#soleon

Mathias x Leon And he’ll never truly know who did it. The kiss. Deep in the night where an older Leon, married l to a woman who isn’t Lady Trantoul, father to an angelic boy who took his breath away… and Hunter of all things that go bump into the night.

He sleeps alongside his wife, head turned to the window but eyes closed, breathing slow and unsuspecting, but this may be the only chance his dear friend has at this. While he remains frozen at the tender age of thirty-two, time has passed for Leon as expected, his hair graying and thinning, wrinkles lining his skin appearing more frequent and profound, yet that hardened soldier is still there. He’s aged, but he’ll still be that sweet boy he held those ages ago, and taught all his knowledge of the world.

Mathias leans down further, his body in the air, still as stone, and his feet removed from the floor. He kisses Leon deeply, gently and that was that.

He would be gone before Leon would wake with a start and pull his sheets about him, dagger at the ready. But there would be no one there.

Soma x Leon Well. This is kind of awkward. Yet it felt strangely endearing? Because he knows the man is very confused as everything about him (ugh, of course) reads as “Dracula under blacklight” or something, yet it’s clear he’s still… him? He is Soma. Not Dracula (mostly) and not this Matthias dude. But he takes it easy on him, since he’s well aware of his story. Shit, he was there in the past, but that’s long gone now.

Soma sits on his lap and feels like an ass for having to deny him most everything including seeing his old friend for the last time. Sorry. But he can barely keep the form of bat without losing it and barking like a dog instead of using sonar squeaking. He just like shaving fun with it, and that’s what he’s doing now. To a very receptive Belmont this time.

Took a while to “train” Julius to at least stop pulling a weapon out on him by habit.

Wrapped around the Belmont founder’s body, Soma leans himself further and further into the kiss he shared. One that he can feel is very much wanted and surprisingly good at. One French kiss joke later and maybe he’d be well in his way to pound town. God, he hopes so because he can uh, actually feel the knight prodding him with his sword. The flesh one. It’s the least he can do for him, and for himself while rolling his hips against his newest companion.