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“You gonna be a good boy?”
Not too long ago, Ethan probably would’ve blanched at the mere thought of asking such a question, let alone in a context such as this. Maybe laughed anxiously, depending on his audience, but he certainly wouldn’t have gotten the words out - not with a straight face and certainly not with an easy sort of half-smile on his face, his voice rough and lustful. Not with hands roaming gently up a pretty boy’s sides, fingertips tracing over soft skin and lean muscle. Feeling tension follow, a subtle shudder thanks to him - because of him.
“...yes, Daddy.”
And he sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to handle that response.
Call it character development, or something.
There’s just something about Leon.
Truly, Ethan is mindful of his situation. The sheer chaos that follows him now, and the chaos that surrounds Leon S. Kennedy too. This altered plane of existence they seem to live on, fraught with danger beyond what the average person could ever even imagine. Miles away from the life that Ethan was sure would be his, but safely in the realm of something equally good.
Maybe better.
Ethan can’t imagine any goddamn software engineer ever got to pull Leon S. Kennedy closer by the hips, press close so he can feel their dick and then listen to him whine for it like he needs it.
By now, Ethan knows Leon well enough to say with moderate confidence that he does. At least enough that he gets desperate in Ethan’s lap now, grinds down like he’s starved - like they didn’t just fuck yesterday.
“You said you were gonna be good,” Ethan reminds him, a fatherly admonishment that makes Leon’s hips jerk even as Ethan squeezes them gently.
“I am,” Leon gasps, unconvincingly, and then he tries to grind down again because he knows Ethan won’t do anything more than breathe a laugh and squeeze a little tighter.
“Thin ice, baby,” Ethan murmurs, doing just that before leaning in to nip at the soft, pale skin of Leon’s throat.
It’s probably as close to punishment as they’ll get tonight. Leon’s too eager, and Ethan’s humble enough to admit that he’s not far behind. He can only be the grown-up for so long when Leon’s ass feels like that, even through the patterned pyjama trousers Leon’s stayed in all day.
The feel of them against Ethan’s grown-up slacks does more for Ethan than he’d ever admit, even though him shuddering with Leon’s next mumble of, “Daddy,” probably says enough.
Leon says it again, sharper, when Ethan lets go of his hips to reach between their bodies and go at his belt. Yanking until it loosens and he can undo his trousers in turn, and then shuffling the whole mess off with slow success while Leon whines.
“You can wait for it,” Ethan tells him softly, a hot breath shared between them, a hand gently pushing Leon out of his lap. “Just a little longer. C’mon, clothes off.”
Ethan’s finally got his trousers off, shirt unbuttoned just enough at the throat to let him breathe, when Leon descends upon him again. Just as ordered, he’s naked now, borrowed shirt and sinful, tight little briefs lost somewhere in the room, and Ethan tells him, “Good boy,” both because he means it and because he gets to see the full effect it has.
“Please,” Leon whines. His hips are twitching sweetly, the flushed, wet head of his erection coming so close to what he wants, still trapped inside Ethan’s boxers, but he won’t take it yet because Daddy hasn’t said he can.
Ethan really does have such a good boy.
“Lube,“ Ethan manages to say, and it’s in his hands before he’s even really managed to complete the thought, let alone turn it into a request. Now, if he was being mean, maybe he’d tease Leon with that, but as it is he just gets to work, with a wet kiss to Leon’s bared throat and more praise spoken against the skin there.
One finger, soaked thoroughly, sinks into Leon so easily his only reaction is a soft breath. Something like relaxation, like rightness, so Ethan presses in another one right away and this time Leon mewls eagerly, surely now feeling just the slightest sense of being stretched - being filled.
“Want you,” he mumbles, and Ethan kisses his neck again.
“You’ve got me. You’ll have me properly in a minute.”
“Minute’s too long.”
Ethan isn’t entirely sure what possesses him when he crooks his fingers hard against Leon’s sweet spot in return and tells him firmly, “You’ll take what I give you,” but he supposes he’s grateful. Leon is too, if the way he arches and shudders is anything to go by, a gasp spilling from his mouth and emptying his lungs so thoroughly that his next drawn breath is almost a wheeze.
God. How had Ethan ever been content with a lifetime of standard missionary sex?
He gets one more finger and a perhaps almost adequate amount of stretching in before Leon’s newest bout of begging - “Please, need it, please, Daddy,” with reawoken vigour - breaks him. He pulls his fingers free all at once just to hear Leon mourn the loss of them, see beautiful blue eyes snap to him, so glossy Ethan could probably see his reflection in them if he could ever look past Leon, and then he pulls Leon gently but firmly by the hips to follow him towards the headboard.
“You gonna ride me?”
Leon sits there with his mouth open for a second before he nods, wordlessly, like he’s overwhelmed by the mere premise. He follows Ethan’s grip to straddle the older man properly again once Ethan’s settled against the pillows, propped up and comfortable and with the best view in the house, and then he waits - chest rising and falling in a hypnotising rhythm - while Ethan finally pulls his straining cock out of his boxers.
Leon looks like he could drool, and it’s so firmly somewhere between endearing and hot that Ethan finally can’t resist dragging him down into an open-mouthed kiss. It’s nothing exactly romantic, containing all of the need shared between them as it does - it’s wet and messy, a lot of tongue and far too little precision, but Leon moans into it and maybe really does drool when Ethan takes the opportunity to rut upwards and catch the hot head of his cock against Leon’s rim. Wet and open and ready, so much so that Ethan sinks in on the next - more purposeful - jerk upwards, effortless, and Leon throws his head back and arches as if someone pulled his spine like a bowstring as he fucks himself all the way down.
“Shit! Shit. Daddy—“
“I’ve got you,” Ethan gasps, as if he’s not also searching for breath against Leon’s collarbones and not managing to find much of it. Leon’s tight and wet and hot and perfect, clenching down in just the way Ethan fucking loves.
Ethan jerks his hips up on his first inhale that feels as if it almost reaches the base of his lungs.
Whatever progress Leon had made in catching his own breath is effectively and immediately ruined. He whimpers like he’s wounded, presses down hard to take all of Ethan and then try and hold him there, hips pressing Ethan’s to the bed.
“Big,” Leon mumbles, and Ethan’s ego throbs with his dick.
“Holy shit.”
“S—so good. Filling me up…” Leon rolls his hips, and Ethan’s cock must press his prostate because he whines with sudden, sharp pleasure and doesn’t move. He stays there, shuddering, growing more tense and overwhelmed by the second - creeping closer and closer to forcing himself into an orgasm - until he sobs and Ethan finally grabs him hard by the hips and pushes him back, never able to stomach Leon’s overstimulation quite like Leon himself can.
Leon laughs breathlessly, laughs like his eyes aren’t full of tears as he rolls his hips again, almost petulantly.
“Wanna cum on your cock,” he complains, a childish whine unbefitting of the filthy words. Ethan would be ashamed of how much that detail turned him on if he wasn’t past the point of caring by now, buried deep inside Leon.
“Work for it, then,” Ethan tells him. “C’mon. Fuck yourself properly. On Daddy’s cock.”
And despite bracing for it, telling himself to be ready and in control, Ethan still chokes when Leon does just that. He rolls his hips again, with purpose this time now that he has full permission, and then he’s pulling himself up high on his knees to drop right back down, force the air out of his own lungs in a long, high whine, and then do it again. Again. Again. Until he finds a brutal rhythm to follow.
“Fucking slut,” Ethan hisses, hands squeezing Leon’s ass like he’s searching for purchase amidst waves of pleasure, and the sound Leon lets out is the exact midpoint between a laugh and a whimper.
“Y—yeah.”
Retaliation, or something, is Ethan’s driving force to gather himself enough to sink his teeth into Leon’s throat again. It’s already decorated with marks, only a few fresh and pale from Ethan’s earlier nipping, but he goes in harder this time to improve his work. Bites down when Leon’s ass slaps against his hips and sucks hard while he draws back up, clenching tight like he’s trying so hard to keep Ethan inside even on the backstroke.
“Fuck!” Leon gasps. His thrusts are already getting sloppier. Maybe he is as pent-up as he’d been acting. “Shit. Yo—yours?”
“Mine,” Ethan promises, and he’s delighted when Leon falls over the edge and comes - hard and sudden - with the next perfectly synchronised hit to his prostate and bite to his neck.
“Daddy—!”
He keeps fucking himself all the way through it. His thighs must be burning, Ethan thinks, but Leon doesn’t even stop to breathe, only seeking more pleasure to drown himself in while his pretty cock twitches and spills between them. He’s a mess already, sweaty hair stuck to his face, flushed all the way from his ears down his chest, but something truly snaps awake in Ethan when he sees Leon’s still-hard cock start drooling again - light, sticky precum - the moment there’s no cum left for him to milk himself of.
God. Ethan couldn’t possibly have a better boy.
There’s no protest when Ethan pulls out, just thin, eager whining for the full duration of him switching their positions until Leon is settled right underneath him, strong thighs spread wide and pressed up towards his chest, and Ethan can fuck right back inside so hard and deep he knows Leon must feel it in his stomach. In his throat.
He certainly sounds like he does, trying to cry out but only managing to let out a sound that cracks into nothingness and a trail of drool from the corner of his mouth.
Ethan wants to see more. He wants to see Leon wrecked. So it only seems like the natural course of action to shove his fingers between Leon’s wet, parted lips, just far enough back to make him choke, and order him to suck.
And Leon does so like the sweet little thing he is. He drools and chokes and gags around Ethan’s fingers, sucking them like he sucks cock when he’s desperate, and he even has the sheer audacity to whine when Ethan pulls them out when he feels himself getting close.
“Wanna hear you,” Ethan tells him firmly, and Leon whines again but chokes out a helpless moan with Ethan’s next sharp thrust nonetheless, arches his back, squeezes his thighs tight around Ethan’s ribs.
“So—so good…please...”
“Yeah?” Ethan thrusts hard again, lets out his own moan at the way Leon clenches tight around him. “Taking it so well. I’m close, baby. You gonna take it? Gonna let— shit —gonna let Daddy fill you up?”
“Please. Da—Daddy, please, please—“
Finally, Ethan surrenders himself to a fast, sloppy rhythm, chasing after his own release while also trying to fuck another out of Leon. Leon is impossibly tight, his every muscle taut and tense and holding him in a beautiful arch, highlighting the rainbow of Ethan’s marks bitten into his throat over the week, and when he comes it’s with a broken cry and the unravelling of his entire self. He melts into the bed, mouth falling wide open, and Ethan can’t help but follow him over the edge.
He presses as deep as he can into Leon, presses his pelvis against the addictive give of that round ass, and rolls his hips in sharp, jagged little thrusts as he comes. Fills Leon up just like he promised, just like they both love, though Leon twitches and whimpers as his overstimulated prostate is rutted against mercilessly.
He could cum again, if Ethan wanted to make him, but it’s been a long day. Ethan’s cock stops twitching, softens fully inside of the wet heat of Leon’s ass, and he collapses. Buries his face against Leon’s hairless chest and feels it rise and fall, feels his hammering heartbeat slow steadily to something decidedly more relaxing as Ethan gathers his own breath.
“You okay?” are Ethan’s first words when he remembers how to speak, and he manages to pick his head up enough to see Leon, face flushed and glowing, eyes closed, smiling exhaustedly.
“‘m’okay,” he says hoarsely. “I’m...I’m really good.”
“You are,” Ethan tells him. Presses a kiss to Leon’s sternum, right over his heartbeat. “Daddy’s good boy.”
And it’s worth the halfhearted kick to his side to fall into Leon’s arms again, laughing breathlessly, to hold him until they’re ready to clean up.
And in the bath, Leon will ask him very quietly if he meant it. If he really is good.
And Ethan will tell him again.