nikki •0•

You’d already rolled your eyes at Jack's expression when he saw how freely you let Leon touch you, a look that screamed of ‘you’re really letting him touch you like that?’ mixed with some sort of envy. You couldn’t find the energy to care anymore, lazily answering with a murmured, “body heat thing.” 

The tension between you and Jack grew as the clock ticked. Whatever energy that had shifted, solely on his part, had been spurring him to make quick one off handed comments here and there. You just about had it with the way he talked about Leon, almost regretting your decision to pair up. Not having any idea why this random stranger felt so entitled to you, you rapidly shut down any weird advances he made, reinforced by Leon’s deep rumbling. 

In addition to his snarky comments, the universe was showing just how much it truly loved you. Standing in the middle of the largest lab you’d ever seen, dead zombie guts splayed on the floor, chairs strewn and knocked over, Leon’s hands still obsessively touching you, and now Jack's grating voice in your ear, you wanted to scream. There was no cure. 

Well, if there was- it wasn’t here. You’d managed to log onto the computer, the password conveniently being written on a sticky note that was stuck to the top frame. If it was right, the cure- or the basis for the cure- should’ve been in the small metal fridge. It wasn’t. 

You shined the flashlight everywhere, eyes scanning through all the notes, searching the lab for any other documents, hints, ideas, throwing book after book at the ground when you found nothing. Your heart was pounding, ears ringing, jaw clenched. You felt like for the first time since everything, you were actually losing it. 

“What’s your issue? It wouldn’t have fixed your dog,” Jack spat, almost as if he was amused watching you hastily search through documents and fail, while he stood there uselessly. Your eye twitched, a small sarcastic smile forming on your face. 

You exhaled, carefully choosing the words you wanted to sourly spit back. “Do you think I’m fucking dumb, Jack?” At the aggressive edge of your tone, Leon’s hands finally stilled, settling on keeping one splayed on the curve of your waist. He wasn’t growling, but his head had turned directly towards Jack, white gaze pointedly staring. Observing. Waiting. Like if you decided to say the word, Leon wouldn’t hesitate. Like a good guard dog.

The faux pleasing tone came next. “I think you’d agree that a cure would be in your best interest too, right, Jack? Or do you want to live the rest of your life with zombies? I don’t think you’d have much time left, honestly, walking around with a fucking pipe,” you bitterly replied, unclenching your hands that had subconsciously formed into fists. 

Jack scoffed, arms crossing over his chest before he smirked, ignoring Leon’s burning look. “What’s got you so stressed, baby? Puppy can’t please you?”

Leon’s fingers curled into your waist, but instead of wincing away, you grounded yourself in the feeling letting it anchor you. Focus on his touch, focus on his touch.

He didn’t growl, didn’t make a noise, just stared directly at Jack. Leon was always freezing cold to the touch. Now it felt like there was a heat radiating off of him, like a burning anger that was flaring up inside, hand hot on your skin. You could feel the pounding of your pulse throb in your head, the silence thick in the room as you let his words hang. 

Jack’s smugness slowly drained from him, awkwardness replacing his prior bold composure as he became clearly uncomfortable by your lack of response. His fingers rhythmically tapped against his arm, eyes now looking around the room instead of just at you.

Usually you weren’t so rash, so petty, but the combination of a random man who clearly wanted something from you mixed with no fucking hope of a cure mixed with this entire zombie apocalypse had you at your wits end. Plus, the fact that the man you were in love with- or falling in love with— was now a loving zombie. Fuck. Everything felt hopeless. 

You had been so kind, wanting the best for the three of you, wanting- no hoping- that Jack successfully found what he was looking for so you could feel some semblance of optimism. So that you could feel like maybe good things could come out of something horrible. You thought of Leon. 

With a quiet but long breath, you ultimately chose to ignore Jack's attempt at riling you up, instead opting to turn yourself around in Leon’s arms, hand still planted firmly on your waist. Leon had never seen you like this, only having been exposed to your sweet, concerned behavior, but he could tell by the look on your face, the edge to your tone, that something was wrong.

And it was all because of Jack. That he knew.

Slithering your hands around Leon’s toned waist, you planted your chin on his chest looking directly up at him, eyes wide and lips jutted in the smallest of pouts. 

Finally, Leon tore his gaze from Jack, white irises now focused solely on you. Your movement was bold, for you at least, but you tried to fight back the blush that warmed your face, tried to keep your behavior confident. 

Jack's comment bothered you more than you revealed, baffled at the idea that Jack almost thought Leon was some sort of competition. There was never a competition, and there would never be one. 

Leon, zombie or not, would win time and time again. He could’ve been an actual zombie that ripped away at you, and you still would’ve picked him over that. 

But the fact still remained. Jack himself, had the audacity to believe he was in some sort of contest that he had made up in his own head, against Leon. You wanted to scoff at the thought. 

Leon’s free hand raised to cup your cheek, fingers delicately dancing across your skin that had recently been decorated with scratches and dust. He looked at you like you were everything. Your hands rubbed at his back, feeling the hardness beneath his uniform. 

He leaned down, gifting you a slight nose kiss that made your eyes automatically crinkle and lips curve upward, before moving on towards your neck. Truthfully you had been almost mortified the first time he licked you, blushing profusely like a school girl getting her first kiss, thinking of how you’d explain that to Jack if he saw. Now, you wanted him to see. Wanted to get it through his thick skull that there was no place for him here. 

You felt prideful that Leon seemed to be able to read your mind, knew exactly what you meant. Or maybe if he didn’t, that on his own volition he too wanted to show Jack where his place was. You didn’t have to say or ask for anything, and it made your heart skip a beat. He was quiet, silent in his victory. Jack already knew where he stood and hated it.

At the first contact of his tongue against your neck, you couldn’t hold back the sigh that released from you. Your eyes fluttered shut letting Leon do as he pleased, hand still cupping your cheek as you leaned into his warmth. Unlike last time, which felt rushed and eager, Leon took his time, tongue gently lapping at your pulse. 

Your breathing picked up, still quiet yet heavier, too focused on his breath hot on your neck. He wasn’t planting kisses, but you could feel his lips touch the spots he licked, tenderly mouthing along the side of your neck. He moved lower, trailing his tongue further, tonguing your flushed skin. The hand that cupped your cheek dropped as he switched hands, gently tugging at your hair to expose the untouched side of your neck. 

Little pants escaped you, eyes glazed over and set on Leon. He leaned back in, but harsher this time. You could hear the wetness of his tongue, the saliva that dripped from his mouth as he made a mess, the vulgar noise sending heat to your face. 

Your eyes snapped open remembering that there was an unwanted guest in the room. You hadn’t thought that the both of you would’ve gotten so… intense. Leon quietly whined as you gently pushed him back just enough so that you could turn around to face Jack again.

He stood, eyes wide and mouth open like a trout. Frozen in place, eyes locked in on the both of you like a car accident he couldn’t look away from. You didn’t tell Leon to stop when you felt his lips continue their work on your neck from behind, fingers finding their rightful place on your waist.

A small fake laugh escaped from your lips, eyes jokingly rolling and smile decorating your face as you did your best to put on a put together friendly voice. You gently shook your head. “Body heat thing, ammirite?” 

It was comical in a sense how rattled Jack looked, absolutely blind sided from the act you just pulled. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing right in his face. 

Leon pulled back, a string of saliva following and stretching from his slightly parted jaw to the side of your neck. He didn’t pay attention to Jack, eyes narrowed in on the little wet patches that decorated your skin. Jack remained silent, but the look on his face screamed everything. 

“So, there’s no cure or anything I guess. I’m not sure what you’re planning but I think we’re ready to get out of here and split,” you spoke, breaking the silence first. It was funny how fast your anger seemed to disappear after the little stunt. 

But clearly, it only heightened jacks. He stood, silent. Watching. Movements small but not unnoticed by you.

His grip on the pipe tightened and for a split second you thought he might swing. He knew you were out of bullets now. You tensed, trying to calculate just how fast you might be able to dodge him, trying to plan what you could do to take him down. 

You quietly sighed in relief when you heard him huff in fake amusement, figuring he’d take the verbal way out. Leon wouldn’t let you get hurt, but there was no doubt that Jack would be able to get a handful of hits in, and you’d be damned if Leon was the only one to receive them. 

A small ‘tch’ noise sounded from the man, and you could hear the heaviness of his breath growing louder and louder. Your intention was to make it clear that Jack didn’t even come as a second thought to you, motive fueled by what you thought was some twisted idea of ownership that he had developed for you in the span of your short time together. It still seemed beyond incomprehensible that a random stranger could feel angry at your display of affection, even if it was for the purpose of eliciting a reaction. 

A reaction he had no reason to rightfully feel.

“You know,” and he scoffed your name like he was hurling an insult at you. “I saved your life. Your little zombie boyfriend was nowhere to be found when you had your little freak out in that morgue room back there. I could’ve stood there, watched them eat away at you- let you die.” 

You slightly tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to understand the point of what he was saying. Leon had wandered off, he hadn't led you into that room that you got yourself into and ditched you. There was no blame to hold over him. 

“I think you’d find it wise to show me some respect. Next time I just might let you get bit- if your boyfriend doesn’t do it first.” He took a large step forward. 

A low growl rumbled from right behind you, Leon’s fingers curling into you. 

With your patience wearing thin all over again, your jaw slightly gaped open as you internally cursed at how dramatic the man was. A fucking zombie apocalypse and there’s drama about this? You rolled your eyes, trying to gather yourself before you lost it and said something stupid. 

You’re out of bullets.

Leon’s possessive and defensive growls were background noise, your hand coming to rub at your forehead and pinch the bridge of your nose as you processed a response. This was all so absurd. 

“Alright Jack, I think we’ve done enough together now. There’s no cure for anything here, so there’s no point for me to keep exploring this shit hole. Thanks for your help, good luck now,” you deadpanned, exhaling and prying Leon’s fingers from your waist to move on. 

The lab was huge, but you were positive you’d torn through every shred of paper, any file you could get your hands on. The computer was a lost cause in and of itself. You needed to get the fuck out of here. There was no time for this petty bullshit and you’d already entertained it enough, already participated. 

“Seriously?? You’re going to just walk off with him again? There’s no cure- just leave him!” Jack sneered, tone sharp and full of anger. He threw his free hand up, gesturing to Leon like he was some sort of freak show. Well.

“Okay Jack, we’re just gonna go now, alright?” You spoke slow and calmly now, voice almost sweet but entirely apprehensive. As each second passed his behavior grew more and more aggressive. This was not someone you wanted to argue with anymore. 

Slowly you stepped back, light and gentle as if you didn’t want him to notice. You didn’t. Your hand closed around Leon’s taking him with you. He silently growled, but let you move him.

The man threw his head back and laughed, a big belly hearty noise that echoed off the labs walls and surrounded you. You froze, heart racing not from anger and frustration this time, but from a newfound fear. You thought zombies would be your biggest issue, but you weren’t sure if that was true anymore.

Your grip on Leon tightened, unsure of what to do as you frantically tried to think of how to get out of this. Jack was a coordinated living man who could react, who could gauge things, not a zombie that only wanted to eat your guts. He’d be harder to dodge, especially if he started swinging. 

Leon stared at Jack, his feet planted in place right next to you. You didn’t know what he was thinking this time, mind too panicked on how you’d possibly get out of this. Neither of you could do much if you got smashed in the head. 

You didn’t say anything, chest rising and falling, palms starting to become damp. You thought your hands were begging to shake. You waited for what felt like forever, for jack to show his cards first.

He rested a hand on his stomach, dramatically sighing as if he was recovering from a hard laugh with an old friend. “God, this is just perfect for you isn’t it? I fell for your trap right? Make me jealous, lead me on… and then you pull that stunt?”

You had to hide the look on your face, had to stop your jaw from hitting the floor. Your breath hitched, eyes widening and for once, you felt relieved that there was no electricity to reveal just how taken aback you were. This had to be some sort of sick joke. You didn’t dare move, silently begging Leon to do the same.

There was no movement, no shift of your hand, no squeeze in Leons. you didn’t dare move an inch, horrified that Jack would be set off. You were unable to wrap your mind around his words. 

“Hm? Nothing to say? Because you know I’m right?” He pushed, taking another step forward, the pipe that hung in his hand begged for your attention but you didn’t dare risk moving your eyes from him.

The room was sizable, Jack needing to cross at least 20 feet before being in proximity of the both of you and still, he felt too close.

You didn’t blink, didn’t breathe, body frozen and eyes unwavering as you stared at him, words so caught up in your throat you couldn’t find it in you to respond. Maybe it was because you were too naive, too hopeful, but you hadn’t been prepared for Jack to become a threat. 

“Jack,” you tried, voice breathless and unsteady. The air in the lab had grown too thick, too sticky almost, and the way it prickled at your skin made your stomach sick, beads of sweat forming at the nape of your neck and sides of your brow. You became hyper aware of the energy in the room, the faint buzzing of the static in the too still air, Jack's heavy breaths, Leon’s complete stillness that if you weren’t holding his hand, you wouldn’t have even known he was there. 

He didn’t respond, muscles flickering in his jaw from where he was visibly clenching his molars, mouth set in an ugly snarl as if you’d truly done something so offensive and vile. 

“Jack. We should go,” you spoke and it took everything in you to keep your words calm and firm, putting on a facade that maybe- if you ignored how crazy he was acting, he might relax and listen. A small huff of air left him as he kissed his teeth, an exaggerated smile growing on his face. He nodded his head to himself and your grip on Leon tightened, nails more likely than not digging into his calloused palms as you prepared to yank him back with you. 

“Come here,” and your name rolled of his tongue low and gravelly, his eyes glued to yours. You would’ve scoffed if it weren’t for how dire the situation was, the thought of him thinking he had the ability to call you over towards him like a dog was extremely laughable. Just not now.

You stayed put, feet glued to the floor and hand still clutching Leon’s. He hadn’t moved either, didn’t even go as far as tilt his head at Jack or flex his fingers in yours. No growling, no grumbling, just silence. 

With a long and loud sigh like he was being forced to do something against his will, something he didn’t want to do, he bolted. 

“Jack, no!” You screamed, eyes wide and full of panic as you realized he was genuinely about to take everything way too far. You should’ve known better than to doubt a psycho. 

In the blink of an eye, Jack was rapidly crossing the room, veins bulging in his neck and forehead as his hands that were latched around the metal pipe raised it high, clear with one intent. 

Your heart pounded, brain not fully processing and hitting on all cylinders as you watched his movement, the anger on his face, the whiteness of his knuckles. Everything was moving too fast now, a complete 180 from the stillness that suffocated the air just a minute ago, but now it felt as if you could feel everything, every heightened emotion, every thought, every synapse that fired off in your brain, but as his pipe raised higher in the air, it felt like it was too late for you to act.

“Oomph!”

Your body flew to the side, grunting on impact as you hit the ground, or well, as you landed in a set of arms, right at the exact moment as a loud thwip of the air sounded from above you. Right where you had been standing. 

Leon, who had thrown himself into you just as Jack took a swing, hit the floor with barely a grunt, taking the fall as his thick forearms wrapped tightly around your torso, a hand protectively cupping the back of your head. 

As quick as Leon was there to shield you, he was just as quick to help you stand, gentle yet hurried as he silently urged you behind him, hands rapidly running over your cheeks and arms before he turned to face Jack.

Leon was silent, white irises unshakable as they stuck to Jack, an arm behind him to make sure you were actually behind him. Everything was moving too fast now. Your chest heaved. Leon  stood tall, but guarded. 

Jack snickered, almost pleased as if Leon reacted exactly as he was supposed to, but you could see the anger seep under his skin, frustration revealing itself whether he expected his movements or not. It wasn’t what he wanted. 

You stayed put behind Leon.

“Dumb zombie,” he spat, and took his time to lift the pipe, thinking Leon would wait for the swing to react. As soon as he raised the pipe, Leon launched himself from where he stood, arm wrapping around jacks torso and the other hand going for his wrist that held the pipe. 

Gasping you ran forward, unsure of what to do but not wanting to intervene and make matters worse or harder for Leon. 

Jack wasn’t particularly tall or strong or good looking, just your plain and average joe, and even if he was, you didn’t think he would hold up much fight against Leon. 

It was the strangest thing, honestly, the way Leon could be so lethargic, so easy to lead or pull and just overall a little puppy, but you had seen it before in him, seen it in other zombies. 

The unexplainable drive and hunger that absolutely consumes and takes over them. How once they finally dig their hands into what they want, nothing can stop them. Pure power and strength.

And while the thought usually flustered you, you were finally seeing Leon's strength come into play against a human, the horrifying fact that sent a chill down your spine. You wouldn't stand a chance against Leon. Not in the slightest.

It was the way other zombies got when they were about to dig into their next meal, and it was the way Leon got when a threat revealed itself to you. He didn’t bare his teeth at Jack, didn’t growl. Just pinned him down as if it was a mere chore.

Jack let out several grunts as he struggled and squirmed beneath Leon, hands pushing at his chest and trying to get out from under him. Leon fought back almost coolly, like Jack had been his easiest opponent yet. One hand pinned his wrist that held the pipe, fingers digging into it so harshly that he dropped it with a loud clang. His other hand maneuvered to wrap around his neck. 

He didn’t try to kill him. Yet. He waited for you to say the word.

“Tell him to get the fuck off me, you bitch!” Jack spat and you would’ve laughed at how pathetic he sounded, how red in the face he got from Leon’s increasingly tighter grip. 

You sped forward, kicking the pipe away from his reach. 

“Are you gonna be a good puppy Jack? Or does Leon need to rip your throat out to teach you a lesson?” You seethed, anger finally seeping into you. 

“Fuck- fuck you!” He choked out and you reveled in the sight as he let out noises of panic as Leon began to lean in, mouth inching closer towards his neck. “Wait- wait, stop!” 

Leon’s gaze fluttered to yours for just a moment to seek your approval, but you shook your head. Leon paused.

“Please- I’m sorry! W-We can split up, just, fuck, please don’t kill me!” 

Gaze narrowing on the sight of him squirming and panicking, you forced yourself to exhale to slow the thrumming of your pulse and the pounding in your head, to try and still the moment and make a rational decision. You didn’t want to kill him, didn’t want to hurt anybody at all. All you wanted was to get out of this place, take Leon home with you and crawl under the covers and mourn what used to be, grieve the life you might’ve had with Leon if he was still human. 

The feeling of sharp stinging prickled at your eyes and a burning sensation ran up and down your throat, adrenaline a fleeting impression as Leon held Jack down, forcing everyone to still while you processed what he had just done. You held back your tears, not because some stranger betrayed you, but because you were so beyond fed up with every single thing, so beyond defeated that there was no give in anything you tried to do, and the one chance at finding someone who might have, or could have, had the same goals as you, turned on you for not showing him any affection? Want? Lust? 

Leons fingers curled into jacks flesh, a bruising and unrelenting grip that was meant to hurt, meant to dig and make him value that pain over the other choice of getting the contents of his neck mauled out. Leon waited patiently, white irises now flickering between Jacks and yours, but you could see the way they lingered on you, the first sign of anger he showed as he gave the smallest of snarls. He was almost calculative, observing the signs of panic and distress in your body like he knew exactly what you were thinking and feeling. You thought he might make the decision himself. 

“You were trying to hurt me, Jack.”  you hated the way your voice cracked at the end, hurt and realization tasting bitter on your tongue as you let reality sink into once more. A fucking zombie apocalypse and then this? He would’ve killed you had he hit you hard enough. Would he have made sure you were dead? 

He sputtered babbling words and sentences that didn’t quite make sense, hissing as Leon’s fingers pressed harder and a small rumbling began, trying to find anything that would suffice as an excuse to justify hitting you with a metal pipe that would leave you begging for death if hit hard enough in the wrong spot. 

“I won’t, I-I I’m sorry, I wouldn’t- just get him off, p-please!” 

Clenching your jaw, you ran your tongue over the back of your teeth as you contemplated your decision. You knew you weren’t going to have Leon gut him, so it left only one option. You sighed reluctantly, nodding your head, unable to find the words to grant his satisfaction. 

Leon looked disappointed, frustrated almost at letting such a threat walk free, and more importantly, free around you. The deep grumbling in his chest revealed his unhappiness in the choice, not that he tried to hide it. 

Jack exhaled in relief, throwing his head back against the dirtied rotten floor, wincing and moving to rub at the spots where Leon had gripped, splotches of dark red already beginning to form. 

Leon stood, more stable and steady than ever as he stared Jack down, predicting his next movements. Head tilted and eyes sharp, he only seemed to look more murderous and threatening, and god were you glad he was on your side. 

With heavy breaths, Jack finally made the attempt to stand, shakily taking a few steps back from Leon and unintentionally closer towards you, sneakers squeaking. 

But he didn’t look apologetic, just angry that his plan fell through.

His nose crinkled and his breaths picked up, each heavier than the last like he was forcing each huff of air through his nostrils to come out like a bull ready to charge. He stared at Leon just as fiercely, and without a word he spun, quickly catapulting himself directly at you.

Gasping, your eyes widened and you rapidly brought your arms up to shove him back, but the force was too strong, hitting you like a defensive lineman and you had the ball. The hit sent the both of you flying, and with no one to intercept your fall and take the hit, you slammed fast and hard on the tiled floor, pain shooting through your back, and brain rattling in your skull.

You groaned, vision swarming with double and inklings of black dancing in your sight as your hands twitched. Too slow, you were too slow to move, to process, to defend yourself.

You couldn’t even react other than the little pathetic movements of your jaw that opened and shut, not even reacting when the body above you was immediately thrown off and away with far more impact than you had been hit with. 

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, seconds feeling like minutes feeling like hours, no concept of time as muted growls and yells blurred into background noise, vision unclear as you zoned out. Wetness pooled at the nape of your neck.

Focus, you’re fine, you’re okay.

But the dull ache that stemmed from the back of your head slowly began to wrap around your entire skull. There were choked noises, gurgled screams and the sound of flesh tearing, of flesh being forcibly ripped apart, clashing of teeth and bone and guttural seething. None of it registered.

A pit formed in your stomach, then the room spun, and you were turning, no, you were rolling your body over as fast as you could force it, painfully puking up your guts. Tears blurred your sight from the intensity, fingers attempting to find purchase in the broken tiles. 

Then there were hands on you- but the confusion and panic and pain had all blurred into one. You were too unfocused on what it was, who it was. All you could think about was the thrumming of your own pulse pounding right behind your eyes. You hurled again, lack of food causing you to spit up whatever liquid your body could muster- ah fuck, and the granola bar Leon had found you. 

Definitely concussed.

You groaned, slowly and unsteadily trying to force your body onto all fours.

Move move move. You’re not safe here, not safe.

But the hands again, shaky but more firm. They traced down your spine, fingers dancing lightly against your sides, small silent breaths and whimpers panting near you. The figure moved closer and around you to directly position itself in front of you, kneeling.

You lost the strength to keep your head up, a string of saliva connecting from your mouth to the puddle of your bile on the floor and you prayed your limbs didn’t give out so that you wouldn’t have to fall face first in your own vomit. 

“F-fuck,” you mumbled, slightly slurred as your lips tingled, struggling to fully move and take shape. You blinked, then blinked again harder to try and rid all stars of your vision, to make the doubling of the entire room fade. 

Warm wet hands found your cheeks, touch so light you weren’t sure if they were actually on you until your chin was being gently lifted up. A sigh of relief escaped you, pressure of having to support it yourself, not even, of having it dangle, being lifted off of you.

Leon. You’re Leon in all of his horrifying glory. 

He was covered, drenched, in blood. It stuck in his hair, coated the bottom half of his face, his uniform, his hands. The sheer amount dripped from his chin, and if your eyes could focus, you would have noticed the tiny chunks that decorated him too. You lazily grinned, not at the sight of blood, but at him.

“L-Leon…” you were weakened beyond belief, an injury and struggle that couldn't just be walked off this time. 

The position on all fours was unhelpful, an entire pain radiating throughout your entire back with each labored breath and suddenly the floor was much much closer than before, arms losing their ability to hold you up right.

Leon whimpered, white irises scanning your face, frantically darting from your head to your lips to your body to him. 

He couldn’t speak and your thoughts were so jumbled up you weren’t even quite sure what happened, but still, part of you knew, could feel the panic and worry that Leon was radiating. His hands danced around your face and your elbows were bending more and more, legs were slipping from their position and Leon closed in on you, nose rubbing yours, eye lashes tickling your skin as if it might help you, as if it might cure you. 

He pulled away, exhaling in frustration and groaning loudly as he shook his head side to side. You collapsed, cheek not finding cold tile but instead muscular thighs. Black Splotches danced all around the air, blinking only to find more adorning your vision, but fuck were you so tired. a tempting drag that wanted to lull you to sleep and it felt so good to give in, to instead of blink and force them open to just give in.

A whine sounded above you, hands raked through your hair. A part of you felt bad causing Leon to worry, but his hands just felt so good, so comforting. You’d rest your eyes just for a moment. Recoup your thoughts. Just for a minute.

When you woke, you were in a different room. The wall in front of you spun and you groaned, raising your blood splattered hands to dig your palms into your eye sockets. Your head was killing you. 

A noise sounded behind you, a pathetic little whine mixed with a groan and growl all in one that had you shifting and realizing the position you were in. Leon laid behind you propped against a wall, your body tucked and nestled gently in between his legs, your back comfortably resting against his chest. One strong arm was wrapped around your torso, hand splayed wide to keep you close while the other gently patted and played with strands of your hair, head perfectly positioned under his chin.

“Leon,” the words were less than a whisper, throat far too dry it felt like sandpaper, but it was enough. Enough for Leon to hear and whimper again, for him to clutch you tighter towards him and press his cheek to the top of your head as if you were a precious stuffed animal. 

“I’m okay baby, I’m okay.” The statement was somewhat a lie, but the concussion wasn’t deadly, more so an added annoyance to the hell you were going through, but at this rate it seemed the universe was strongly against you. Leon groaned again, his tone sounding every bit of argumentative and final, not needing words to absolutely tell you that no you were not okay. 

He nuzzled into you, arms constricting tighter and tighter but not painful. You let yourself be squished, the feeling of being held so desperately a foreign experience. But then his hand left you, momentarily, but too long for your liking. 

The two of you needed to move, but for the first time, you wanted to indulge yourself in a longer period of rest trapped in the embrace of something that made your heart flutter inside of its ribcage. 

You slowly turned, and like the usual surprise that would course through you when Leon would surprise you over and over again, you relished in it now more than ever, grin automatically growing on your features and eyes welling with tears.

Another granola bar and a sealed bottle of water. How the fuck did Leon find that??

You sniffled, overwhelmed with the admiration you held for Leon, shifting and turning in his hold so that your cheek rested against his chest, arms snaking around his small waist to cling to him. You let the tears fall, hiding your face into his chest, completely exhausted and completely smitten. 

“T-thank you, Leon,” you cried and his fingers curled, grasping the fabric of your clothes tightly. 

Minutes passed until Leon released a hand, being the ever so responsible zombie to motion towards the water and granola bar- the latter less appetizing given your earlier sickness. you sat up, chugging the liquid an almost one entire go.

Your gaze focused on Leon, face and clothes smeared with blood, but you could tell he tried- tried so hard to wipe at the gore that had stained his face and neck. the gore from jack.

If Leon could blush like a puppy being scolded, he would have, features contorting into what could only be described as shame and disappointment. his white eyes fluttered, turning his head to stare at the ground to shield how monstrous he looked. He was exactly that. A monster, a zombie. He killed someone and he didn't care. enjoyed it if anything, and if he had the ability to do so, he would have done it earlier.

A faint rumbling vibrated in his chest. He failed to protect you once. It wasn't supposed to happen again. 

instead it was worse.

watching your body be pummeled by a man twice your size, your frail body slamming into the tiled floor with such force that it had your body locking up as if it was momentarily glitching, unable to process the devastating hit. 

he was ashamed, fearful. He waited for you to show it. to scold him and panic and run to leave him. maybe you'd try to kill him. realize he was no different from any other zombie at all and needed to be put down. 

you winced, positioning yourself to sit back on your thighs in between his broad legs as your eyes scanned his face, read the look in his eyes that caused a mixture of gratefulness and guilt to pool in the bottom of your stomach. He had saved you. saved you again.

"Leon, sweetheart," you cooed, slowly resting your palms against his now chilled cheeks, fingers brushing away the bloody strands of hair that laid against his forehead. "you saved me. again."

and like clockwork, like every time you tried to praise your devoted zombie boy, he mumbled in protest. in disagreement. you never should have been hit in the first place, never been hurt. 

you wondered if he had felt scared, but thought was dismissed as soon as it formed. a stupid question. you had seen it in his eyes, in his actions, the way his hands had hovered and ran over your body in some sort of attempt to soothe both you and him. with no real solution, with nothing he could actually do, Leon was helpless. 

with the way he held you while you were unconscious, you knew he wouldn't have left you alone. would have held you while you died. would he have bit you? turned you? you prayed if he did, you'd become like him. succumbing to an eternity of death with him by your side didn't seem so bad.

Shaky thumbs swiped against his cheek, under his lash line, and gently you gripped his chin to face you. You leaned in, lips pressing a soft kiss to a bloodless spot on his forehead. 

"you saved me, Leon. I'm sorry for making you do that." and suddenly his hands were mirroring yours, cupping your cheeks and frantically shifting to rub his nose against yours again. 

it was twisted, basking in this moment after what had happened, but you hadn't decided for things to go this way. jack did. 

a small grin, your cheeks warmed. hands found his wrists to lightly back him away. you scanned the hallway you were in, eyes widening and jaw going completely slack when it clicked. Leon had found the exit, had dragged or carried you all this way.

"Holy shit leon. You did it- you found it!" you were standing before you could think, standing far too fast for the trauma your body had just been forced through and you winced, hands gripping your head and squeezing your eyes shut.

but Leon was there. Leon was always there. Already up, hands gripping your waist to steady you. You didn't know what he could feel, what he could remember. but Leon looked at you like you were everything. you didn't need words to know that.

With a shaky exhale, your hands found his, interlocking your fingers and smiling like he had hung the moon. the two of you would escape. go back to your apartment and wait whatever the fuck the two of you needed to wait out. you would figure it out.

You've just returned from finishing your entire university course, settled into an affordable apartment on the other side of your home town, and now you're hoping to unwind by spending some time with your parents. Unfortunately, you picked a pretty shit day to do so - your Christian parents had volunteered themselves to bring a bunch of food and drink to their annual church summer barbecue. Although they offered to reschedule, you decided a heap of free food and drinks wouldn't be so bad, even if it's eating from the tables of the church you left many years ago.

Perching yourself on the hot, scratchy limestone that scraped at the skin of the underside of your thighs a little too much for your liking, you dug into your plate of food as you watched your parents socialise with their church circle. You tried to make yourself appear as small as possible, after all, you knew a few faces - especially the younger members who are now your age. You slightly regret coming along now, realising that a few whispers and stares were pointed your way.

'She's no good', 'I heard she's into witchcraft', 'I heard she hangs around very… unsavoury people', 'I heard she had sex… And well before marriage, obviously' …The chatter was incessant.

"Uhh, hey there." A lilted but slightly anxious voice of a man similar in age to you calls out your name. You look up - you see a man with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, with a soft and gentle smile. You remember his face vividly, albeit, his features have sharpened a fair bit since high school. After all, you went to church and high school with him, but you didn't have many classes together, and you decided to renounce your faith when you were in your early teens. He was barely an acquaintance, but he's not an unkind face.

"Leon. Hey… How are you?" You greet him with a small smile, fiddling with the hem of your black tank top.

"Yeah! Wait, y-you remember my name. Sorry - wait, that kinda came out weird. Um… Are you having a good time, being back here? This berry lemonade is really good." Leon nervously stammers as he tries to make conversation, but his smile is genuine and it doesn't falter. You suppose you have an inkling of what he's trying to do - he sees an old face that returns to the church one time and thinks he can bring the odd, eccentric person who dresses exclusively in dark colours back to God. Maybe flip her inside out, wringing her out until the crumpled fabric morphs into pastel pink dress with frilly white lace. But for whatever reason, you decide to humor him some more - maybe your instinct is wrong. Maybe it's out of boredom, maybe it's because he's always been a nice and pleasant person to be around compared to many of your peers when you were still with the church and navigating high school. Maybe it's also because you've always thought he's a pretty cute guy too.

"Hm? Yeah, it's alright. I'm just here because I've moved back to town, and I wanted to catch up with my mum and dad. And I'm glad to hear the berry lemonade is good - since I made it and all." You smile, picking off a stray leaf that floated onto your bare thighs.

"Wait… You made it? Woah." Leon takes another slow sip, with a nod. "Gee, this is really good. Any time my dad tries to make some kind of drink like this, it always kinda tastes… Like water with the idea of a lemon and maybe a single frozen strawberry. Sorry… that wasn't nice to my dad." Leon chuckles, his head shaking slightly. He takes a seat next to you earnestly. "I didn't expect to see you here, much less make something for the annual barbecue." He adds. You raise a brow out of curiosity in response. "Wait, sorry, uh, not to say it like it's a bad thing. It's a really good thing, actually! To see new or returning faces at the church, y'know…" He trails off.

"You're fine." You can't help but smile back a genuine smile as Leon absolutely flounders his way through conversing with you. "Yeah, my parents wanted to do a bit more this year for the annual summer barbecue. But… As usual, they bit off more than they could chew and they totally forgot about the drinks they volunteered to make. So I just did it for them. I have so much free time since I finished university anyway." You shrug.

"Oh… Well, I think it's a really nice thing for you to do. Even if you didn't really entirely want to be here." Leon compliments you.

"Thanks. Well, I don't hate being here. It's just not for me. But the church is important to my mum and dad." You thank him, pushing around a loose pebble in the ground with the toe of your black leather boot. "So you come here and help out with the summer barbecue each year, hey? That's some real dedication. The church and your faith must mean a whole lot to you." You add. Leon's eyes traced the pattern that the pebble was leaving in the dirt from your boot before he began his reply.

"Yeah, oh, for sure. After my folks passed when I was small and Paul - my adoptive dad, took me in when he saved me that day, he taught me all the values of being a good Christian. To be kind, to care for others, and to forgive others. So yeah… My faith is everything, I suppose." Leon nods. "Do you… Do you believe in anything?" He asks. "Wait, sorry, maybe that's personal, you don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable." He adds frantically.

Before you can reply to him, both you and Leon notice the eyes of several of the older ladies at the church, eyeing you down and whispering to each other. You don't know what they're saying. You don't want to know what they're saying. But you could wager a good guess on what they're saying about you - the woman who left the church and caused so much grief for her parents, the woman who doesn't dress prim and proper as a lady should, is lingering around somebody as exceptional and morally upright like Leon Kennedy. The good, Christian boy who shows up to every single church sermon and attends weekly bible group.

Leon sees the staring and whispers, and he does something you wouldn't entirely expect from him. "Hey, do you, um, wanna go for a walk? There's a lake with some trees, just over there. It's nice and… Less prying eyes." He adds the last part in a hushed tone.

"…Yeah. I'd really like that, actually. That sounds good." You nod.

Getting up from the nettlesome limestone, you set your empty plate and cup down before dusting your hands off your black denim shorts and begin to walk on the trail to the nearby lake with Leon, the thicket providing a thin veil of privacy from the watchful eyes of the church ladies.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm stuck in a fishbowl." Leon comments before taking a deep exhale as you both reach a patch of sturdy pine trees that face the small, sparkling lake. You both lean against your own respective tree as you stare at the smooth, almost mirror-like body of water that seems to sparkle as if a pack of silver glitter was dropped on it from above in the hot midday sun. "Am I… Interrogating you? I don't mean to. I'm just genuinely curious and uh, I just don't think I've ever really talked to you before. I'm sorry if I came off as preachy." Leon winces.

"No, seriously, it's fine. It's okay." You reassure him with a small smile. "I admire my parents for having faith in something they hold dear to their hearts. But we have differences in how we view religion - and we've smoothed that over long ago and there's no hiccups at all anymore. It's just… I don't see religion as being my thing, personally. It's far too often abused as a tool to incite hatred or division. And there's too much money caught up in something that should never be about the money. So yeah, religion just simply isn't my thing. I think if you're a good person, then you're a good person. It doesn't matter what label is attached." You explain thoughtfully.

Leon nods as you explain, carefully taking your words in. "I get what you mean. The hatred, the money… There's bad churches out there. Bad people using God as an excuse to grab onto power. That's real, and I can't stand here and pretend it's not." Leon says quietly, as if he were admitting something he perhaps shouldn't. "But… I think people are the ones who mess it up. Not God. I don't think God would want any of that kind of thing. I think he just wants people to love each other… Which, actually, pretty much falls in line with what you just said." Leon smiles, suddenly catches himself feeling a little flushed. "Oh! Not that I'm saying you should become a born-again Christian or something, agh… I'm doing great at this whole conversation thing, huh?" Leon groans softly.

"Hahah, I think you're doing quite well actually. Don't be so hard on yourself. And yeah, I think the point of why religion becomes so contentious, right? We as humans can fundamentally agree on many things, but because the label is different, suddenly we have an urge to make the division between us and them." You pause, looking at him with a soft gaze. "I remember in English class - you told some girls to leave me alone when they were trying to make fun of me while I was reading a book. I know maybe you were disgusted or weirded out by me, but you stuck up for me anyway without hesitation. I should've thanked you back then, but I didn't want them to start rumours or anything. Everyone said I was some kind of satanic freak, but you were nice to me anyway. So… Thank you." You're not entirely sure why you felt the need to recall that memory and thank him, but you did anyway.

"What? I was never disgusted by you. I just… I saw those girls being mean to you and I couldn't ignore it, so I told them to knock it off. I mean- anyone should've done it. I just happened to be sitting close enough to hear it." Leon rubs the back of his neck shyly.

"Yeah… Actually, you're the one who's in the police academy, right? I think you'll make an excellent cop, Leon. I think you're somebody that many people would feel very safe around." You compliment him, and the tips of his ears turn pink. He's never felt so recognised for his kindness and need to protect that he's in a brief state of shock, and he stumbles backwards on a large tree root behind his foot.

"Oh my god! Are you okay!?" You gasp, instinctively reaching out for his hand, before letting out a short, amused laugh the moment he regains his balance. The brief touch was electrifying, both for you and Leon, and he could only stare at you with a gentle look as he observed you. There was something about the way you carried yourself, the way your laugh seemed to sound like a pleasant wind chime, and there was this feeling tugging at the tendrils of Leon's heart that made him want to see you smile more often. But he was determined to not unpack that right now.

"I-I'm fine! I just… Didn't see the root." Leon clears his throat. "T-The root…" He stammers, unsure of why his heart feels like it's absolutely pounding against his ribcage.

"The root." You smile and nod. "Oh, speaking of the police academy, how far out would you be to completing now?" You ask him.

"Three months from now." Leon smiles.

"Woah. And then you're working as a fully fledged rookie cop. Nice! Hey, be careful. Once you're working, all the church aunties are gonna start enacting their designs on you. You'll be 21, employed, and single. The blueprint is that you gotta get engaged by 22, and have a spouse and a white picket fenced house with 2 kids and a golden retriever by 25. No pressure." You joke.

"Oh… I haven't even been thinking about that. With the police academy, training, and bible group taking up most of my time, I've never even dated…" The realisation dawns on Leon that he's soon going to be expected to propose to a nice girl from church within the next 12 months.

"Ah… You'll be fine. They'll be throwing their daughters and granddaughters at you the moment you graduate, I'm sure." You laugh.

"But I've never… Oh. I wouldn't even know where to start." Leon blinks.

"Wait… For real? So you'll just get married to the first person you kinda click with then?" Your eyebrows raise upwards in surprise.

"I-I suppose I'd have to." Leon says sheepishly.

"Whaaat. But then how would you get married without even knowing what you like or what you don't like? Or how you'd like to be treated? I mean, I guess you'd just have to watch porn or something." You drop the mention of pornography so casually, as if it's no big deal. Leon on the other hand, rasps out some kind of strangled cough at the mention of it.

"I don't - no. I don't do that… That's…" Leon stammers quietly, as if the mere mention of pornography would summon God himself and he would strike Leon down with a flash of lightning. He wanted to say pornography was sinful, to reject it outright. But for whatever reason, that final word stayed lodged in his throat. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, unable to meet your gaze. "My dad didn't even have cable when I was young. And the computer is at home in the living room, there's no privacy at all really, so I don't… I've never…" Leon trails off, looking at you with his pale blue eyes. "Is that a normal thing? Do people really do that?" His question came out smaller and more childlike than he thought it would. His question came from genuine curiosity rather than validation of sin. The only structure that Leon ever knew is that people don't do such a thing, but you just described to him a world where people did. And it's a normal thing.

"Oh, well, yeah. A lot of people do. It's personal preference, but statistically, most people do watch porn, yeah." You blink.

"You… You just talk about that kind of stuff like it's nothing." Leon mumbles. It's a nonjudgmental tone, he's simply processing that many other people really don't follow such a Christian way of living.

"Well, it's not nothing, but it's definitely a part of human nature and life. It's sex. Biology." You shrug, turning to him. "So… You really have no idea what you like? Is that even possible? I mean, surely there's something, y'know? Like, I don't know, give me an example of who you think is pretty to look like. Just a random example. Anybody." You ask him.

"I… What?" Leon's eyes dart to the canopy of green leaves above your heads, his eyes following several branches - he just can't seem to bring himself to look you in the eye. "Well, there's this girl… Sarah. She's very friendly. She teaches Sunday school for the kids at the creche." Leon begins. "But I don't… I've never really… Um. She has brown hair?" He says, his gaze dropping to you, and he's wearing an expression that looks completely lost.

"Leon… Are you describing someone you're into, or are you reading off a resume?" You say in an amused tone.

"Y-Yeah, okay, so that's definitely not what you meant. But I don't… I don't think about people like that. I'm not supposed to." Leon's voice lowers, almost reluctant in nature. Leon's eyes flicker - just for a fraction of a second towards you. Thoughts of the way your attentive, pretty eyes watch him with patience instead of judgment, the plushness of your lips as you speak, your thoughtful hums of acknowledgement were the antithesis of what he just spoke into existence. It said something different to what he just said. Something entirely different that he isn't yet ready to name.

You're still oblivious to Leon's gaze. Feeling the bark create little imprints in the skin of your back since you were leaning against it for too long, you push yourself off the tree and begin to stretch. "So, okay, Sarah. What do you think is pretty about Sarah? What is it about her personality that really attracts you?" You ask, holding your outstretched arm by the elbow as you tilt your head back a little, exposing the column of your throat while the curves of your body suddenly become elongated. Leon's eyes can't help but stick to every detail of your face and body like gum stuck under a shoe.

"Um, she has good eyes. And she has a nice smile." Leon begins, hesitating as he examines his compliments about Sarah in his head, wondering if his thoughts are sinful or not. "I… I don't know if I'm doing this right. I-I mean, could you give me some examples?" He asks.

"Oh, okay, well… If someone asked me what I'm attracted to, I'd say I like a guy who takes care of himself. You know, looks after his health and fitness, because it reflects in their figure. Oh! And definitely someone with kind and soft looking eyes. Because it's cute when they… Oh. never mind." You trail off, trying to censor yourself to spare Leon's already splintered Christian brain.

"No, what? What were you going to say?" Leon asks, picking a tiny piece of bark off the tree and fiddling with it. "I mean, you don't have to, I wasn't trying to, um…" His voice wanes. His own expression betrayed him as he spoke - as if you were dangling something just out of reach, and he can't help himself but to lean towards it with an outstretched palm. "Sorry, maybe I shouldn't ask. It's just…Nobody has talked to me like this before. Like I'm allowed to ask these questions." Leon admits, and you feel some strange sensation that you can't quite pinpoint in your chest at his admission.

"Oh, of course you can ask. It's okay." You give him a small reassuring smile. "Just like… Don't call me a filthy harlot or whatever when I tell you this, but… I think it's cute when a guy has kind and soft looking eyes, because it's really cute when they look up at me all doe-eyed when they… You know…" You try your best to be tactful.

"When they… What?" Leon asks.

"When they eat me out." You say bluntly, since he couldn't read between the lines. The sound that Leon let out upon hearing your sentence barely sounded human - like some kind of squawk from a large bird and a high pitched garble. Leon staggers back, the tiny piece of bark falling from his hand as he presses his back into the tree so hard you would think he's trying to recreate a hydraulic press with it.

"I- you... What?" Leon clutches at the silver cross pendant beneath his shirt, but it's already much too late. The imagery is already flooding in - the very vivid vision of your thighs splayed apart, your head lolling back in pleasure as you moan while not just anybody, but Leon himself is down there. His brain slotted himself into the scenario before he could even stop it. "Y-you said that on purpose!" Leon stammers, unceremoniously sliding down the trunk of the tree until he's sat, bring his knees up and squeezing them together. You rush over, terrified that you may have actually given this poor man an aneurysm just from the mere mention of eating pussy.

"I-I'm sorry! I thought… You said you wanted to know!" You apologise, your voice a slightly higher pitch than normal as you scan his beet red face.

"I'm a Christian! We're meant to save ourselves for marriage! I-I'm saving myself for marriage! That's the commitment I made to God… To myself." Leon mumbles, his cheeks incredibly flushed and his eyes a little glassy. He almost looks… A little bit pathetic. In the best way possible. You can't help but bite your lip as an amused smile ghosts across your lips. "You're doing this on purpose! You just bit your lip!" He uncharacteristically squeaks out.

"I really am not, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was so overwhelming for you!"

Leon's chest momentarily stopped heaving, and his body relaxed by a fraction. "Do… Do I have doe eyes?" He asks. And then his eyes widen and he stares straight ahead at nothing in particular, as if the question didn't leave his own mouth.

You widen your eyes in total shock, before your line of sight travels down to the tent in his jeans. Leon is completely hard, just from the mere mention of you getting your pussy ate. And something about this completely stirs something within you. "I wouldn't know unless I found out. But… You do have really soft and kind eyes. And I'm not just saying that. I really do like your eyes, they're a really pretty shade of blue." You say, sitting on your knees as you face him.

"Oh…" Leon murmurs, before looking down at his jeans. His erection is on full display with the denim doing barely anything to camouflage it. The realisation of his hard-on has hit him like a bullet train going mach speed. "Oh no." Leon swallows thickly. "Oh, no no no-" He tries to angle his body away from you, but it's too late. You've already seen, and it's already happened. Leon feels a red hot rod of shame strike against every cell in his body - all he's ever known is to feel shame and guilt, especially in the matters of lust. "I can't… Oh no. I don't get- This doesn't happen to me. I don't do this." Leon panics, pressing his hands into his crotch as if to shove his erection down like an overpacked suitcase, but the pressure only causes pleasure and he hisses in response, pulling his hands away as if he touched a burnt stove. You can only watch on in equal parts concern and amusement. You've never seen a 20 year old, fully grown adult male, respond to getting a boner like this.

Leon turns to face you, his lips ever so slightly trembling. "You… Like my eyes." He repeats your own words at you, the moles standing out on his neck against the beet red flush of his skin. His lips are parted, his pupils blown out wide. He looks as if he's about to cry. Or pray. Maybe both. And there's a sick sense of satisfaction that creeps into your gut looking at his expression, but you keep it under wraps. "…You really think my eyes are pretty?" He asks through heavy exhales.

"Yeah, I do. You have pretty eyes." You repeat, your knees crushing into the dirt a little more as you lean a fraction closer. "But… I think that's a conversation for another time. You can't return to the picnic like this." Your eyes gesture to the tent in his pants, and Leon lets out what sounds like a mix between a choked sob and a groan.

"Oh… Oh my gosh." He presses his forehead to his knees for a moment, his shoulders shaking - not because he's crying, but because this is the very first time in his life that he has not been able to simply will away an erection. He pulls his head up, his knees slightly relaxing as he looks at you. "I've never… I've never had this problem before. Usually I can just make it go away, but it's not going away." He heaves in panic. "What do I do? I don't know how to make it… Go away." Leon says, unable to use vulgar words as he looks down at the very obvious bulge in his pants. "It's never been such a problem like this for me before. It's never been like… This. This has to be because of you. You're doing this." Leon throws the accusation out pathetically, and it sounds like far more of a confession than an accusation. He tries to shift in his spot, only the friction from the denim catches against him and it causes him to gasp and squeeze his eyes shut. "Oh god!" He whimpers. "What do I do? What do I do? You… You're the one that knows about all this stuff. You have to help me." Leon stares right into your eyes, his flushed skin now covered in a thin layer of sweat and his eyes turning blotchy from the overwhelming need to let himself go.

"M-Me!? You know that's…" You trail off. There's an undeniable dampness between your thighs at the sight of Leon. "Okay, alright." You nod, pivoting yourself on your knees so you're kneeling right next to his sitting form.

"Tell me what I need to do." Leon whispers frantically.

"Um, okay. You need to jack off. You need to just… Pull your cock out of your underwear and you need to start stroking it." You instruct him awkwardly. You have no idea how such a turn of events led you here. But you also kind of do.

"But that's…! Thessalonians said…" Leon mumbles, but he's unzipping the fly of his jeans.

"Okay, well, if you listen to Thessalonians in this scenario, everyone and their dog in your congregation will see get an eyeful of that, so… Just get it out, and just, grasp it and stroke it slowly at first." You instruct him.

"T-This is… Immoral. You'd be watching me do it. But does it work?" Leon manages to rasp out through his quiet moans.

"Oh yeah. Definitely." You nod, trying not to let the amusement on your face show.

Leon obeys your instructions, freeing his cock from his underwear. And you were not prepared to find out that the good Christian church boy, Leon Kennedy, was packing all that. You try to keep the (pleasant) surprise in your face to a minimum, as you try to help him. Leon begins to stroke, and the moment he slowly strokes his cock, he lets out a small whimper.

"Is it good?" You ask him, your voice dropping to a whisper.

"Y-yeah…" Leon gasps, making slow tugs at himself. You watch as his already rock-hard cock drools even more precum. You notice that he doesn't really even look at his dick, he's trying to look anywhere else except at you and his dick.

"Good… You can go a little faster with your hand. You can grip it a little tighter, just not too tight… Just keep building it up." Your voice is low, your breath fanning against his ear, and it sends his whole body rigid and boneless all at once.

"L-like this?" Leon asks, choking out a sob of pleasure. He's already close in such a short amount of time - although given his context, that doesn’t surprise you at all.

"Yeah… Like that. Keep going." You coo in his ear, your thighs now leaning against his, your breasts pressed against his arm. The feeling of your body pressed against his was like a lightning rod - and Leon takes a heavy, ragged breath as he fists his cock harder, the pink, mushroomy tip now completely glossy as the obscene squelch of wet flesh fills the thick, balmy summer air.

"O-oh, oh… This is… I'm…" Leon stammers, his hand moving up and down at a faster pace as the feeling of terror and shame is replaced with a desperate, white hot flash of coiling pleasure. Leon's mouth forms a perfect little 'o' as he tilts his head back.

"That's it… You're almost there. You're doing such a good job." You whisper against his ear. You can't help yourself. You lick a long stripe against the side of his neck before planting a little kiss, and it practically short circuits Leon when he's already a whimpering, moaning mess. Leon gasps, and you watch as he shoots hot, thick, white ropes of cum all over the bottom of his shirt.

"Is it over…?" Leon rasps out, a very flushed and half-lidded look on his face. You smile at him.

"Yeah, it's taken care of." You confirm. You look down at the splotches of his cum on his navy cotton t-shirt. Leon's eyes grow wide, and that same panic takes over again.

"Wait! I… I didn't mean for it to go there! Everyone will see this! How do I get rid of it!?" He exclaims, reaching a loosely clenched fist out about to smear it in.

"Oh my god, no! Don't do that, you'll smear it everywhere and it'll go crusty!" You hold back a laugh as you're envisioning the aftermath of his almost-mistake. "I've got it, don't worry." You say, delicately picking his shirt up by the hem, you notice his muscular abdomen and a smattering of blonde hair just peeking above the waistband of his jeans. You tear your gaze away as you lean down and lick the cum off his shirt, swallowing it. Leon's eyes practically bulge out of his head.

"Wait, t-that's…!" He watches on, his expression equal parts arousal and bewilderment as you clean the cum off his shirt with your tongue. The stain is barely noticeable at this point, and would be passable for a smudge of pie.

"I believe the correct response is, 'thank you'." You joke with an amused expression, getting up from your knees and dusting off the tiny flecks of soil. You stretch out a hand to Leon, and he gratefully takes it.

"Thank you, I… You didn't have to help me, but you did." He rubs the back of his neck - a habit he seems to exhibit when he's feeling awkward.

"It's alright, I wanted to, to be honest." You shrug. You notice his face go beet red once more. "Sorry." You bite your lip with a smile - you're not sorry. You begin to walk back on the trail with Leon.

"Wait… Could we… Do this again? Um, just the talking part, not the… The other bit. I'd really like to talk with you some more." Leon asks.

"Of course. Here's my phone, just pop your number in and I'll text you." You say, handing him your phone. He saves himself as a contact and you text him to make sure his number is correct. "Great." You smile.

"Are you, uh, free any particular day?" Leon asks.

"Oh, I'm free any day, I'm taking a little break since I just finished university." You grin.

"Okay, nice! I'm free this coming Tuesday. Maybe we could meet up at a cafe when I have a break during my police academy training?" Leon gives you a boyish grin that practically looks like sunshine personified.

"Tuesday works." You smile at him as you both approach the lawn where everybody else is still eating and chatting. As your paths begin to split off, Leon calls back out to you.

"Um, the berry lemonade was really good!" He grins, as his adoptive father, Paul, calls out to him.

"Ah! Leon. There you are son. Woah… You're all flushed and you look a little pale. You alright?" Paul's eyes drift to your retreating figure, and Leon registers a flicker of disapproval as his father stares into his eyes. "It's nice that you're trying to be kind to everyone… But just be careful of her, son. She's not a part of our world. She'll lead you astray." His father warns. Leon can't bring himself to give his father a verbal answer, so he just nods.

Leon feels his phone buzz in his pocket momentarily afterwards, but he doesn't go to check it, he already knows it's a text from you. He's never been more sure of anything in his life - bible verses and disapproving glares be damned. He's going on that date with you next Tuesday.

im kinda thinkin of a pt 2