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turnupswritessometimes · 3 months ago

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Rookie Mistake - RE4 - Leon/Luis Oneshot

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58180393

Summary: "Secondly—" Luis stepped around him so neatly, that Leon didn't catch him in time. It wasn’t even until hands were tugging his shirt up, that he realised what he was doing. Realised his shirt had hiked up, at some point, and he hadn’t thought to fix it. "Hey!" Leon twisted, but Luis’ hands held him firm. Firmer than he’d think he was capable of. Thumbs brushed either side of his spine. "This regulation for you, sancho?" "That," he said. "Was a mistake."

(So there's this one mod...)

Word Count: 7,800

Rookie Mistake

"Wait a moment."

They didn't have time for this. They were heading through the tunnels; deep underground; he was completely lost and twitchy at having to rely on Luis. Ashley was in danger – more danger than ever – and they didn’t have time. He had to get back to her before it was too late. He knew what it was like to fight that parasite. She couldn’t go through that alone.

Leon looked back at Luis. "What?"

"Firstly—" Luis caught his shoulder, turning him to face him. It was easier to let him, than to resist. He raised his hands, and Leon looked at those splayed fingers. "You will be no help to the senorita if you have run yourself ragged."

"We don't have time."

"Secondly—" Luis stepped around him so neatly, that Leon didn't catch him in time. It wasn’t even until hands were tugging his shirt up, that he realised what he was doing. Realised his shirt had hiked up, at some point, and he hadn’t thought to fix it.

"Hey!" Leon twisted, but Luis’ hands held him firm. Firmer than he’d think he was capable of. Thumbs brushed either side of his spine. "This regulation for you, sancho?"

Leon’s stomach twitched. He tried turning again, with more force this time. Smacked Luis' hands away, though he was still aware that his shirt was still hiked up; that his midriff was on show. Aware that the touch had sent sparks dancing over his skin.

"That," he said. "Was a mistake."

That was a tattoo across his lower back. Was just sat above the line of his pants. Swirling black lines akin to wings. Usually, it was easy to forget it was even there; he couldn't see it unless he twisted around in the mirror; and he avoided that. That reminded him the mistake was permanent.

Luis leant back against the rocky wall. His arms were folded which meant, short of Leon tossing him over his shoulder, they would not be moving again in a hurry. If he wanted to save Ashley, he had to have this conversation. Luis looked smug; head titled to one side, smirking, those dark eyes looking Leon up and down. It made his stomach twist, and his cheeks prickle with heat. He hated that. Hated that he would care about what this man – this man who was untrustworthy and a stranger – thought about him.

He adjusted his shirt, tucking it in. "Does it matter?"

Luis shrugged. "I just did not see you as – that kind of guy."

He huffed his hair from his face. Tried to seem unbothered. Failed. It was always like this with the tattoo. "I'm not."

"And yet—" Luis waved a hand in the general direction of his midriff. Paused, waiting for a reply. When he didn’t get one, he tilted his head. Dark curls fell to his shoulder. "It suits you nicely.”

"Shut up," Leon snapped. "And get moving."

Though he didn't want to go first. Didn't want to expose his back to Luis again; that would be dangerous. So, he glowered until the man finally pushed off from the wall. Forcefully casual. He even whistled, under his breath, as he headed further into the tunnels.

Leon followed. His back burnt. He could still feel those hands on him. Thought about what it would feel like to feel that again. Maybe lying down; Luis above him; murmuring into his ear about how nicely it suited him.

He pushed the thought from his mind. This wasn’t the time.

The whistling was like a needling in his ear. Grating. It made his finger twitch on his handgun. It was more annoying than Luis' general chatter. And he knew what it was; it was Luis way of trying to break him; to get him to talk about the tattoo. It was working.

Eventually, he snapped, "I was still in training, alright?"

The whistling stopped. Replaced by a slow, wide smirk. "Alright?”

He didn’t want to look at Luis. He wouldn’t look at Luis. But he also knew the whistling would continue until he explained more.

"My squad - in special forces - all wanted to get tattoos together," he said. "Like – group bonding. Like, a rite of passage."

"I see, I see." Though Luis' eyebrows were still raised. "And you chose..."

"Somewhere always hidden." It wasn't enough, but it was true. He hadn't been quite stupid enough to get a silly tattoo somewhere he couldn't easily hide. Those dark eyes still watched him. "I was drunk. It seemed funny at the time."

Luis nodded. His dark curls fell forward to hide his face, and he pressed his hand to his mouth. A moment later, Leon realised why. He was laughing.

Leon pushed his shoulder. Hard enough to send him against the wall. Luis still laughed, bouncing off it like it was nothing.

"I am sorry," though he didn't sound it. He was still grinning at Luis.

Leon rolled his eyes. He felt uncomfortably warm. It shouldn't matter. It really shouldn't matter because he barely knew this man and he wouldn't want to see this man after this mission.

Would this mission ever end? He continued down the corridor, trying to listen for any bugs. Any monsters. In fact, he'd welcome a good gunfight right now, if it stopped this conversation.

“No, it’s a good joke,” he said. Snapped. They were up against a corner, and he pressed his back against it. Checked his sniper, to look around the corner with. “The pretty boy with the girly tattoo.”

He looked through the scope, instead of at Luis. Saw a blur of heat and took the shot, hearing the familiar cry of a bug.

“At the time, I thought I was in on the joke.”

He guessed he had been, until they were sober. And everyone else had guns or flags, which were equally stupid and embarrassing, but they weren’t quite as embarrassing as Leon’s.

He lowered the rifle, flicking his hair from his eyes again.

“I am sorry,” Luis repeated, and this time, he sounded like he understood. Leon wouldn’t look at him. It was another joke to him.

Leon shrugged. He continued walking; it felt like the tattoo was burning.

Their hips nudged together. Leon twitched away.

He felt fingers graze the small of his back again. Turned to snap at Luis, only to find him looking at him softly. His eyes were heavy-lidded; dark irises glinting in the low light.

"If I were you, I would not be shy," he said. His voice was low. Completely inappropriate for roaming underneath a plaga-infected castle. "It is – how you say – sexy?"

Bastard. He was a bastard, because Leon knew for a fact Luis knew that word just fine, and knew the implication. He'd said it to get a reaction from him.

"Shut up," he said, again, but it didn't have the same bite.

Because Luis was an attractive man. He could admit that. Objectively. He was very attractive and there were certainly worse men to have been chained to. Because deep down, he was already thinking about if they could meet again, after the mission. Hopefully still on the same side, but didn't think he would mind fighting Luis like he did Ada.

(Dammit, his love life was awful. How did he end up like this? He blamed Raccoon City. Everything came back to Raccoon City.)

Because Luis was being very obvious that he was attracted to Leon, and the tattoo only seemed to increase that. It made him feel unnecessarily flustered.

Luis shrugged. "I am just being truthful."

"Oh, so that's what you choose to be truthful about?" It was easy to slip into unbothered.

They had to pause, to dispose of a few bugs. It was strange, how easily they’d fallen into working with each other. Leon kicked a corpse to one side, reloading his handgun. Focused on the familiar movement of that, and not that his pulse was racing. Not that his mind was racing about what Luis would like to do with him.

"I have never lied," Luis said. "I simply operate on a need-to-know basis."

Leon almost laughed. He managed to stop it before it turned into more than a chuckle. Hated that too - that this guy could make him laugh, even when he shouldn't. They could pause here, in this alcove, and reload.

"And you think I need to know you think my tramp stamp is sexy?" Leon asked.

"Oh." Luis grinned at him, and it was like a sunbeam. "Si. Definitely."

It stirred his stomach. He looked Luis up and down, and watched his dark eyes twinkle in response; in genuine interest. Because if the tattoo wasn't secret, it was a joke at his expense; that he even agreed to it.

Now, someone found it sexy. And he liked that.

He was really flirting over the corpse of a bug monster.

"Well maybe when we get out of here, we can continue that conversation." It felt like a surrender. But he was choosing that, choosing to turn his back on Luis as they continued, and knew it was an invitation.

An invitation that was taken. He was there, immediately, his hands tugging Leon’s hips back to him. His thumb pressing over Leon's spine; the centre of the tattoo. "I like the sound of that, amor."

His breath caught involuntarily.

He didn’t move. Didn’t stop Luis from tugging his shirt up again, and let his fingers press over the tattoo, edging round to his hips. His touch was light, and that made it even more unbearable. Made it an effort not to make any embarrassing sounds.

Maybe he didn’t mind surrendering to this man.

He caught Luis' wrists, gently. Felt warm breath against his ear, lips just grazing the side of his neck. His heart hadn't stopped racing since he'd gotten out the car the previous night, but it pounded more heavily now.

There was another skitter from somewhere above them. Another bug. And that made Leon remember the monsters. The plaga. Ashley.

He was flirting whilst Ashley was fighting for her life. Terrified.

"We have to go." He let go of Luis' wrists. Stepped away.

And to his credit, Luis took it in his stride. He chuckled, matching his step down the stairs and tugging out his own gun.

"Later, then."

Which seemed like another reason to make it through this.

Even if it was as embarrassing a one as that damn tattoo.

Leon sat at the bar alone. Whiskey on the wooden top in front of him. He was trying to pace himself with it. Had to pace himself with it, because there was every chance he'd be sat here by himself all night. Every chance this was a trap, and if it was, he needed to have his wits about him.

He'd gotten the comms message through a week ago. It was unbelievable. Luis Serra, back from the grave.

His first reaction had been livid anger. At first, he was only going to the meeting suggested to pick a fight. How dare he let Leon think him dead – how dare he have the gall to say, "Fancy another dance, Prince Charming?" Instead of explaining anything.

But the rage settled. Alright, so Luis was alive, and he'd found out Leon was too. They were both alive. That was a miracle. After everything, after Luis saving his life, he couldn’t hold Umbrella against him. He’d repented for those sins. And couldn’t Leon have just as easily fallen into a trap like that.

So here he was, waiting for that man, in a small, seedy bar downtown. It felt like he had a target on his back; like he was waiting to be shot.

He'd been there half an hour when someone settled into the stool next to him. That familiar smell of cigarettes; like he really was a ghost, and his smell was proceeding him. He glanced across to see that familiar leather jacket; a glimpse of dark curls.

"You made it." Leon spoke to the glass in front of him. He couldn’t seem too eager.

"So did you," came the reply. That familiar, uncaring lilt. "Not that I doubted you, sancho."

Leon glanced at him, properly this time; Luis looked drained, dark smudges under his eyes, his curls a little lank. Then again, Leon couldn’t say he was fully recovered, either. And he wasn’t a wanted man.

"Well, no offence, but I had my doubts about you," Leon said.

Luis laughed. Ordered a whiskey on the rocks too, and Leon was very glad there was a group at the other end of the bar. They were clearly regulars, keeping the bartender occupied. The less notice they could attract, the better.

"It was a very close thing." Luis leant an elbow on the bar, and it brought them that inch closer together. Leon was sure he could feel the heat coming from him. "Thanks to your first aid."

He'd done the best he could. His hands had been shaking, from the fight with Krauser; from the shock; from the very fact that he needed them to be still. He'd done what he could, with what he had. He’d thought it wouldn’t be enough.

"Well, you saved me," he said. Evenly. Took a swig. It seemed safer to, now, especially now it wasn't a trap.

"Oh, you would have been fine." Luis smiled at him, and it made a warmth settle in Leon's stomach. Those eyes were the same; like black coffee. "Surely, you were, no?"

"Eventually." Though he had been hung from the side of a cliff. And, because Luis was chuckling warmly, he pressed on, "How'd you get out of the castle?"

"Can I not keep a secret? Seem more mysterious?"

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Was it Ada?"

"If it was?"

He'd seen those emails. He knew they were working together. At the time, he hadn't even felt betrayed. It had explained everything; it had seemed inevitable. Only hurt as much as poking an old bruise. Luis' answer confirmed his theory.

Leon nodded.

There was a pause. They both took another sip. This thing sat between them. The thing from the tunnels. The flirting. That Leon had said they’d continue from there. This was the offer, returning.

"The senorita?"

"Home safe. You knew that."

"Por sorpuesto. What I do not know is if you still see her?"

She'd asked Leon to work for her. He thought about that, and how he'd known he couldn't. It would be like keeping a wolf for a pet. Still, "We said we'd meet, every month, for lunch."

Because he liked Ashley. She was sweet girl and she'd been through hell with very minimal complaining. Because he'd enjoyed spending time with her even when there was the imminent threat of death, so it would probably be even better when they weren't about to be killed.

"Ah, very sweet." And it seemed to answer Luis question. There was nothing there. She was a little sister to him.

Leon thought about saying that she'd like to see Luis too. She probably would. But they weren't here to talk about Ashley. He took another swig, and waited for Luis to get to the point.

"So, you learn your first aid skills before or after the..." He waved his hand to Leon's midriff. He couldn't help glancing down the bar, as if the men down there would know what they were talking about.

"You're not funny," Leon said. Paused. "The...happened just a few weeks into training."

"You were the black sheep, eh?"

"The kid who just graduated from the police academy dropped into the special forces by the president himself?” Leon swilled the amber liquid around the glass. “I fit right in."

Luis chuckled. His shoulder nudged Leon's, and he found himself nudging back. He still felt that spark. That hadn't changed. Luis thought he was sexy, because of that damn tattoo. And Leon still found himself attracted to him; to the smirks and glinting eyes and smell of cigarettes and leather.

"What about you?" Leon asked. Couldn't believe he was asking. He supposed he wasn't as scared of the answer now. "What about – Umbrella?"

Luis did pause then, and it gave him a jolt of satisfaction to not be the one on the backfoot, for once. He took a swig of his drink, and rolled it around his mouth. "You really want to know?"

Leon knew he should say yes. It could be important in figuring out their next move; what Ada was up to. But he also didn't want to know. It was acknowledging that, by all accounts, he shouldn't have trusted Luis in the first place.

"Suppose not," Leon said. "So, why'd you ask me here?"

"You and I both know why I asked you here, sancho."

Was he really still the sancho? It seemed like Luis was only saying it to irritate him. He wouldn’t rise to it. Not this time.

Leon finished his drink. It still burnt his throat on the way down, and sounded much too loud when he put it back on the wood of the bar. He looked at how the dingy, yellow light reflected on the rim. He did know. He was the one who'd suggested it. A night together; forget Umbrella and the military; forget the Plaga and the zombies. Still, now that the proposition was in front of him, he felt – oddly self-conscious. Too aware of what Luis was here for, and what he was expecting from Leon.

Not that he would ever say any of that.

He leant his chin on his palm, instead, and raised an eyebrow at Luis. Like he was unbothered. “That all, huh?”

Luis' dark eyes sparked back at him. He still smirked, letting his gaze graze over Leon. His skin prickled at the attention. “That’s all.”

Leon raised an eyebrow in return. Looked pointedly at the glass in Luis' hand. His smirk widened. He finished the drink, tossing the golden liquid back. His Adam's apple bobbed with the motion.

Leon's stomach squeezed in answer.

He still waited. Knew that he could say no and walk out. But he didn't. The more he sat with this man, even now the tide of relief had subsided, the more that attraction – that pull – was back. The more he did want to see where this went.

Luis stood, untangling himself from the stool. He stepped past Leon, fingers just grazing the back of his shirt, as he passed. Just over where the tattoo was.

Leon followed. Like a dog, he supposed. Tried to walk casually, though his heart was pounding in anticipation. Back out of the bar, and down the street. It was a warm evening, with a light breeze.

Luis lit a smoke, as soon as he was outside, and Leon tried not to watch him too greedily. But it was captivating; the way the smoke curled from between his lips; the uncaring way he took a drag. The way car headlights made his skin bronze, when they passed.

They paused, after Luis had stubbed it out under his boot, and when they were stood in front of a small hotel. A nice enough one, not the beat-up one around the corner.

"I have a room here for the night," Luis said. "I do not suppose you would like to join me?"

"For the night?"

"Si."

Leon pretended to think about it, as if there was any question. He'd met him at the bar, and that had been the answer from the start.

He smiled. "Sure."

As if he was unbothered. Tried to seem unbothered, as he followed Luis into the hotel and up the stairs. As if he wasn't fazed by the proposition; as if he did things like this all the time, when he was more used to gunfights.

The room was nice. Clean and white and comfortable. Leon closed the door by leaning against it with his back. Watched Luis flick on the bedside lamp, and look over his shoulder to find he hadn’t moved. His hair cast shadows over his skin; a curl sat just over the curl of his jaw.

Luis smiled, a dark eyebrow twitching up. "You alright, bello?"

Leon nodded. The monsters suddenly seemed easier to deal with; his body knew how to shoot a gun. Knew how to start with that; didn’t realise he’d forgotten how to start this.

Luis chuckled, under his breath, and stepped forward. Like he could see right through him. "Plaga infested castle, and yet you're nervous of me?"

"I'm not nervous," Leon said.

Luis' hands grazed his hips, palming the shape of them, and Leon pressed into the touch. Ran his hands over Luis' wrists, taking a breath.

"Of course you're not." Luis' voice was like a purr. His hands lifted higher, just raising the hem of Leon's shirt. His fingers brushed bare skin, and Leon thought about those hands on that gun of his – pressed further forward. Hated that he paused there.

Luis chuckled, and closed the gap. Kissed him confidently – firmly – and Leon let his mouth fall open; let Luis’ tongue press against his. His hands slipped to Luis' back, his fingers splayed over his leather jacket. He could smell it, underneath the smell of his cigarettes, and it made him heady. Luis pressed closer; a leg slipping in between his, just as firmly.

His breath caught.

Luis nipped his bottom lip, as he pulled away; just a hair's breadth. "Been a minute, huh?"

He nodded. Was it really so obvious? "Don't get a lot of time for…"

Luis' leg shifted and he felt a spear of arousal. He was being teased, and he should hate that; should hate Luis' soft chuckle in response. Should hate the soft way he kissed the corner of his mouth.

"You are not beating them off with a stick?" Luis brushed Leon's hair from his face, his fingers lingering over his jaw. "Truly?"

"What about you?" Leon asked, because that was easier. Easier than thinking about how it felt impossible to get close – truly close – to anyone, after Raccoon City. His lips grazed Luis' stubble. "Don Quixote?"

Luis only chuckled again; perhaps he had the same problem. He kissed at the hollow of Leon's jaw, teeth grazing skin, and Leon pressed him closer. Buried his hand in those dark curls, and kept him there. Luis' leg shifted again, and he felt another curl of heat. It was a relief when his shirt was tugged high, just under his ribs, because he was warm. Very warm.

Luis' hands moved over his waist, his fingers pressing over where the tattoo sat. It sent sparks dancing across his skin, and he pressed down against Luis' leg. Felt, rather than heard, a moan against his neck. His fingers tightened in those dark curls, breath catching.

He let Luis peel his shirt off, if only because it gave him the chance to catch hold of Luis' leather jacket, ready to ease it off.

Luis caught his wrists before he could. Tugged it free himself, and stepped away. It left Leon pressed against the door, feeling needy for that warmth again, his heart racing. He watched Luis place the leather jacket over the chair in the room, reverently, even though Leon's own shirt was in a puddle on the floor.

"Seriously?" he asked.

Luis looked over his shoulder at him. He didn't let himself look over his body; at how he could see the shape of his chest and waist now. He raised his eyebrows. "This jacket is a work of art. She should be treated with respect, alright?"

Leon raised his eyebrows back, crossing his arms. It felt like a shield; he couldn't decide if he wanted one or not. Because he wanted this; was attracted to Luis, was already aroused. But the skin on his back was prickling, and he still felt too aware of himself.

Luis laughed. He stepped forward again, and Leon did glance down him, now. Had the satisfaction of seeing the bulge in the front of Luis' jeans, and knowing he was not alone.

"No need to be jealous," Luis murmured, tracing his fingers over Leon's arms. Just lightly enough to raise the hair there.

"I'm not jealous of a jacket." Though he still stared at said jacket. It was easier than those dancing, black coffee eyes.

Those hands untangled his arms. Gently. He let them fall. Let Luis' fingers nudge his chin back to face him, his thumb rubbing over his chin.

"Very sweet," Luis murmured, looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

"I'm not sweet." But his hands were catching Luis' waist again, and he was pressing away from the door. The air-con was cold on his skin.

"Si." Luis' fingers brushed his hair back again, even as he guided him across the room, walking backwards. "Not nervous and not sweet."

"Shut up."

Luis lifted his chin up, smirking. "Why don’t you make me?"

Leon tugged them flush against each other, crashing their mouths together. Heard a satisfied sound from Luis as he kissed him back; pushing his tongue against Leon's. He carded a hand through the back of Leon's hair, another feeling his bare shoulder. He was busy exploring under Luis' own shirt. His skin was warm; soft, his back arching against Leon.

He lost track. There was only Luis' mouth and tongue and heat against him. Only his hands grazing over Leon's bare skin, and his heart racing in his chest. Then Luis was tugging him down onto the bed, and they were creasing the tight, white sheets with their weight. He tugged Luis' shirt free - he wasn't so reverent about that - and pressing their bare skin together. It increased that heat, between them. Luis' arms looped around his neck; he kissed over his cheekbone. Grazed his teeth there and Leon let out a soft sound. Felt Luis smile against him.

"Shut up," he said, again.

Luis lay back on the sheets, under him, dark curls spreading across the white. His teeth flashed when he smiled. "I did not say anything."

Which he didn't. Leon still wanted to frown at him, though. Because he looked very handsome on those sheets, and it was making his heart stutter; because it was better than being soft. He couldn’t start being soft.

"Still," Leon repeated.

Luis chuckled, his knees pressing into Leon's hips. He bit his lip. Held out until Luis' nails dragged up his sides; it sent a spear of heat through him, and he hated that a whine came from the back of his throat.

His cheeks burnt. He kissed Luis, forcefully, so that he didn't have the chance to say anything about it. Nipped at Luis' bottom lip and felt his fingers dig into Leon's skin. Kissed over the stubble of his jaw; it scratched his nose and mouth, and he loved that feeling. That feeling made his face tingle.

"Here," Luis murmured into the soft skin of Leon's neck. His hands pushed his chest. Leon resisted, for a moment, just to show that he could. Let Luis turn him over – his back hit the sheets – and settle over him. Their hips pressed against each other and the friction of their jeans made Leon's breath hitch. Fingers traced down his chest, slowly; teasing again. "Let me take care of you, bello."

His voice was so soft, like a purr, that he gave in. That he tangled his fingers in Luis’ curls again, and let him kiss his throat and collarbones as he eased his jeans open. Paused, just after he did, pressing a palm against the interested bulge there. Leon's hips bucked against it – he tightened his free hand in the sheets.

Luis pressed a chaste kiss against his chest. It felt like a reward. Luis was the sweet one, but he didn't have the breath to tease him about that. Could barely think when those long fingers were tugging him free of his pants. Were twisting around him artfully; well-practised. He bucked his hips into the touch on instinct, desperate for the touch.

Luis shushed him, still gentle. Thumbed over the head of his cock and Leon saw stars. Tangled his fingers in more of those dark curls. He pressed his mouth into Luis' shoulder, and felt Luis' hand tug in reaction. Firmly.

"Goddamn," Leon gasped.

"You really are happy to see me, eh?" His hand was still moving. Not firmly enough to create real friction. Just enough to get him to want more.

"Better here - than - those tunnels," he managed to reply.

Luis laughed, and it seemed genuine. His touch paused, and that felt like torture. Leon's hips raised upwards, and he took hold of the bedframe behind him to help angle himself.

"Oh, I don't know," Luis murmured. "It had atmosphere, no?"

If Leon had any breath left, he would have laughed. But Luis' thumb rubbed over that spot again, and his breath came as a sharp hiss. He tightened his thighs against Luis' hips, hating that smile. He gritted his teeth.

"You're gunna – either have to – stop that," he managed to say. "Or - finish."

Luis stilled his hand, tilting his head to one side. "You don't think you can go twice?"

His neck felt flushed. "Been a minute."

And he just knew, from Luis' dangerous smile, he thought that was sweet. Bastard. But he did let go of him, undoing his own jeans. Leon shifted lazily, kicking the rest of his off; kicking his shoes off, even as he burned. Should still feel self-conscious, but his body had warmed up now. Now his mind felt half-drunk on this intimacy. On Luis Serra's soft, soft voice murmuring that he'd take care of him.

"The bedside drawer," Luis murmured. Kicking their clothes from the bed. Their shoes landed in a collection of thumps. Leon didn't let his gaze linger on the scar; the tight, raised rope across his chest. He turned his attention to the drawer, pulling the bottle out.

Paused.

"What was your idea of how this would go?"

Their legs were still tangled, and Leon was still throbbing with need, but it had subsided enough to think a little more clearly.

Luis' hand shifted up his side, and Leon bit his lip to stop from sighing. "You'd let me choose?"

Yes, because it was easier than saying it himself. Leon shrugged. "You saved my life."

Luis kissed him, open-mouthed. Stayed there to murmur, "You saved mine."

"Still." Still, he was aware that his back was against the sheets. Aware that Luis liked the tattoo there, and he liked that Luis liked it. Made it feel like it wasn't a mistake.

But he couldn't articulate or admit that. Absolutely not.

“I said I’d take care of you.” Luis' black coffee eyes glinted at him, in the low light of the bedside lamp. He leant closer, until his lips were just grazing the shell of Leon's ear. "I thought about watching those wings of yours take flight."

His stomach clenched, and he dug his fingers into Luis' skin. It gave him away, even if he said, "That can be arranged."

Luis saw through him. Of course he did. He chuckled, and nipped Leon's earlobe. It sent a spark through him. He dropped the bottle, breath burning his throat.

"Oh, gracias, senior," Luis murmured. He caught the bottle, flicking it open and squeezing it over his fingers. "So kind of you."

"Screw you." But Leon's hips raised, ready, his core throbbing.

Luis actually winked. "Oh, we will get to that, do not worry."

Leon opened his mouth to snap back; just as Luis slipped a finger inside him. His breath stuttered out, instead. He closed his eyes, so he didn't have to see that smug, satisfied smirk. He rode that spear of pleasure, tangling his legs around Luis', and tugging him closer by his dark curls. Nipped at Luis' shoulder as he started to move. A steady, easy pace. Taking care of him. He felt like he was going to burst.

Luis' breath was hot against his throat. His breath rumbled, as he murmured, "Hey, hey - look at me?"

A thumb traced a line under his eye. It was a huge effort. Especially because Luis was still moving; Leon's hips twitched in that rhythm, seeking more. But he did. Was rewarded with a wide smile; his teeth flashing in the low lamplight.

"That's my boy."

He tugged Luis' mouth to his own to try and disguise the whine that came out of him at that. It wasn't successful, he felt Luis' chuckle against him. Even as he pressed another finger in.

Leon felt like he was coming undone. Watched the light glinting in Luis' dark eyes; the way his curls twitched as he moved; that soft smile as he worked; as he started to unravel him. He hung on to the bedframe behind him, blood roaring in his ears. Heard his own voice whine out, "Luis…"

Luis kissed him, softly, as a response. Continued moving; curled his fingers and Leon cried into his mouth. He felt clenched; primed like a bomb.

"Luis – I need—"

"What do you need?" Luis murmured.

"Dammit." He could barely think of words; and especially the words he knew would get him what he wanted. Did want that.

“Tell me.”

"You."

And he even got the strength to meet his eye, even as he fought for breath, his chest heaving. It was like a fight, and he was losing. Fine, he’d lose, if he could get some relief. If he could get another spear of that fantastic pleasure.

Luis brushed the hair from his face. His fingers sparked, where they touched. "Dios mio, you're…"

His hand stilled. It gave Leon enough of his mind back to ask, "What?"

“Here,” Luis murmured. His hands found Leon's hips again, thumbs digging against the bones. Eased him round, and Leon obliged. He thought he'd do anything Luis told him, if he’d make him feel this good. His knees sunk into the sheets and his need felt even worse; even heavier; in this position.

A good worse, he thought, as those hands felt over his waist; his hips; his ass. He heard Luis' moan, and looked over his shoulder, through his hair. It was actually nice to see Luis look flustered; a dark blush on his throat.

"Everything you wanted?" His voice came out low; rough. Because the tattoo would be full on show, now. Luis would have a view of it, like a black flag, just between his hip bones.

Luis' fingers tightened. "Oh, and more, amore."

Leon had to let his head fall back onto the pillows, catching hold of the sheets. It was the soft way he said it; the way his fingers grazed over his thighs, getting the downy hair to stand on end.

Teasing.

"Luis."

"Si, si, patience." He had to wait for another caress, shifting his head so that he could still see Luis’ out of the corner of his eye, before he finally felt Luis pressing into him. He keened, arching into it, and heard an answering sound from Luis. He wondered how the tattoo moved with the motion. His hands steadied him, as he began moving. Much too slowly.

It was lightning. It sent a wave of heat and desire through him at every move. Leon bit the side of his hand to stop from mewling like a cat. It was just the right side of overwhelming; especially when he was already so aroused. When his own cock burnt between his legs, and he didn't think Luis would even need to touch him there.

"Hey – hey—" Luis' breath was heavy, by his ear. His curls tickled between his shoulder blades, and just that sent shivers over his back. Kept moving, his pace increasing, just a little. "Can I hear?"

Leon made a sound of protest. Squeezed his eyes shut. His teeth made a dull ache on his hand; if he wasn't careful, he would break the skin.

Luis paused. A shaky hand brushed Leon's hair back from his face; grazed his wrist. "Hey – Prince Charming?"

Maybe it was the nickname; the nickname made him feel like he was floating. He did pull his hand away then, his breath so heavy it hurt his ribcage; burnt his throat like fire. "Don't stop. Please."

Maybe Luis planned to tease him again. Surely he did. But instead he kissed at the join of his shoulder, his tongue scraping there, his teeth nipping. Leon whined, and the fingers on his wrist tightened.

It was embarrassing. It was embarrassing for Luis to hear him; it was easy to give in, when he was being so soft. When him being soft made him realise he liked this; liked Luis wanting to hear him. When his whine was answered with Luis moving twice as fast as before. When he heard Luis' answering sounds, from above him.

The embarrassment added to it.

He bucked his hips, chasing that friction and that fire, and wondered if the tattoo was flying like Luis had hoped. From the fingers pressing into the hips, he thought so. He braced his forearms on the bed, his hair back in his face, staring at the lamp with blurred vision. He matched Luis' rhythm. Beat it, and Luis' gave a long, low moan.

"Bueno," he murmured. Dipped his head to kiss at Leon's shoulder. "Muy bueno - my good boy. My good, good boy."

If he was in his right mind, he would snap that he wasn't Luis' boy. His mind had left him, entirely, though. Instead, it sent a spike through him. Luis' boy.

If Luis made him feel like this, he would be Luis' boy.

He would only whimper a string of his name, twisting his fists in the sheets. Letting Luis hear every embarrassing sound.

"You can let go." Luis' mouth moved against his shoulder blade, his hands firm on his hips. "Let go, Leon."

He did; as Luis thrusted into him again. Cried out, and Luis answered as he finished. Leon fought for breath, as he came. The heat and the need subsided, and his mind could only fizz, like a disconnected wire. His strength gave out, and he fell against the sheets. Felt Luis over him, their skin burning where they brushed each other. Felt his dark curls against his back. Felt his hand search for Leon's, and fit over it. Squeezed. He felt his heavy breath; felt the movement of his stomach and chest as he recovered.

"Dios mio," Luis whispered again.

Leon took a heavy breath. Managed to murmur, "You can say that again."

Luis chuckled. Kissed at the hollow of his jaw and Leon made a soft sound in response, words failing. His hands found Leon's hips again, as he eased himself free, and it sent another whine from his throat; he couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain anymore. He shifted. Suddenly, it was hard to keep his eyes open. His energy had drained.

And yet, his mess was all over the sheets; over himself, now that he’d fallen into them. He was uncomfortable, and he needed to make himself move. He caught the back of Luis' neck, as he tried to get upright, and pulled him down for another kiss, his lips clumsy.

He searched for the right words through his misty brain. "You're – fantastic."

He felt Luis smile.

"Oh, I try.”

Luis was smoking.

Leon didn’t see how he even had the energy to sit upright, after that. He’d barely had enough energy to shower; to get rid of the messy sheets. He lay back, under fresh sheets, his energy drained. He watched Luis’ profile; he’d tied his hair back, so only a single dark curl fell by his ear. Watched his lips around that cigarette, and swore he could still feel them on his shoulders; his neck.

His heart wasn’t racing, but it still thudded heavily in his chest. His mind couldn’t do much more than spark, and it was an effort to keep his eyes open.

Luis glanced at him sideways. “Turned into Sleeping Beauty now, eh?”

“Shut up.” But he didn’t have the energy to move properly. He flapped an arm at Luis, and he chuckled. It was that charming chuckle that made his stomach twist.

His mind went on a tangent, because of that chuckle. Imagined if they were both normal; if he’d really been just a cop; if he’d gone on vacation to Spain, one time. If he’d met this Spaniard and had a fling with him. Just a fling. Without any of the complications of his job, or Umbrella.

Luis looked down at him, properly, his cigarette still between his fingers. The smoke curled in a ribbon, towards the ceiling. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah.” Leon wasn’t about to share that fantasy. The beers in the sun and the cool of the pool after a humid heat and the soft romance of it all. That would be too much. “I’m good.” He paused. “I’m beat.”

It was a poor choice of words and Luis’ smirk let him know that. He raised an eyebrow, but maybe he was tired too, because he didn’t make a joke. His eyes were soft.

“Your problem is you’re too tense.”

That was probably it. His muscles felt loose; like he’d just finished a workout. Completely drained, but in the best way.

“I wonder why,” he replied. Stretched a little, just to enjoy the ache in his muscles. It had been a minute, and he liked that it was Luis Serra who broke that streak. “Aren’t you?”

Luis raised his cigarette, twisting it slightly, and Leon chuckled. That was one way not to be tense.

He brushed his hair from his face – it was still damp from the shower – and kept his arm up, as Luis stubbed out his smoke on the ash tray. The smell lingered. The window was open, just slightly, just enough to get a breeze to catch the drapes. It was truly dark outside, now, only an amber streetlight outside fighting against the indigo blackness.

Leon listened to the roll of the cars passing. It was soothing. If cars were passing, that meant the city was still alive. He always slept easier knowing that; when he slept at all; guessed that was probably another reason why he was so wiped now.

Training had been harder. The deep breathing of other people sleeping was too much like the constant heaves and groans of those things in Raccoon City. Leon wasn’t letting himself think about how it would be to sleep next to Luis. He’d embarrassed himself enough, without having a night terror.

Embarrassed himself enough.

Damn, he had. Had mewled and whined and wanted Luis to call him good boy again. He bit his lip, frowning as though that would help soften the memories.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Luis said. His leg nudged Leon’s. “I am trying not to be worried, but…”

Leon shook his head, like that would be enough. Another car came by, the white lights illuminating the room for a moment.

A hand nudged his arm down. Gently. If he really wanted to, he could resist. If he really wanted to, he could start an argument about it. Deflect. Instead, he let Luis nudge his arm down. Looked up at him, and his dark eyes were soft, and searching. That made it worse; that he really cared.

He twisted his lip between his teeth, to feel the sting. “It’s not you.”

A dark eyebrow twitched higher; that wasn’t enough of an answer. Leon took a breath. Shrugged, and even his shoulders ached. “I just – guess they were right about me.”

“Because of the tattoo?”

Leon found himself smiling, just a little. “Must be a slut, right?”

Luis shifted. Lay down, on his side, so that they were on the same level. So their legs brushed against each other’s and he felt a rush of warmth. Luis traced the line of his collarbone.

“I did not think you would be bothered by what anyone says about you.”

“I’m not.” It was automatic. Just like not being nervous. Not being sweet. He reached up, twisted that dark curl around his finger. Easy to be intimate, now. “But some things – stick.”

They stuck when Krauser insisted on calling him pretty boy, with his mouth twisted like it was swearing. They stuck when he was trapped in basic training, and the comments were constant.

Luis’ hand settled over his chest. Could he feel his heartbeat? “And you know why they said that, don’t you?”

“Are you going to tell me it’s because they fancied me?”

“Maybe they did.” And when Leon rolled his eyes, Luis kissed him. Slowly. “Maybe they were jealous.”

Leon snorted. He got another kiss for that, Luis holding his chin steady. He tangled his fingers in Luis’ hair, his stubble rubbing against his mouth. That was a cliché, and it didn’t help wash the words away.

“Then they’d probably be jealous of you right now,” he murmured.

“Ah, of course.” Luis’ tongue traced over his bottom lip. “Then, I count myself a lucky man.”

Leon did laugh, genuinely, and that seemed amazing, just after feeling like that. That Luis could distract him. His hand trailed down, over his neck. His finger just grazed that spot. That raised scar. His heart stilled.

Luis shifted his wrist, moving his hand away, and it subsided the panic again. He pressed closer, barely pulling his face away. That was fine. Leon stared into those dark eyes. Luis was a lucky man. He was lucky, because he was here, with him.

“You know, I take it all as a compliment,” Luis continued. Leon pushed his chest in protest; immediately slipped a hand around to the small of his back to pull him closer, because Luis was alive. “I know you are having a good time, you know?”

“And did you?” Did he see those wings moving?

“They do not know what they are missing.” Luis murmured something in Spanish, too low and too fast for Leon to make out. He only registered another long, slow kiss, and felt his remaining energy draining from him. Wanted to stay here, in Luis’ arms, where he didn’t have to unpack any more of those feelings.

He suspected he would have to, in the morning. He suspected he’d remember and they’d have a similar conversation all over again. Maybe he’d even have to say more. Leon closed his eyes. He was allowed to keep them closed, this time.

“I’m really glad…” he murmured, already feeling himself slipping away. Another car passed. The city was still alive. “I met you, tonight.”

A mouth pressed against his forehead.

“Me too, mi corazon.”

#why do i keep getting into games that came out a year ago #turnupswrites #please please do leave comments #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon s kennedy #luis serra #biohazard #leon/luis #leon x luis #serennedy

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lovesickeros · 1 year ago

Text

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."