Whumptober 4/31: RE OT3 "Trust Fall"

Whumptober 4/31: RE OT3 "Trust Fall"

Oct 04, 2021

Mild whump, mostly crack. Was seriously unsure what to do with this prompt and almost made it a Revalink one, but this particular scene has been playing in my mind for a little bit, so have RE OT3 instead. Ganlink and Revalink will be later prompts.

In the meantime, enjoy Leon giving Chris and Piers more grey hair.




Today… today wasn’t going as planned.

“One more move and I give his pretty face a new hole.”

Leon Kennedy went from a lovely breakfast in bed -- with Chris’s amazing dick serving as a nice dessert -- to this mess. He supposed the fact that he had managed such a nice breakfast before Hunnigan called him should have been a warning.

“BSAA! Put down your weapons! Now!”

It was a simple enough request. Warning number two, Leon guessed. Accompany BSAA on a mission on American soil. Having a top DSO agent with them helped them jump over a couple hurdles and got their feet on the ground faster. Leon had been tempted to mention something about BSAA soldiers thoroughly involved in his “American soil” all night long, but Piers covered his mouth and the moment had been lost.

“Put down yours or I blow his fucking face off!”

Which led Leon here: standing on a freezing cold roof in the freezing old mountains, with some fucking Wesker cultists between him and the others. They might only be sharing one braincell between them, but they caught on quickly enough that the lone DSO agent would be a good hostage against the BSAA soldiers. Chris and Piers couldn’t control their expressions to save their lives… or in this case, Leon’s.

Leon wasn’t sure what was worse: actual Wesker cultists or the fact that these idiots were trying to use him as a hostage. What the hell.

Shifting carefully at the edge of the roof, Leon assessed the situation. There weren’t many cultists left after Leon and the BSAA went through them and their small army of monsters. Chris had led the team to capture the last few while Leon chased after an ape hybrid thing, now deceased at the foot of the building. While Leon had focused on finishing off the monster, the cultists had burst onto the roof, chased by Chris and Piers and three other soldiers. They took advantage of Leon’s distraction to aim their guns at him. In any other situation, they would have been easy to take down.

Now Chris looked ready to panic, although to untrained eyes he simply looked furious. “You’re surrounded!” Chris snapped, his gun not wavering from the cultists. Except Leon knew him. If they pushed their threats…

Piers stood ever-faithful at Chris’s shoulder, gun aimed at the cultists but gaze darting frantically between them and where Leon stood on the roof’s edge. He looked fierce and determined and the fear in his eyes was so bright it hurt Leon’s heart. If Chris lowered his gun, Piers would follow.

As would the three BSAA soldiers behind them. Leon only recognized one -- Nadia -- but didn’t recognize the other two. It didn’t matter. If their Captain hesitated to shoot, so would they. If their Captain lowered his gun, so would they. 

Because they could do it. Chris was experienced and Leon knew Piers and Nadia excelled in rapid, precise shots. They could take these assholes out in seconds. It didn’t matter. None of them would shoot as long as these idiots had their guns pointed at Leon.

Shit like this was why Leon preferred to work alone. No hostages, no fuss, no watching professionals hesitate like this. Only had to focus on his own weaponry and not an ally being caught in the crossfire. Still, this was manageable. After a quick assessment, Leon had a game plan. As a bonus, there was a chance for angry sex later.

Slowly, deliberately, Leon extended his arms up his sides, raising them into the air. Nice and easy. See, kiddos? He was unarmed and not dangerous in the slightest! Based on how at least two different fingers twitched on their triggers, Leon didn’t think they bought it. He offered the cultists a charming smile, and a third finger twitched on the trigger. The wannabe leader snarled at him even as Leon heard Chris hiss something. Leon didn’t listen.

“Don’t do anything smart, pretty boy,” the leader warned.

Leon was beginning to wonder about this guy. “Me, do something smart? Never. You can ask anyone!” He made sure his smile was nice and bright and only earned a scowl and now Piers hissing something at him. Their lack of faith hurt him. Truly. “I do have a couple other things to do today, though, and being a hostage takes forever, so if you guys don’t mind…”

Chris, Piers… trust me.

Still smiling brightly, Leon took one step backward, right off the side of the building. 

There were screams and gunshots and Leon really couldn’t hold anyone’s hand right then as they dealt with this new development: he had other things to worry about. Like falling off a building.

It wasn’t his first time falling from a high spot and it wouldn’t be his last. Still, there was always that moment when his heart leaped into his throat and there was only the wind and a wild rush of adrenaline and the crystal-clear awareness of how quickly everything was moving around him and how quickly the ground approached. It was terrifying and exhilarating and all of it happened in the barest of seconds as he whipped out his special pistol.

Thanks for the inspiration, Ada, Leon thought and fired right under the roof’s ledge.

The gunshots hadn’t even stopped when the grappling hook slammed into the concrete, extending in a flash of metal and grabbing hard. Leon jerked to a stop, shoulder screeching in protest, and then the steel rope retracted, yanking him upward. He had just long enough to wonder how the hell Ada did this repeatedly before the rope was coming at its end. Even as the gunfire silenced, Leon jerked at the hookshot, pulling it out of the concrete, and twisted his body with the momentum. He hit the roof and rolled, softening the impact, to slide to a stop at a wide-eyed Chris Redfield’s feet.

“Hi, honey,” Leon greeted cheerfully. With a wave of his arm and a snap of his wrist, the grappling hook was fully retracted and shoved back into its usual spot. Dusting himself off, Leon pretended like his shoulder didn’t hurt. He was going to have arthritis in that shoulder by the time he hit fifty for sure.

“Jesus, Leon,” Piers breathed, jerking toward him. He stopped before he actually made contact, their rule of “No PDA in the field” going strong, but Chris didn’t. He charged forward and almost knocked Leon off his feet again, hands frantic on him as he checked for injuries. That was all Piers needed to move closer, delicately touching Leon’s shoulder and cheek, sharp eyes roving over him.

Leon met Nadia’s gaze over Chris’s shoulder, and the woman winked at him before shouting, “Okay, guys, let’s call it in and give the lovebirds a moment to fuss.”

Piers flushed but determinedly didn’t move away from Leon. Chris didn’t seem to notice at all. “You crazy sonuvabitch,” he growled, hands roaming over Leon’s chest. “What were you thinking with that stunt?”

They were threatening to shoot my face, not my chest, Chris. “That I hate being a hostage,” Leon returned. “Too boring. And it worked, didn’t it?”

“You’ve done that before,” Piers said flatly. His eyes sparked, a furious flush building in his cheeks. Oh, Leon wasn’t going to be able to sit down for a week after this.

Might as well earn it. “Several times,” Leon agreed, voice still cheerful. “So you guys ready to hit the road? I think it’s lunch time.”

If looks could kill, Leon wouldn’t need to worry about gravity or armed cultists. He grinned at them, felt Piers’s hand convulse on his shoulder. “Lunch,” Piers said flatly.

Chris’s hand slid down to grab Leon’s own hand. He squeezed it once, surprisingly gently considering the fury in his face. “You stay with us while we clear the rest of the area,” Chris said, voice as flat as Piers’s. “Then we’ll talk about lunch.”

Yeah, working solo was easier and less messy, but damn did working with a team have its benefits.

And maybe after they were done pounding him into the mattress, Leon could convince one of them to massage his shoulder. How the fuck did Ada do that all the time. Fucking ow.

Chris used his grip on Leon’s hand to yank him forward into a feverish, messy, desperate kiss, and shock more than anything had Leon’s mouth parting, had him yielding to Chris. He felt Piers press up behind him, his vest hard against Leon’s back and his hands tight on Leon’s hips. For a moment, there was only the heat and fierce pressure of Chris’s mouth and his tongue delving deep, and then Chris yanked away and Piers was there, biting and kissing and bruising Leon’s lips with his own. When Piers pulled back, Leon swayed between their bodies, dazed.

“Don’t do that again,” Chris snarled.

With that incentive? Yeah, right. “The others are waiting,” Leon said instead, taking a moment to lick his lips. There were few things as nice as the combined taste of his lovers in his mouth.

He startled when Piers smacked his ass and then Chris used his grip on Leon’s hand to pull him toward the stairs. 

“The other way is quicker,” Leon offered, only to yelp when Piers smacked his ass again.

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