voice with how deeply tinged with need it is. The fingers of one hand tangle with Leon's own, just long enough to pull them to his lips, first for a kiss, then to wrap his lips around Leon's index and middle finger. He runs his tongue along them, his mind feels like it's filled with cotton, but it hardly matters at this point. He pulls off to give Leon a heated look over his shoulder.

"I want—" He swallows thickly when the wirds come out raspy and like a whisper. "I need you to fuck me." he husks and there is no hiding the truth of that statement anymore. Sasha doesn't even feel like himself at this point, overcome with it as he is, consumed by his want. Uncaring of the slight discomfort caused by his spent cock rubbing against the fabric beneath his back arches naturally to feel Leon against him more.

"Please—"

[aureatescars]

With the merchant's mocking words still echoing in his ears Sasha takes the lead as they continue on their way, only to be halted by the gentle hand of his friend tangling in his fluffed up fur, smoothing it down gently and offering light pets and scratches behind his ear that have at least some tension melt from his form again. He leans into the touch and in a small moment of weakness he rubs his head against the young man's side in search of more contact. He huffs out a breath, selfishly allowing himself to enjoy the moment now that it is just them once more... Until he catches the scent of something ominous in the air, something vile and wrong. His companion doesn't seem to notice, but he does take note of the way Sasha tenses up once more, Sasha nudges his thigh then, they have to keep going. There is something lurking in the shadows, and he can feel it closing in on them already. His paws barely make a sound on uneven ground as he leads his friend, stopping every so often to make sure he's keeping up.

The foul stench of death that is carried on the wind gets stronger the further they make their way through the darkness. It does nothing to put Sasha's mind at ease and the wolf is tense, his muscles wound tight, ready to leap into action as soon as what has been stalking them reveals itself.

Unfortunately, it doesn't take long. A stick snaps nearby and the wolf pounces, jumping infront of Leon just in time to dig his teeth into a grotesquely elongated forearm, covered with dirtied fur, long fingers that end in dark claws. A screech sounds in the otherwise eery silence and the creature pulls away, winds itself out of Sasha's grasp, but not without him tearing a good chunk of flesh out of its arm. The blood on his tongue and teeth tastes just as wrong as the creature smells and when Sasha bares his teeth in a snarl the creature before him does the same, revealing dark gums that razor sharp fangs are protruding from.

The stare of red eyes bores into Sasha's golden ones and his heart sinks as he realizes what, or rather who he is facing.

The monster rights itself to full height then, builds itself up and up. Its form is massive, its torso covered in patchy fur that barely resembles the silken coat it once was. The snarl is wet and the stench of death gets worse now that the mutated werewolf heaves heavy breaths into his direction. Sasha places himself between his companion and the creature, the monster, the werewolf that, mutated as it is now is exactly the kind of horror that all the fairytales warn mundane people from.

He can smell the stench of death from it, but the parasite, too, Sasha can feel it tugging at the mental link thats between the filth, can feel the infection answer to the call of this... this thing.

It hurts. It burns. It's not a pack bond, it's not even what's left of it, it's a mere imitation, an insulting attempt to make him docile, to convince him to stop fighting. Sasha growls louder, makes himself bigger and gives the most guttural and dangerous snarl he can muster while his heart aches with the realization that this is what has become of his pack. This is all that's left.

He hears the young man move behind him, hears the telltale click of a gun's safety being turned off before shots fire into the monster, burrying into fur and muscle. It barely flinches. A waste of bullets. This won't do, if he stays he'll be torn to shreds. Sasha whips around and growls at the man, shoves at him to move, to run.

But he barely manages to get him out of the trajectory of the next attack before he has to turn back around to fight the creature. He circles around fast. He leaps and lands claws first on the wrewolf's back. He digs his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. The creature howls in pain. This, at least, it feels. Thick razor sharp claws reach back and dig into his fur and grab him, throwing him off. Sasha yelps when upon impact with a nearby tree pain rattles his form. But he sees the monster turn its attention back to his friend and immediately jumps between them once more, herding the man away, while never letting his eyes lose track of the enemy.

Run. He thinks with desperation and wishes he could somehow convey it, convince him to leave him behind. Sasha growls once more, teeth snapping at the werewolf when it dares to take another step towards them.

Please just run. Sasha thinks again. He can still hear the man behind him, breaths hunted and the scent of fear thick in the cold evening air.

I can't lose you.

He almost shifts back then, he almost drops all the pretense just to be able to shout at him to run, for God's sake! One more time Sasha intercepts an attack meant for his human companion and pays for it by taking a deep gash to his side by his claws. He doesn't let it deter him. This time he opts to throw his entire weight against the beast, tackling it to the ground to be able to pin it there. He gets thrown off, but immediately jumps back to try again. He goes for the throat next, but an arm stops him just in time. Teeth dig into the infected flesh of it once more instead. He can taste the dark veins, the black ooze of the parasite as it begins to make this thing even stronger. He has to provoke it further. He has to thoroughly distract it and hopefully lead it away from the man that's shown him so much kindness. Sasha looks up when movement catches his periphery, still pinning the monster best he can with teeth and claw.

Gold meets blue, and for one fraction of a moment there is only them, only that connection he has tried so hard to convince himself isn't there, that can't be there, but then Sasha thinks that he sees something like understanding flicker through the man's expression. He gets it.

He saved him.

And Sasha intends to do the same in turn.

The wolf follows his friend's example and gets to his feet with a big stretch and a shake of his fur. He keeps close to him as he takes a look at the merchant's wares, conversing with him, not friendly per se, but civil and while Sasha doesn't trust the man behind the table he can at the very least appreciate the support he offers. Even though he doesn't seem quite able to keep his mouth shut.

Sasha has to give a low growl when the merchant once again alludes to the wolf being something more than the eye can see, only to have the audacity to have his eyes crinkle with amusement when he meets his gaze and the wolf presses closer to his companion when he feels his hand on the back of his neck, running his fingers through the thick fur. His attention shifts to the man gently petting him. The furrow of his brow indicating the amount of questions he likely has about what Sasha is.

The growl subsides and the wolf shrinks under the gaze of bright blue eyes. Sasha forces himself to pull away, to fight down this protective— no, possessive streak of his wolf. But it's not enough to keep himself from nosing at the man's hand and have his tongue briefly dart out to touch skin in a show of submission. Much to the amusement of the merchant it seems, who laughs out loud at the display. The wolf's ears pin back and Sasha wants to sink into the ground with embarrassment at the lack of proper control.

He's spent too long as a wolf, his thoughts are muddled with instincts and it doesn't help that the person who saved him seems to be exactly what his wolf was looking for in terms of safety and affection. The wolf settles back down in the corner, still keeping a watchful eye on the happenings in the room, but Sasha forces himself to stay away while business is conducted. His place is not at the man's side, no matter how much he wishes it was.

It doesn't take too long for weapons, ammunition and money to change ownership after that and before he knows it his friend is headed for the door of the hideout and the wolf eagerly joins him when the young man looks back at him to indicate that they're leaving.

"Save travels." Rasps the voice of the merchant when they depart. "I hear all kinds of creatures come out to play in the moonlight." Sasha freezes. His ears pin back once again and stay that way as his friend turns back to raise a brow at the merchant. "Come on, mate. You know there is never just one wolf, right?"

Sasha's fur at the scruff of his neck stands up at the words, his claws dig deeper into the dirt as the door falls shut behind them and his instinct has him reach out into the night, looking for the pack bond he is painfully aware his no longer there. He holds his nose into the wind, angles his ears, searching for a sign, for anything that might suggest he is wrong in thinking they're all gone... But he senses nothing besides a hollow, painful emptiness that's been weighing on his mind for weeks. But it's not just this that has him shy away from feeling for his pack, but rather the echoes, the shadows of what used to be there and a burning hunger, bloodthirsty and violent.

No, there is never just one wolf.

But whatever is out there now, is no longer like him.

[aureatescars]

Sasha groans again shortly after, flushed face burried in the pillow to hide the mixture of shame and arousal that persists when Leon's hands work to reduce him to a whimpering mess. He's pretty certain that this is not supposed to feel this intense. Every little touch of Leon's fingertips against the skin around the small metal plates fused to his back has Sasha bite down on his lower lip to keep from letting out sounds of pleasure. The tension from before melts away, but so do Sasha's inhibitions and it doesn't take much for his body to crave more than what Leon is currently giving.

His hips roll into the pillow tucked under him and even just this has him see stars when Leon digs his fingers into the muscles of his lower back, causing sensation to radiate up and down his spine. Sasha's fingers curl into the remaining pillow, his face still hidden within the soft fabric. But he has to turn his head to breathe, to pant his arousal harshly into the dimly lit room.

His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed deeply crimson. He barely has enough faculties left to be embarrassed by his body's reaction and they're snuffed out entirely when Leon leans forward, to kiss him so sweetly that it seems to physically hurt. Sasha's body gives a violent shiver at the contact, feeling Leon's hand gentle along the curve of his spine, barely even touching him anymore and he attempts to chase Leon when he leans back again, already missing the brush of lips against his own, the taste of him on his tongue.

He is already going mad with pleasure and he is about to demand Leon do something about it before he does it himself, but then, suddenly, he feels those same lips he was chasing press hot and wet against the base of his neck just where his prosthetic meets his spine and it barely takes a graze of teeth to the skin there before Sasha's vision goes white, body tensing all the way from the top of his spine to the soels of his feet.

A deep, guttural sound of pleasure falls from inbetween his lips, his hips buck again, once, twice, three times and he spends himself against the previously prestinely white fabric of the pillowcase beneath his hips, his fingers curl tight into the sheets and pillow beneath his head and he thinks he hears— he feels— seams rip beneath his nails as the force of his orgasm crashes over him.

For a few moments nothing seems to exist, and only after a short while if kaying there catching his breath dies Sasha's consciousness register what happened. He groans once more, this time a mixture of aftershocks of pleasure and the damning knowledge that he's come from nothing but a few touches to his back.

He barely dares to turn around and look at Leon, still shaking with the force of his orgasm when he props himself up on his forearms, he can feel his length still slightly slick from his own release, his chest rising and falling quickly with laboured breaths. Still dazed, he reaches out for Leon to have him press closer, pulling him in until they're back to chest, Leon's hardened length pressing up against the curve of Sasha's ass, his lips once more fit to the base of his neck.

Sasha just manages to bite back another low moan at the sensation. "Keep going." He breathes when he feels Leon slow down, pressure easing as if to pull away. Sasha barely recognizes his own voice with how deeply tinged with need it is. The fingers of one hand tangle with Leon's own, just long enough to pull them to his lips, first for a kiss, then to wrap his lips around Leon's index and middle finger. He runs his tongue along them, his mind feels like it's filled with cotton, but it hardly matters at this point. He pulls off to give Leon a heated look over his shoulder.

"I want—" He swallows thickly when the wirds come out raspy and like a whisper. "I need you to fuck me." he husks and there is no hiding the truth of that statement anymore. Sasha doesn't even feel like himself at this point, overcome with it as he is, consumed by his want. Uncaring of the slight discomfort caused by his spent cock rubbing against the fabric beneath his back arches naturally to feel Leon against him more.

"Please—"

It feels so easy to get lost in this each time. Leon's voice, his words, his touches all dragging Sasha deeper and deeper into what he already knows will end up being something he will never be able to let go again. Leon's words, the note of possessiveness within them twists something inside of him, something that wants to demand this from him, despite knowing of his reservations. Yes, he wants to say. Yes, for you, and no one else. Because Leon must feel it, too. This overwhelming pull, the need to be close to touch, to feel him close. But Sasha isn't strong enough to stop and consider any proper conversation about this. Even under normal circumstances he's already hard pressed to find words to put to the things he's feeling and whatever their reunion and the following hours instilled in him is beyond words, beyond reasoning.

But what does it matter? He thinks selfishly. What does it matter if they're falling head first into something like this? Tomorrow is uncertain, the outcome of the mission is uncertain and Sasha wants to live in the moment more than ever, he doesn't want to consider what might lie in the future any longer. Not when he's seen the spark in Leon's eyes dim at every mention of later, of after this, of in the future. He just wants to hold on to this, he wants to make Leon happy most of all, because he has gotten a taste of that happiness today and he physically aches when thinking about how he might not be able to guarantee this once this day passes.

Sasha presses close, takes Leon down best he can, enjoying every sound and flex of his muscles beneath his touch when he reaches to pull him closer by the back of his thighs, shuddering when Leon's nails drag across his scalp and send a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

His eyes blink open, pupils blown for the dark to swallow up the amber within his irises and what he sees makes his own need grow deeper still. His lover flushed, his gaze darkened and his hair disheveled already from just the beginnings of Sasha's clumsy attempt to make him feel good, clearly not minding his inexperience at all.

Sasha drags his lips over Leon's length, a small sound escapes him when he tastes the first trace of Leon's pleasure. Again, he thinks about what he'd asked of him earlier and even just the thought has him shift to alleviate the insistent pressure of his own arousal against his slacks. He's barely able to choke back a gasp when this causes friction that just distantly imitates a proper touch and he pulls off, to be able to breathe, dizzy with the thoughts of more dancing behind closed eyelids as he presses his forehead to Leon's hip, feeling the fabric of the expensive suit pants against his skin.

He takes a few shuddering breaths, then steels himself to look up at Leon again. He's still the same vision as before, beautiful in every sense of the word and Sasha wants. He wants. Wants to be his undoing and be undone in turn. And this resolve is just enough to calm the flutter of his heart and keep him rising to unsteady feet. He looks down at Leon, at his arousal still glistening with his spit and precum pearling at the top. Sasha swallows thickly, tempted to throw his plans out of the window and just finish what he started, but instead he moves to shrug off his jacket and undoes his vest and shirt beneath, his chest now bare as he shrugs the pieces of clothing off to be forgotten on the floor. His hands find Leon's waist, then roam up his body to either side of his neck to pull him in. Another kiss, deep and wanting and full of promises Sasha intends to keep, whether it be tonight or tomorrow or any day after.

He takes a step backward, moves unto the bed and pulls Leon with him until he can feel his weight atop of him. His hips buck involuntary as even through the remaining material of his clothes he can feel Leon's need against his own. They keep kissing, and Sasha's never felt more wanted than he does right now.

However, uncertainty creeps in then, about how to proceed, how to ask for Leon to take over because Sasha doesn't think he has enough mental capacity left to do anything but succumb. It was so easy the day before, they fell into this, have fallen into it a number of times since. It was Sasha who laid it out that he wants to feel Leon in the same way, and he still does, but there is a lingering sense of pride that has him curse and tense and suddenly it's shame that flushes his cheeks and he tips his head back to be able to breathe when his lower back begins to hurt as muscles work around the artificial vertebrae, making his back ache.

It takes him a moment to calm his breathing and untense the line of his shoulders. "Just a moment—" He says, clearly unhappy with himself as he avoids Leon's gaze from the moment he sees the first hint of concern in bright blue eyes. He feels Leon pull away and instinct has him reach out and curl a hand around one of Leon's wrist. "Don't stop." He breathes. "I'll be fine..."

[aureatescars]

Sasha makes a sound close to an amused huff. "Fine, then I am the one that needs more clothes." He shoots back and then shoves the nearly empty water bottle back at Leon with enough force to cause him to exhale on a suprised breath when it hits him in the abdomen. Leon's expression is enough reason for slight amusement to make way for a genuine smile. "And I am happy to lend them to you, as long as it spares me from listening to you shiver and watching you pout at the weather."

They banter back and forth while making their way inside and Sasha doesn't think about how easy maintaining his smile and good mood is anymore and simply lets himself enjoy it. He even perks up and raises an eyebrow at Leon when he suggests one of his own favorites for dinner, accompanied by that same smugness that once upon a time made Sasha want to punch him. Right now, however, what he is feeling is far from aggravation. "Challenge accepted."

And thus, Sasha drags Leon across the entire store to pick up all he will need for a dish that he loved to eat growing up. Befstroganov, as he explains to Leon. A hearty beef stew. He distantly remembers his grandmother making this for their small family, until she got too old and her hands too shaky to cook much. From the on his mother was the one to keep up the tradition of making this for them, ultimately teaching Sasha how to cook as well.

It's best accompanied by some fresh egg noodles, or more traditionally by grechka: buckweat groats. When Leon asks why Sasha doesn't want to make those instead, he can't quite contain the flush of embarrassment dusting his cheeks and ears. "Because I don't like grechka." His nose scrunches up, his voice small. "Too chewy."

The genuine laugh he startles out of Leon with that near childish display of dislike is enough to chase any unpleasant memory about being scolded for not appreciating traditional Eastern Slavic food from his mind and he moves on to collect everything needed to make fresh egg noodles as well, determined to prove that he knows what he's talking about.

They spend a surprising amount of time in the store, with Sasha explaining some of the things Leon doesn't recognize from American supermarkets and him teaching Leon a few words for everyday items... or attempting to. His very American way of pronouncing the words has him chuckle, but he can appreciate the fact that his friend is trying.

By the time they make it back to the cash register they've picked up enough groceries, to not only last them for tonight but potentially until the end of the week. They even had to go back and get a proper shopping cart while they came up with a meal plan for the next few days, and a sweater or two for the both of them, as well as a proper warm jacket for Leon.

And if they ended up with a variety of snacks and a few good bottles of booze to enjoy, who is to judge them?

"Let me get this one." Sasha says, catching Leon's hand before the other man can reach for his wallet. His touch lingers long enough to meet Leon's eyes, determined to at least do this. It's also long enough to find that Leon's hands are warm, and the thought has something settle inside Sasha's mind, pleased and content.

Sasha pulls away, tilting his head slightly. "You can get the next." He adds, indicating he doesn't mean to pick a fight.

Sasha doesn't even notice he's making a face until Leon calls him out on it. Then, he sighs and makes an effort to smooth out the wrinkle between his brows. "It's been an eventful day," he says, trying and failing not to sound too defensive. "I forgot to take the last one when I was supposed to." Which at this point was several hours ago. He shifts in his seat, sinking a little lower. He's not looking at Leon, but rather keeping his eyes on the road.

He's been bad about taking the pain medication when needed during his time at the hospital, more often than not preferring pain over the overall more stark numbness that came with the moment the painkillers take effect, and they've argued about this back at the hospital more than once. Admittedly, they've argued about quite a lot of things during their time together. Leon does have a way of getting under his skin, Sasha was made aware of that from the moment they met.

However, Sasha is not trying to pick a fight here and neither is Leon, that much Sasha can discern from the genuine concern that underlies his offer. So, Sasha forgoes any deflection that sits on the tip of his tongue and then nods. The thought of going maybe another few hours without something to at least alleviate the discomfort not something he wants to entertain after everything he's been through today; that they have been through. Leon shouldn't have to deal with him being irritated by something easily avoidable.

An odd sense of warmth overcomes him at the thought that Leon cares enough to ask where previously it's only ever been a source of annoyance for Sasha. It's closely followed by the awareness that Leon knows him well enough to notice things like this now, however, Sasha isn't entirely sure what to make of that just yet. But with Leon constantly reminding him that it's alright to rely on him — that it's mandatory even for all of this to work in the first place — Sasha's finally inclined to believe him.

So, he folds and casts his senseless pride aside. "But yeah... that's probably a good idea."

It's then that he turns to look at Leon, studying his profile for a moment. He still isn't entirely certain how he feels about everything that has happened today, or how he'll ever repay Leon for all he has done and the fact that he is willing to put up with everything Sasha's thrown at him, consciously or not.

Sasha ultimately looks back out the window, thinking back to the first time they met. He inspects the way Leon's entire demeanor made his blood boil back then and how everything he found aggravating has become something of an endearing quality instead. His snark, his attitude and smile, his way of pushing Sasha where he really doesn't want to go. He turns it all over in his head, inspects it from every angle. He doesn't yet dare to hold all he is feeling about it up to the light. But there is no denying Leon's changed him in the short time they've known eachother and Sasha can't help but compare him to the only other person that ever truly challenged him in this way...

He ends up smiling at the memory of her and that is maybe the biggest surprise of all. For the first time in forever his heart doesn't ache with that same loneliness he felt each time a stray thought led him back to the memory of her.

She would have liked you. He thinks quietly to himself.

The smile on his face doesn't fade until they reach their destination. When Leon goes to fetch his wheelchair Sasha's gaze is drawn to the horizon where dark clouds are gathering. It's still too warm for snow to start falling anytime soon, even higher up as they are in this region, which likely means that they're in for some heavy rain later in the evening. He'd rather be back at the cabin by the time it starts.

Leon brings him the chair and a bottle of water alongside the promised painkillers. Sasha takes them and with that they're off to the store. Sasha glances up at Leon when he sees him shiver from the corner of his eye. "We should get you some warmer clothes," he says as he takes in the way Leon is ducking into his sweater as the wind picks up around them, pulling the too long sleeves over his hands. It almost strikes him as cute how he is drowning in Sasha's sweater. "We're not due for it just yet, but winter hits hard and sudden around here."

[aureatescars]

The wolf follows his friend's example and gets to his feet with a big stretch and a shake of his fur. He keeps close to him as he takes a look at the merchant's wares, conversing with him, not friendly per se, but civil and while Sasha doesn't trust the man behind the table he can at the very least appreciate the support he offers. Even though he doesn't seem quite able to keep his mouth shut.

Sasha has to give a low growl when the merchant once again alludes to the wolf being something more than the eye can see, only to have the audacity to have his eyes crinkle with amusement when he meets his gaze and the wolf presses closer to his companion when he feels his hand on the back of his neck, running his fingers through the thick fur. His attention shifts to the man gently petting him. The furrow of his brow indicating the amount of questions he likely has about what Sasha is.

The growl subsides and the wolf shrinks under the gaze of bright blue eyes. Sasha forces himself to pull away, to fight down this protective— no, possessive streak of his wolf. But it's not enough to keep himself from nosing at the man's hand and have his tongue briefly dart out to touch skin in a show of submission. Much to the amusement of the merchant it seems, who laughs out loud at the display. The wolf's ears pin back and Sasha wants to sink into the ground with embarrassment at the lack of proper control.

He's spent too long as a wolf, his thoughts are muddled with instincts and it doesn't help that the person who saved him seems to be exactly what his wolf was looking for in terms of safety and affection. The wolf settles back down in the corner, still keeping a watchful eye on the happenings in the room, but Sasha forces himself to stay away while business is conducted. His place is not at the man's side, no matter how much he wishes it was.

It doesn't take too long for weapons, ammunition and money to change ownership after that and before he knows it his friend is headed for the door of the hideout and the wolf eagerly joins him when the young man looks back at him to indicate that they're leaving.

"Save travels." Rasps the voice of the merchant when they depart. "I hear all kinds of creatures come out to play in the moonlight." Sasha freezes. His ears pin back once again and stay that way as his friend turns back to raise a brow at the merchant. "Come on, mate. You know there is never just one wolf, right?"

Sasha's fur at the scruff of his neck stands up at the words, his claws dig deeper into the dirt as the door falls shut behind them and his instinct has him reach out into the night, looking for the pack bond he is painfully aware his no longer there. He holds his nose into the wind, angles his ears, searching for a sign, for anything that might suggest he is wrong in thinking they're all gone... But he senses nothing besides a hollow, painful emptiness that's been weighing on his mind for weeks. But it's not just this that has him shy away from feeling for his pack, but rather the echoes, the shadows of what used to be there and a burning hunger, bloodthirsty and violent.

No, there is never just one wolf.

But whatever is out there now, is no longer like him.

It becomes apparent very quickly that they cannot stay here. Despite Sasha's best efforts the other man doesn't warm up as quickly as he'd like, he's shivering and pushing closer in his sleep, making small sounds of discomfort that tug painfully at Sasha's heart. He curls his arms tighter around him, debating whether he should shift back immediately and try warming him up with his wolf's fur or if he should instead scoop him up into his arms again and find a different hideout, maybe somewhere where he can start a fire... However, before he can come to a decision he hears footsteps nearby, far closer than he'd like. How has he not noted them earlier?

A figure steps around a corner and Sasha comes to a crouch infront of Leon, teeth already bared in a snarl, ready to shift and tear this stranger apart should he even attempt so much as another step into his friend's direction.

But what he is met with instead is a bout of laughter and a sharp, calculating gaze. He can't make out anything else, a mask and the hood of a dark coat obscure the man's appearance. But he smells just like the other Ganados, despite the strong scent of gunpowder and pungent herbs that cling to him. "No one wants your prize, little wolf." The stranger mocks and Sasha bristles further, taken aback by the fact that this man already knows what he is. Yes, he'd been ready to shift, but usually it takes people until he has already done it to realize what he is.

"What do you want?" He barks, still cautious despite the lack of open hostility from the other man. Sasha plants himself firmly between him and Leon's unconscious form. He doesn't trust this man. He doesn't smell right.

"Calm down. Your friend there is one if my best customers. Just making sure he won't die of hypothermia." He shrugs. "Bad for business." Then, he turns and gestures for him to follow. "Come on, shop's not far from here." Sasha is torn. But when he looks back at his friend and finds him still shivering, with his lips blue and hus face pale, he can no longer deny that staying here wasn't an option. He walks over and picks the other man up, his clothes are cold as well, still wet from the lake and clinging to his skin. The man's arms suddenly wind around him and Sasha freezes, already rooting around in his mind for a way to explain, but then he merely hears the other man mumbke something about a dream and hus hold goes slack a moment after. Some of the tension leaves Sasha's shoulders and he pulls him that much closer. The cold seeps into Sasha's bones as well, but it doesn't keep him from using his powers to attempt and take a bit more of the discomfort from him still.

His friend settles into his arms a little easier after that and it makes Sasha breathe out in a relieved sigh. Then he follows the stranger's scent down a dingy path and into a cave system close to the lake. Sasha wasn't aware this place existed until now and he carefully takes it all in. The way it seems to be built into the cave, a shelter made ftom wooden planks, rising up to the cave's ceiling. The soot of torches blackening it and making it appear higher than it is.

The man indicates a room, or whatever make-shift equivalent he's built for him to step into. Sasha hesitates, but another fullbody shiver from the man in his arms has him adjust his grip and walk further in. The first thing he notes is how warm it is in here. Warmth that can't only come from the torches put up throughout the cave. There must be some sort of source for heating around, but Sasha hasn't made it out just yet.

On an uneven and jagged table the stranger has a wide variety of weapons laid out, as well as the ammo to go with it. Explosives, knives, gun parts, he has it all. But none of which he offers to Sasha.

Instead, he points at a corner where some storage crates are stacked up and Sasha wanders over there to set Leon down, and when he does he hears the soft hum of pressurized air flowing through metal, and sure enough when he peeks behind one of the crates he notes pipes running along the ground and into the water. He furrows his brows, wondering where those might lead, but ultimately he decides he doesn't care. It's warm here. That's all that matters.

A moment later he hears footsteps once again and the stranger throws a blanket at him which Sasha quickly arranges over Leon's legs to keep him warm. Once he is done he looks up into Leon's face and takes in the slowly softening lines of discomfort. Sasha reaches out to brush some hair out of his face, the warm torchlight makes it so that the young man's features seem even more beautiful...

"Careful now, wouldn't want him to wake up and find out about your little secret now, would we?" Sasha realizes too late that he is softly growling. "Easy there, no need to get your fur all in a twist, aye?" Sasha glares at him. "Speaking of fur... You want some clothes? I'll make it a fair prize. No money, just a favor—"

"I'm fine." Sasha shoots back. He'll not be making deals with someone who's smell has his wolf's hackles raise. Not unless he absolutely has to, that is. "I don't plan to stay like this." He tells him and moves to sit beside his friend again.

"Suit yourself. But something tells me soldier boy over here will not take lightly to extended bits of deception... You might want to look out for any silver bullets in your future." The merchant laughs in a way that makes the hair on the back of Sasha's neck stand up. He follows him with his eyes as the merchant moves behind his table of wares and then slowly allows himself to let his wolf take over again. The shift is quick, if still painful, but Sasha already feels better by the time the wolf's instincts wrap his consciousness up and have him shuffle close to the man still asleep on the floor. He puts his head atop the man's thigh, looking up at his sleeping face for a moment before he closes his eyes in an attempt to get some rest as well.

His ears flick whenever the merchant moves, but his footsteps remain reassuringly distant. His words, however, keep echoing in Sasha's mind. He knows he's right. His kind only ever have instilled fear in humans, it's why they live among humans as them, it's why they conceal their true nature. He has seen this man kill other monsters without hesitation, why then would he stop and listen to an explanation when faced with the likes of Sasha?

So, it's likely still best to keep his true nature concealed. Have him think he is but a mere wolf. At least like this he can attempt to protect him still, keep him safe, steal little moments like this in which he can pretend that there is something that even just barely resembles a bond— and if the ruse ultimately is discovered...

... Sasha will happily accept the silver bullet.

[aureatescars]

It feels so easy to get lost in this each time. Leon's voice, his words, his touches all dragging Sasha deeper and deeper into what he already knows will end up being something he will never be able to let go again. Leon's words, the note of possessiveness within them twists something inside of him, something that wants to demand this from him, despite knowing of his reservations. Yes, he wants to say. Yes, for you, and no one else. Because Leon must feel it, too. This overwhelming pull, the need to be close to touch, to feel him close. But Sasha isn't strong enough to stop and consider any proper conversation about this. Even under normal circumstances he's already hard pressed to find words to put to the things he's feeling and whatever their reunion and the following hours instilled in him is beyond words, beyond reasoning.

But what does it matter? He thinks selfishly. What does it matter if they're falling head first into something like this? Tomorrow is uncertain, the outcome of the mission is uncertain and Sasha wants to live in the moment more than ever, he doesn't want to consider what might lie in the future any longer. Not when he's seen the spark in Leon's eyes dim at every mention of later, of after this, of in the future. He just wants to hold on to this, he wants to make Leon happy most of all, because he has gotten a taste of that happiness today and he physically aches when thinking about how he might not be able to guarantee this once this day passes.

Sasha presses close, takes Leon down best he can, enjoying every sound and flex of his muscles beneath his touch when he reaches to pull him closer by the back of his thighs, shuddering when Leon's nails drag across his scalp and send a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

His eyes blink open, pupils blown for the dark to swallow up the amber within his irises and what he sees makes his own need grow deeper still. His lover flushed, his gaze darkened and his hair disheveled already from just the beginnings of Sasha's clumsy attempt to make him feel good, clearly not minding his inexperience at all.

Sasha drags his lips over Leon's length, a small sound escapes him when he tastes the first trace of Leon's pleasure. Again, he thinks about what he'd asked of him earlier and even just the thought has him shift to alleviate the insistent pressure of his own arousal against his slacks. He's barely able to choke back a gasp when this causes friction that just distantly imitates a proper touch and he pulls off, to be able to breathe, dizzy with the thoughts of more dancing behind closed eyelids as he presses his forehead to Leon's hip, feeling the fabric of the expensive suit pants against his skin.

He takes a few shuddering breaths, then steels himself to look up at Leon again. He's still the same vision as before, beautiful in every sense of the word and Sasha wants. He wants. Wants to be his undoing and be undone in turn. And this resolve is just enough to calm the flutter of his heart and keep him rising to unsteady feet. He looks down at Leon, at his arousal still glistening with his spit and precum pearling at the top. Sasha swallows thickly, tempted to throw his plans out of the window and just finish what he started, but instead he moves to shrug off his jacket and undoes his vest and shirt beneath, his chest now bare as he shrugs the pieces of clothing off to be forgotten on the floor. His hands find Leon's waist, then roam up his body to either side of his neck to pull him in. Another kiss, deep and wanting and full of promises Sasha intends to keep, whether it be tonight or tomorrow or any day after.

He takes a step backward, moves unto the bed and pulls Leon with him until he can feel his weight atop of him. His hips buck involuntary as even through the remaining material of his clothes he can feel Leon's need against his own. They keep kissing, and Sasha's never felt more wanted than he does right now.

However, uncertainty creeps in then, about how to proceed, how to ask for Leon to take over because Sasha doesn't think he has enough mental capacity left to do anything but succumb. It was so easy the day before, they fell into this, have fallen into it a number of times since. It was Sasha who laid it out that he wants to feel Leon in the same way, and he still does, but there is a lingering sense of pride that has him curse and tense and suddenly it's shame that flushes his cheeks and he tips his head back to be able to breathe when his lower back begins to hurt as muscles work around the artificial vertebrae, making his back ache.

It takes him a moment to calm his breathing and untense the line of his shoulders. "Just a moment—" He says, clearly unhappy with himself as he avoids Leon's gaze from the moment he sees the first hint of concern in bright blue eyes. He feels Leon pull away and instinct has him reach out and curl a hand around one of Leon's wrist. "Don't stop." He breathes. "I'll be fine..."

Sasha takes a look through the small, but expensive liquor collection the hotel offers. The mini bar houses vodka and two cream based liqueurs Sasha isn't overly keen on trying, but the tray on top does provide a reasonably sized bottle of whiskey. Sasha isn't much of a whiskey drinker himself, in fact, apart from the vodka they drank the day before it's been quite some time since he indulged in any sort of liquor. This was mostly due to the fact that he spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals, but also for the lack of someone to drink with.

Thus, he sets the glasses down and pulls the bottle of whiskey from the tray, filling them with a rough two fingers' worth into each. His back his turned towards Leon while he does this, but hearing the sounds of Leon getting dressed still has something hot and simmering curl in his gutt. He sets the bottle aside and takes a glass in each hand to return to Leon. He's ready to explain he hasn't tasted this one before, and thus he is not taking any responsibility for the way it tastes, but his words die on his tongue when he lays eyes on Leon again.

It seems his entire demeanor shifted within the last few minutes. He's standing up straighter, shoulders broad and his expression satisfied with what he is seeing as he takes himself in. Sasha can see the way Leon's lips curl, his eyes bright with self-confidence in a way Sasha had only briefly seen just after their first ride on the motorcycles, but now Leon seems to radiate it.

Leon turns around and Sasha's mouth goes dry, somehow his eyes are that much more blue now, his smile a brilliant line of teeth and Sasha nearly chokes when Leon first does a turn, showing off how well the suit hugs every part of him and then brushes his hair back in a fluid motion that makes him look effortlessly attractive.

He knows it, too, from the way he looks at Sasha and Sasha doesn't even mind the way Leon can read him so easily. Sasha takes a startled breath when his instincts suddenly catch up with his thoughts and his body remembers that it needs to breathe in order to function. It still doesn't help much when Sasha actually takes a breath. He feels near dizzy with how much he wants Leon, the constant hum of his blood rising to a steady roar in his ears when Leon tilts his head at him and one of the hickeys Sasha left earlier peeks out from his collar.

Sasha doesn't think, but he doesn't immediately pounce on Leon either. Instead, he downs one of the glasses in one go before setting it down on the nearby table. The burn of the liquor in the back of his throat is just enough to keep him grounded, but the sensation is fading fast. Then, he slowly and deliberately walks closer, his eyes never leaving Leon's. The only sign of his wavering control is the fact that he is holding the other whiskey glass so tightly that his fingers are trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

He stops right in front of Leon and then holds the remaining glass out to him. He watches as Leon takes it from him, eyes briefly following the motion, fingers briefly brushing, before his eyes get trapped by Leon's gaze once more as Leon guides the glass to his lips. Sasha exhales long and drawn out as he watches Leon drink, his throat working around the whiskey, his lips glistening with moisture after his tongue darts out to taste the residue. Sasha doesn't know if it's deliberate or just something Leon does out of the force of habit, but it doesn't matter, because either way Sasha is helpless against the effect it has on him.

There is likely something very wrong about the way his mind goes completely blank with want while seeing this, and certainly a lot more to say about how Leon shouldn't have this effect on him, not after one day, nor at any point after. Sasha shouldn't completely forget himself just because of this. But there is something primal within himself that needs to touch now, to taste, that can no longer be held back.

He takes the glass from Leon's hand before he can fully drain it of its contents, having taken a teasing sip rather than tossing it back entirely as Sasha did. Sasha sees Leon's brow furrow in confusion, but the only manner of explanation Sasha manages in turn is a brief kiss to Leon's open palm before he drops to his knees. He sets the glass down on the floor and then his hands reach up to undo Leon's slacks.

"It's perfect," Sasha says breathlessly while he works his pants open, looking up at Leon wearing this beautiful suit. "You are—" But he trails off before can repeat the sentiment again. He gets distracted when his fingers brush against Leon's semi-hardened length through the expensive fabric, and just a moment later Sasha pulls him free, pupils going wide before his eyes flutter shut when he leans in to run his tongue along the entire length of Leon, shivering when he feels him become harder beneath his touch.

[aureatescars]

Sasha takes a look through the small, but expensive liquor collection the hotel offers. The mini bar houses vodka and two cream based liqueurs Sasha isn't overly keen on trying, but the tray on top does provide a reasonably sized bottle of whiskey. Sasha isn't much of a whiskey drinker himself, in fact, apart from the vodka they drank the day before it's been quite some time since he indulged in any sort of liquor. This was mostly due to the fact that he spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals, but also for the lack of someone to drink with.

Thus, he sets the glasses down and pulls the bottle of whiskey from the tray, filling them with a rough two fingers' worth into each. His back his turned towards Leon while he does this, but hearing the sounds of Leon getting dressed still has something hot and simmering curl in his gutt. He sets the bottle aside and takes a glass in each hand to return to Leon. He's ready to explain he hasn't tasted this one before, and thus he is not taking any responsibility for the way it tastes, but his words die on his tongue when he lays eyes on Leon again.

It seems his entire demeanor shifted within the last few minutes. He's standing up straighter, shoulders broad and his expression satisfied with what he is seeing as he takes himself in. Sasha can see the way Leon's lips curl, his eyes bright with self-confidence in a way Sasha had only briefly seen just after their first ride on the motorcycles, but now Leon seems to radiate it.

Leon turns around and Sasha's mouth goes dry, somehow his eyes are that much more blue now, his smile a brilliant line of teeth and Sasha nearly chokes when Leon first does a turn, showing off how well the suit hugs every part of him and then brushes his hair back in a fluid motion that makes him look effortlessly attractive.

He knows it, too, from the way he looks at Sasha and Sasha doesn't even mind the way Leon can read him so easily. Sasha takes a startled breath when his instincts suddenly catch up with his thoughts and his body remembers that it needs to breathe in order to function. It still doesn't help much when Sasha actually takes a breath. He feels near dizzy with how much he wants Leon, the constant hum of his blood rising to a steady roar in his ears when Leon tilts his head at him and one of the hickeys Sasha left earlier peeks out from his collar.

Sasha doesn't think, but he doesn't immediately pounce on Leon either. Instead, he downs one of the glasses in one go before setting it down on the nearby table. The burn of the liquor in the back of his throat is just enough to keep him grounded, but the sensation is fading fast. Then, he slowly and deliberately walks closer, his eyes never leaving Leon's. The only sign of his wavering control is the fact that he is holding the other whiskey glass so tightly that his fingers are trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

He stops right in front of Leon and then holds the remaining glass out to him. He watches as Leon takes it from him, eyes briefly following the motion, fingers briefly brushing, before his eyes get trapped by Leon's gaze once more as Leon guides the glass to his lips. Sasha exhales long and drawn out as he watches Leon drink, his throat working around the whiskey, his lips glistening with moisture after his tongue darts out to taste the residue. Sasha doesn't know if it's deliberate or just something Leon does out of the force of habit, but it doesn't matter, because either way Sasha is helpless against the effect it has on him.

There is likely something very wrong about the way his mind goes completely blank with want while seeing this, and certainly a lot more to say about how Leon shouldn't have this effect on him, not after one day, nor at any point after. Sasha shouldn't completely forget himself just because of this. But there is something primal within himself that needs to touch now, to taste, that can no longer be held back.

He takes the glass from Leon's hand before he can fully drain it of its contents, having taken a teasing sip rather than tossing it back entirely as Sasha did. Sasha sees Leon's brow furrow in confusion, but the only manner of explanation Sasha manages in turn is a brief kiss to Leon's open palm before he drops to his knees. He sets the glass down on the floor and then his hands reach up to undo Leon's slacks.

"It's perfect," Sasha says breathlessly while he works his pants open, looking up at Leon wearing this beautiful suit. "You are—" But he trails off before can repeat the sentiment again. He gets distracted when his fingers brush against Leon's semi-hardened length through the expensive fabric, and just a moment later Sasha pulls him free, pupils going wide before his eyes flutter shut when he leans in to run his tongue along the entire length of Leon, shivering when he feels him become harder beneath his touch.

Sasha reluctantly pulls away when Leon bids him to, and then moves to settle on the long edge of the bed, his expression briefly pinching when a little twinge of discomfort in his lower back reminds him that it's been a long day. But he won't let this deter him from enjoying his time with Leon, least of all when he makes such an effort to capture his attention with his movements.

Sasha can't help the small laugh and is glad to find that Leon seens just as amused. Sasha still wishes he could touch him, and frankly Leon undressing and him putting on the first suit have similar effects on Sasha. Dressed or undressed, Leon is a sight to behold. A work of art, even with marks of a life spent serving as an agent fighting B.O.W.s painting his body. Sasha would go as far as saying that it makes him more beautiful somehow, seeing such a big part of his story clear as day on his skin.

Sasha wants to put his lips to all if his scars, wants to learn of the events tied to each one. Leon pulls on a dresshirt and vest before he shrugs on the first suit jacket and Sasha's thoughts dissipate. Sasha didn't have any doubt that Leon would look incredible in all of the suits, but at this point that may as well be personal bias speaking.

Sasha ends up smiling at the thought. "You make anything look good," he says, tone just this side of teasing, but he does mean it. He gestures for Leon to do a little turn and smiles wider when Leon actually does. "Very dashing." Sasha comments and relishes the amused huff he gets in return. "But I'm not sure this is quite what we're going for."

His fingers itch to touch when Leon begins taking the suit off again, but he just manages to stay put. He averts his eyes to the two suits that remain. "How about this one next?" He suggests and points at the light grey suit. He looks back up and waits for Leon to oblige. Leon opts to keep the shirt on for the next suit, but he undoes the pants and lets them fall, stepping out of them before bending over to pick them up. He's still facing Sasha, but the mirror is right behind him, so Sasha still gets a splendid view of his ass as he bends down.

It must show on his face, because when he looks back up he is met with a knowing look. At this point Sasha doesn't even try to pretend that he didn't blatantly stare. Instead, he shrugs and mirrors the smirk on Leon's face. "What can I say, you're distracting." A statement that is all but emphasized by the fact that his gaze strays down once again, just as Leon is about to zip up the next pair of pants, this time taking in the front of his lover with an appreciative look. His offer from before enters Sasha's mind again and he licks his lips, his gaze darkens, want flaring up once more.

In the end, it's this thought that has him get back up. He takes a few steps toward Leon and despite himself pulls him into a surprisingly gentle kiss. He doesn't push for more just yet, but lulls away just in time to not give in to the urge to cut this little dressup game short.

"I'll go fetch us a drink." He says then, breathing a little heavier than intended. "Seems I won't be able to keep my hands off of you unless I keep myself occupied." And with that he pulls away and heads towards the mini bar at the other end of the room, picking up two glasses from the top.

[aureatescars]

Sasha reluctantly pulls away when Leon bids him to, and then moves to settle on the long edge of the bed, his expression briefly pinching when a little twinge of discomfort in his lower back reminds him that it's been a long day. But he won't let this deter him from enjoying his time with Leon, least of all when he makes such an effort to capture his attention with his movements.

Sasha can't help the small laugh and is glad to find that Leon seens just as amused. Sasha still wishes he could touch him, and frankly Leon undressing and him putting on the first suit have similar effects on Sasha. Dressed or undressed, Leon is a sight to behold. A work of art, even with marks of a life spent serving as an agent fighting B.O.W.s painting his body. Sasha would go as far as saying that it makes him more beautiful somehow, seeing such a big part of his story clear as day on his skin.

Sasha wants to put his lips to all if his scars, wants to learn of the events tied to each one. Leon pulls on a dresshirt and vest before he shrugs on the first suit jacket and Sasha's thoughts dissipate. Sasha didn't have any doubt that Leon would look incredible in all of the suits, but at this point that may as well be personal bias speaking.

Sasha ends up smiling at the thought. "You make anything look good," he says, tone just this side of teasing, but he does mean it. He gestures for Leon to do a little turn and smiles wider when Leon actually does. "Very dashing." Sasha comments and relishes the amused huff he gets in return. "But I'm not sure this is quite what we're going for."

His fingers itch to touch when Leon begins taking the suit off again, but he just manages to stay put. He averts his eyes to the two suits that remain. "How about this one next?" He suggests and points at the light grey suit. He looks back up and waits for Leon to oblige. Leon opts to keep the shirt on for the next suit, but he undoes the pants and lets them fall, stepping out of them before bending over to pick them up. He's still facing Sasha, but the mirror is right behind him, so Sasha still gets a splendid view of his ass as he bends down.

It must show on his face, because when he looks back up he is met with a knowing look. At this point Sasha doesn't even try to pretend that he didn't blatantly stare. Instead, he shrugs and mirrors the smirk on Leon's face. "What can I say, you're distracting." A statement that is all but emphasized by the fact that his gaze strays down once again, just as Leon is about to zip up the next pair of pants, this time taking in the front of his lover with an appreciative look. His offer from before enters Sasha's mind again and he licks his lips, his gaze darkens, want flaring up once more.

In the end, it's this thought that has him get back up. He takes a few steps toward Leon and despite himself pulls him into a surprisingly gentle kiss. He doesn't push for more just yet, but lulls away just in time to not give in to the urge to cut this little dressup game short.

"I'll go fetch us a drink." He says then, breathing a little heavier than intended. "Seems I won't be able to keep my hands off of you unless I keep myself occupied." And with that he pulls away and heads towards the mini bar at the other end of the room, picking up two glasses from the top.

Sasha has developed quite the habit of getting lost in Leon's eyes, so it takes him a bit to pull himself out of his quiet moment of awe. "Ah... Y-Yes, we should head back before it gets too late..." He huffs a breath at his own smitten state and then waves the waitress back over to pay for their food. He leaves a generous tip that has the waitress smile widely at him and he reciprocates with a warm smile of his own as they say their goodbyes.

He has to fight the urge to reach for Leon's hand as they make their way back to their bikes and it's only due to the fact that he chooses to put his helmet on a bit earlier than necessary that they aren't pressed against eachother as soon as they're out of sight from other people. Sasha still thinks that it's probably for the best that he keeps his hands to himself, at least if they still want to accomplish anything of value today. If Leon notices his poor attempt at staying focused he doesn't comment on it, which strikes him as odd, given that Sasha had caught him so thoroughly off guard earlier. At the very least he expected a small retaliation—

Except, Leon doesn't exactly need to say or do anything to tie Sasha's gutt into knots of anticipation. Just one look out of the opened visor of Leon's helmet before he snaps it shut has Sasha's mouth go dry with the certainty that he has not forgotten what Sasha offered earlier. And even just the thought of it has his heart beat faster and his legs feel a bit unsteady.

The way back to the hotel seems to go by faster and yet at the same time somehow slower than the way to the restaurant earlier. It's just as thrilling, just as electrifying to watch Leon lean into each curve of the road and Sasha can't shake the feeling that this is how they were supposed to be for a lot longer than either of them realized. He gets lost in the feeling for a bit. Together. Side by side. It's a mad and unreasonably romanticized notion that overcomes him suddenly, but not for the first time. He shakes the thought best he can, it's not the time for it, and instead he decides once again to take things as they are, as they come. Second by second, minute by minute. But if he pulls Leon into another kiss after they arrive at the hotel because he is endeared by his flushed cheeks and messy helmet hair rather than aroused by the knowledge of what is to come once they make it upstairs he doesn't have to say it in as many words for it to be true ...

Still, it is hard to deny that Sasha's mind is turning the thought of having Leon, or rather being had by him, over in his mind the entire way up to his room and it's rather difficult to keep a straight face when they make it to the door and his lover shoots him a knowing look over his shoulder before unlocking it.

Room service has straightened out the bed and the suits Sasha ordered for Leon to try on rest on too. They are probably the only reason the two of them don't immediately find themselves in a tangle of limbs on the mattress. Sasha moves to lean his cane against one of the nearby chairs and shrugs off his leather jacket. When he gets back Leon's already inspecting the suits, rubbing the material of a sleeve between a thumb and index finger. Sasha walks up behind him and leans in to press a kiss to the crook of his neck. His hands alight on Leon's hips, a thumb sneaks beneath the fabric of his undone jacket and shirt to brush against warm skin.

"Do you need help undressing?" Sasha purrs against the side of his neck, pointedly teasing rather than anything else. Leon does need to pick out a suit after all, and they probably should make another attempt at memorizing their cover story just to be safe before the afternoon fully settles into evening.