chris stands in the kitchen, dancing to the songs playing through his phone’s speakers. he’s swaying and tapping his foot and bobbing his head with the tune of whatever song he’s listening to right now as he stirs something in the skillet. whatever it is, it smells fucking fantastic.
leon, sitting on one of the bar stools, feet tucked up underneath him, sipping on a mug of warm tea as he watches his dork boyfriend dance. he almost can’t believe he wants to take chris’ hand in his own and let the taller man twirl him around the kitchen. he can’t believe that somehow chris convinced him to quit his government job and pursue his dream career of being a photographer. (well, his second dream career was being a photographer, his first was being a cop… but everybody knows how that turned out.) leon's a damn good photographer too, capturing photos of chris in the morning, sleepily making them both coffee, photos of the sun rays filtering through the tree branches, and even photos of munchie sitting on the windowsill if the damn cat would sit still for long enough.
“i know you’re looking at me, lee,” chris says, casting a sideyed look at leon, turning the stovetop off. “something on your mind?”
leon carefully unfolds his long legs from underneath him, setting his mug on the breakfast bar in front of him and padding around the bar to chris’ side. he doesn’t say anything, grabbing chris’ hands in his own.
“you wanna dance?” chris asked, a soft smile stretching across his face.
leon hums in answer, sliding his palms up chris’ chest and draping his arms around his boyfriend’s neck as chris wraps his arms around leon’s waist. leon leans into chris’ chest, letting him carry most of the weight, resting his head on chris’ collarbone.
it’s when chris starts softly singing along to the cheesy love song in his ear that leon starts laughing. the laugh starts out quiet but slowly builds up into a louder laugh, one that’s got leon weak on his knees and breathless against chris’ chest.
“what, lee?” chris asks, smiling confusedly at his tiny boyfriend.
“i-it’s just that you n-never sing to me,” leon explains, gasping in between laughing. “it was just un-unexpected. you were good though, i promise.”
leon looks up, bright baby blues glittering happily, a wide smile on his face. there’s so much love in his eyes, it nearly makes chris propose then and there. he settles instead on kissing leon carefully, cupping the man’s face.
leon runs his hands through chris’ cropped military hair, scraping his blunt nails against his scalp in that way that chris just loves. chris growls, kissing leon harder, wrapping five calloused fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.
“you’re askin’ for a lotta trouble, mister,” leon mumbles, standing on his toes to press his body against chris’.
“yeah? whatchu gonna do ‘bout it?” chris asks, lips fumbling down leon’s jaw as his strong arms lift the smaller man and set him on the counter.
chris traces a circle below leon’s ribcage, making him shiver and whimper. he kisses leon’s neck roughly, scruff scratching deliciously against his skin. his hand pushes leon’s tight-fitting t-shirt up, palm running over toned muscle and scarred skin, hand holding onto leon’s side hotly.
leon whines rather loudly, crying chris’ name out when he bites down harshly on his collarbone. he shudders when chris licks over the spot. chris kisses down leon’s shirt, his hand leaving leon’s side and lifting one of leon’s legs over his shoulder.
chris presses a kisses over leon’s crotch, making the photographer drip - literally drip - with interest. he’s sure he’s got a damp spot between his legs. chris’ thumb traces leon’s junk, grinning when leon lets out a pathetic little choked whine.
“as much as i would love to eat you out on this counter,” chris murmurs, kissing right over where leon’s t-cock is, over the fabric of sweatpants. “i’d rather just fuck you long, hard and slow in bed. hm? what do you think about that, puppy?”
the pet name makes leon glare half-heartedly, face flushed pink and pupils blown wide, at chris before nodding and letting chris pick him up again. instead of carrying him to bedroom like a normal boyfriend, he carries leon on his shoulders, leon’s crotch in his face. the doorways in their shared apartment are far, far too small for this style of carriage, forcing leon to press his chest to the top of chris’ head.
“was it necessary to carry me like that? i nearly hit my head on the doorframes,” leon complains as chris dumps him on the bed.
chris rolls his eyes, hooking his fingers into the waistband of leon’s sweatpants. he pulls them (and leon’s boxers) down, with a little assistance from leon in the form of raising his hips off the bed.
chris wastes little to no time in grabbing the backs of leon’s thighs and bending the other man nearly in half to get a better look at his holes.
“my, my, lee. look at how wet you are,” chris murmurs, running his index and middle fingers up leon’s folds and coming up sticky. “i bet you were playing with yourself earlier, hm?”
leon sets his ankles on chris’ shoulders, heat racing to his face and to his gut. he balls his fists in the sheets beside him, gritting his teeth as chris’ fingers inspect his hole, thick and filling him up good. they’re nothing compared to his cock, all big and long and it’s got girth for days.
leon’s always been a bit of a size queen, going absolutely insane over a nice, big cock filling him up good and plenty. he’s all twisting hips and grinding down on it and sucking it all sloppy like, like a porn star.
chris shakes leon out of his thoughts by wrapping his hand around his boyfriend’s neck, squeezing lightly.
leon moans, biting his lip to stifle it, trying to push his hips further onto chris’ fingers. unfortunately, chris withdraws his fingers completely, sucking them clean as leon whines pathetically, his hands around chris’ wrist and forearm.
“lee, listen,” chris says, gently slapping leon a bit. “i want you to suck my dick, but no touching okay? maybe if you do a good enough job, i’ll fuck you.”
leon nods immediately, his mouth salivating already. he’s hungry for dick and he surely lets it show (at least, in private). chris sits up and lays back on the bed, watching as leon takes off his shirt and removes chris’ clothing too.
he loves sucking dick. loves the heavy weight on his tongue, loves the musky taste and scent, loves the ache of his jaw when it’s open to so long. loves having people grab his hair and facefuck him, forcing cock down his throat.
“fuck, leon, so pretty with a cock in your mouth, so much quieter too,” chris observes, watching as leon puts his skilled lips and tongue to the test. “putting that tongue to work. so pretty with your lips wrapped around a cock.”
within minutes, he’s got chris like putty in his hands (or, in this case, mouth), stroking and sucking and fondling and drooling pre-come and spit down his chin.
and even though chris is so close to release, leon has been good and hasn’t touched himself at all, clearly suffering, his wet dripping from his folds onto the bedspread.
chris pets leon’s head, forcing the man’s head down, making him choke and gag.
“fuck, baby, listen to you,” chris moans.
he lets leon up, the younger man gasping and panting and dripping from both ends. chris watches as leon brings all the gunk dripping out of mouth back into it with his hand, ducking back down to lick chris’ cock clean, sucking long and hard.
leon’s eyelids hung half-opened over darkened baby blues. chris’ cock twitches in his mouth, suddenly warm, salty and thick come fills his mouth and goes down his throat. chris moans, leon’s name on his tongue and his hand in leon’s hair.
“goddamn, look at you,” chris murmurs quietly.
leon’s face is flushed pink, his lips red and swollen, lips shiny from spit and come and his eyes are half-lidded from desire. his hair is mussed, a far cry from the smooth style it’s usually combed into. he still has the head of chris’ now softening cock in his mouth, not seeming to mind at all, instead seeming to prefer to keep it still in there.
when leon makes love to his partner, he gets messy, sloppy, his preferred sex is wet and dirty, loud and heavy, hot. he loves when black spots dance in the peripherals of his vision, loves when his brain whites out from pressure on a particular spot inside of him, loves when somebody pins him down and makes him take it.
he’s a slut, sure, but only on his own terms.
“you keep that mouth on my cock, i won’t put it in you,” chris threatens.
leon sucks half-heartedly and pops off, instead nuzzling his cheek on chris’ cock. he licks the base like a kitten, and then kisses up chris’ body, pausing every now and then to press love bites near old bullet holes and old, raised scars. he runs his palms over chris’ muscles, worshipping every inch of chris’ torso.
chris watches as leon kisses his scars, as he runs gentle fingertips over toned muscle, over pocked and scarred skin. he runs his thumbs over leon’s dusty pink cheeks, runs his hand through leon’s hickory brown locks, pushing hair out of his face.
he knows that leon’s always been this way in bed, if rumors are anything to believe. he’s heard that leon’s always been a generous lover, and it’s true, always giving, always gifting pleasure, never expecting anything in return. leon has sex as if giving his partner pleasure give him pleasure, as if he could come just from kissing every inch of his partner’s skin, from his fingers on their bodies, from worshipping them.
chris has been the same, giving his partner the pleasure, but knowing leon gets off on just worship and idolization of whomever he believes is superior in the relationship, he’s held off a little bit. sure, when they make love , when they’re not just having sex or fucking , it’s sweet and slow and quiet (which is rare for leon, who is rather vocal) and gentle. he’s let leon take control of his own pleasure, giving and giving and giving, and barely ever taking.
it’s takes a moment to realize that leon is retreating back to chris’ cock, licking the underside of the head, watching chris’ face.
“want it,” leon mumbles, sucking it gently and stroking the rest of the length with his hand. “want it real bad.”
that’s also the thing about leon - when he dives deep into the “subspace,” as the internet would call it, his sentences get choppier and shorter, communicating only his most basic desires. sometimes it gets so bad he can’t speak properly, just incoherent babbling and nonsense words. it’s when times get like that that chris has to stop their playtime and calm leon down a little, getting his head clearer.
“c’mere, sit on my fingers real quick,” chris commands softly and leon dutifully crawls up, grabbing chris’ wrist, slowly penetrating himself on chris’ thick fingers. “good… good boy.”
leon whines, moaning brokenly when chris hooks his fingers cruelly, digging fingertips into that spot inside him.
“keep your eyes open, lee, i wanna see ‘em,” chris orders. “ride my fingers.”
dark eyelashes flutter as eyelids open and blue eyes meet hazel, black pupils blown so wide only two thin rings of color are visible on both sets of eyes. leon grinds his hips down, twisting to get a better angle. his free hand anchors itself on chris’ stomach, fingers splayed wide, providing stability to leon. his thighs and arms are already trembling from the impending force of his orgasm.
“close, i-fuck,” leon whimpers, raising and lowering his lower half to mimic the thrust of chris’ dick. “want your cock, please-”
chris watches in awe at how this man - former dso agent, former r.p.d. rookie cop, someone who was cool and collected not so long ago - had crumbled to pieces, had fallen apart so easily. how had leon, someone who was addicted to the drink, someone who suffered so many traumas, so easily given such an intimate part of himself to chris, a bsaa agent? how had leon given himself so easily to him?
“i want it, chris- please,” leon begs, crying moans and whimpering pathetically. “have it?”
before chris had completed the permission leon thought he needed to sit on chris’ cock, leon had his long legs stapled to either side of chris’ hips, slowly impaling himself. he cries out, choking on his words, his thank you ’s, his i love you ’s.
leon’s walls stretched wonderfully to accommodate chris’ massive size, filling the younger man up so, so beautifully.
“my god, lee-” chris says, surprised at how quickly leon descended, worried if leon had hurt himself in the process. “are you okay?”
leon grins, biting his bottom lip, capturing the flesh between his teeth. a bead of sweat drips down his forehead. he hums pleasantly, lifting his hips just barely and grinding down hard. his vision blurs, brain blanking out a little.
“lee-?” chris asks, placing a large, warm hand on leon’s hip to stop him. “talk to me.”
leon blinks, eyebrows furrowing, confused as to why chris was stopping him.
“you good?” chris asks again, cupping leon’s jawline gently, running his thumb over the man’s cheek.
leon nods, murmuring, “mhm. s’good, chrissy. fills me so good. so full o’you. feel you s’deep.”
chris heart skips a bit when leon cracks his eyes open a bit, seeing the amount of trust and love in them. leon leans into chris’ touch, leaning forward a bit and rolling his hips, long and slow. his hands brace his weight on chris’ broad shoulders.
“don’t ever wanna stop ridin’ you… don’t wanna stop feelin’ you so… so deep, so big, chrissy,” leon moans, tilting his head to kiss chris’ hand, starting with his fingers, to his palm to his wrist.
chris sits up, moving to lean against the headboard. in this position, he can help leon rise and fall, to get the utmost pleasure out of the ride.
leon’s head falls forward, forehead pressed against chris’, panting and moaning right in his ear. his lip bleeds from his teeth digging into it to try and hold off his orgasm. he doesn’t want to come too early, but fuck , chris feels too good and whatever chris is saying, praise or whatever is pushing him ever closer.
chris guides leon’s hips, two large hands on the man’s slender hips or cupping underneath his butt.
leon is warm, both inside and out, face flushed and skin damp and hot to the touch. his muscles tremble, weak and tired from fucking himself on chris’ cock for so long. both men are breathless, panting and stealing each other’s breath for the sake of breathing.
chris talks aimlessly, having been the type to never shut the hell up during intimate times like these, always praising his partners, always telling them how they’re doing for him, how good they feel, how good they’re making him feel.
some of chris’ former partners hated this, but leon drinks it up, loves it, adores the attention, always wants more of it. he buries his face into chris’ neck, biting bruises and moaning his name.
“fuck lee, you’re so fucking hot, like your cunt is trying to melt my cock off,” chris murmurs, ghosting his fingers up leon’s spine, pushing the man’s hips down and pinning him there. “so wet, honey, so wet for me, hm? what a slut…”
leon whines, keening loudly, wriggling his hips, trying to escape chris’ huge fucking paws.
“so pretty too. all small and what a lithe figure, so thin you are. you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are? when the moonlight highlights your curves in the best possible ways, when the sun’s rays streaks across your face. everybody wants a piece of you. everyone. you got any idea how many times i catch people staring you? watching your ass in those tight jeans of yours, the ones that cup your ass so perfectly. wondering how your mouth would look around their cocks, buried in their pussies.” chris grabs leon’s hair and tanks him out of the crook of his neck. he plants a hard, possessive kiss on his lips, leon groaning into the kiss. “little do they know you belong to me, my little lion, my kitten.”
leon nods desperately, cupping chris’ freshly hickied neck. “m’yours, all yours.”
“do you think they wonder if you’re that pale everywhere? long, pale legs wrapping around hips and waists, that pretty mouth begging for more, more, more. such a stark difference between marks of ownership and your skintone, hickeys really pop on you, babydoll.”
leon whimpers, trying to move on chris’ cock again, quickly being stopped by chris’ hands.
“uh, uh. sit there, stay still. ah, there you go. what a pretty little cockwarmer, hm? no, don’t move,” chris chuckles quietly when leon moans in protest. “just sit still while i play with your clit, yeah?”
leon whimpers, bracing his hands on chris’ shoulders. as soon as chris hand goes down between them, gently and absentmindedly fondling leon’s t-cock, leon’s walls clench tightly around chris’ cock. leon whines like a bitch in heat, willing his hips to stay still even though all he wants to do to push up into chris’ soft touch.
“wow, listen to you. excited, are you?” chris murmurs, thumb running over leon’s t-cock.
leon looks so fucking desperate, still holding off his orgasm, wanting to make chris come again first, wanting to make his boyfriend feel good. his tongue darts over his bottom lip, where he tastes blood. oh, right. he ignores it for now, instead focusing on the near-uncomfortable pressure building in his gut.
“pl-please, chris, i-i-” leon pleads, not knowing what he’s begging for exactly. release? permission to move?
chris runs his other hand up leon’s torso, pausing only to flick his nipple before moving onto his neck. day old bruises and older litter the surface, varying in size and shade.
leon squirms, a fire igniting once again from the embers as chris’ cock presses into the spot inside of him, choking on a moan. the fingers down below stop moving and the hand on the side of his neck squeezes lightly.
“did i tell you to move? i don’t recall doing that,” chris scolds, voice low and slightly gravelly.
leon freezes, looking into chris’ eyes widely.
“it’s jus’ so uncomfortable now-” leon excuses, weak and quiet. “please, lemme move, chrissy, please?”
pretending to think, chris resumes touching leon’s t-cock. he slips his thumb if his other hand into leon’s mouth, letting the other suck on it lightly. “okay fine-” leon grins around the thumb in his mouth. “- but . if you can’t make me come in.. say five or ten minutes, you don’t get to come tonight.”
leon’s face falls, even though he knows he can accomplish that task fairly easy. the fastest he’s ever made chris come was three minutes (even though chris would deny that). but chris has hardly ever withheld orgasms as a punishment.
and leon fucking loves it, loves being controlled like this by another person, loves it when somebody else is in charge of his orgasms.
leon bounces and grinds and rolls on chris’ cock, moaning his name and how good he feels, how full he feels inside. “best i’ve ever had, chrissy, you’re the best.”
with isn’t saying much, since leon has only been with two people sexually prior to chris: claire and ada wong. still, chris was the best at giving dick, given he actually had one. the girls used toys on him and even though those were fantastic, nothing compares to the real thing, leon thinks.
“jesus, fuckin’ christ, lee-” chris groans, as leon gets close to the edge, walls clenching erratically and his breathing getting out of whack. “guess you’re close too, hmm?”
leon covers his mouth, eyes closing and eyebrows furrowing tightly, as he comes hard, brain blanking bright white for a while. his body rendered useless as he recovers, chris pulling out and jacking to completion over both of their chests.
as soon as leon comes to, he notices the mess that chris made on the two of them and leaves on shaky legs, knees wobbling as he returns with a damp washcloth. chris wasn’t even out, he was just sleepy as hell right now, and he lets leon clean off both if their chests. leon grabs two pairs of boxers and slips on one pair, throwing the other pair at chris.
rummaging around in chris’ shirt drawer, leon withdraws his favorite one - a pale blue shirt with a picture of a cat on it. he slips it on, and although he and chris have a few inches difference in height, it mostly their figures that separate their clothes.
chris is wide, built for brute strength and bear hugs and leon is slim, specializing in speed and stealth. and this is exactly why chris’ shirt stops just above leon’s knees.
“you look too cute in my clothes,” chris mumbles. “c’mere, m’gonna cuddle the fuck outta you.”
leon smiles, giggling as he crawls into bed, pressing his full weight up against chris. immediately, he’s swamped by chris’ huge-ass arms. it’s not until he’s drifting off that he remembers dinner, cold and out on the counter.