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Fatal Attraction Series
folder
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
7,119
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+M through R › Resident Evil
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
7,119
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Resident Evil, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Fatal Attraction Series
Taking a break from the Dark fic for a moment.
New fic series: Fatal Attraction
Reluctant Obsessions
By
Koh
March 2005
Pairings:
x
Warnings: Adult Content, Questionable Consent
Teaser: Long before Resident Evil 4 takes place, Jack Krauser takes
notice of a little blond guy who comes in with a new batch of recruits
at the training camp where he's currently ensconced...
@>;-'-
"Hey, Jack. Will you get a loadda that?"
Jack Krauser looked up at his friend's call to
see the truck unloading the newest trainees at the camp. His attention
was immediately arrested by a small, sandy blond trainee standing
amidst his taller and more muscular counterparts. "Jesus! Is Command
that hard up for recruits that they're robbing cradles now? That kid
can't be that long out of high school."
"What's the bet he'll washout in a year?"
"No bet.” Jack laughed derisively as he forced
his thoughts away from that mighty fine looking piece of ass and turned
his attention back on the codebook he had been studying. “There's no
way he's going to make six years. I'll give him six weeks. Six months
tops.”
*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~
Jack hadn't paid much more attention to the
man since, though he did listen to the scuttlebutt that started to
float around the camp about the new guy. Word had spread early that the
kid was one of two survivors of the Raccoon City brouhaha. That had
earned him quite a lot of respect in the camp for having run the
gauntlet of zombies and mutants, caused by the viral outbreak, at
ground zero to escape the horror.
However, it was also generally known that the
kid had been scarred by the experience. Even now, some several months
after the event, his fellow trainees would talk sympathetically among
themselves about how he still found difficulty in sleeping through the
night. Beyond the first few rough nights at the camp though, he had
been careful not to wake his roommate or neighbours. Jack had even
overheard some instructors discussing how to handle the ex-cop when he
would suddenly exhibit PTSD symptoms in the middle of class. While his
overreactions were understandable, it was, unfortunately, very
dangerous for classmates and instructors who did not exercise caution
around him during those thankfully infrequent periods. For the
instructors, it was a juggle of allowance and freedom versus restraint
and control, and knowing how to safely snap him out of a delusion where
he'd imagine himself to be back in Raccoon City again. For fellow
trainees, it made life-- interesting during and outside classes.
One had to be very careful not to startle Leon
S. Kennedy for any reason. He'd already put three fellow trainees in
the hospital with sprains or broken ribs when they came up behind him
unexpectedly. In spite of all this, Kennedy was surprisingly well liked
and popular among his peers. Some six months after he arrived at the
camp and stood among his very much reduced group of fellow trainees,
Jack was to learn why. And also to eat his own words regarding his
belief that Kennedy would washout early.
During one of those rare moments when the
instructors would bring old and new trainees together for lessons, Jack
found himself standing before the class with his knife in hand and
facing Kennedy. Jack didn't find himself to be anymore impressed with
the rookie then than he was previously. It was noticeable that the man
had bulked up some due to the special diet and rigorous exercise the
camp foisted on all trainees, but while Kennedy stopped looking like
jailbait, he was still small and 'puny' in comparison to most of the
other trainees and instructors in the camp, bar the women. It brought
to Jack's mind many instances of hearing his peers joking with the
older trainees about watching the 'developing ass' of this fellow
trainee. That he hadn't been 'propositioned' yet was bewildering news
to Jack.
"Kennedy!” The instructor's call from the
sidelines brought Jack's attention back to the man facing him. “Don't
hold back, you hear me?!"
"But--" The smaller blond drew the combat
knife from his shoulder mounted sheath with his right hand nervously.
"Yes, it's a real knife. But Krauser's an old
hand.” Jack flashed a confident smile at the instructor when he glanced
in his direction. “He'll be fine. So go it *full* tilt. You hear me,
recruit?"
"Yes, Sir!"
“And Krauser! I don't need dead
recruits, so mind your enthusiasm.”
“Yes, Sir!” Jack snorted inwardly to
himself as he watched the other man settle on the balls of his feet. He
flashed Kennedy a predatory smile as he twirled his knife in his hand.
"Come on, comrade. I won't hurt you... Much." This would be a piece of
cake…
*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~
"Of all the lame brain, stupid, idiotic...
What the hell was wrong with you, Krauser?”
Jack wished that the instructor would just
shut up. He had never been so embarrassed in all his life. The kid was
good while he had been far too cocky and overconfident. After a few
passes, he had noticed Kennedy's demeanour suddenly change which warned
him that the kid wasn't seeing another human being as an opponent. The
instructor recognised the danger immediately, but Jack had waved off
his attempt to call a halt to the spar.
Jack had really thought he had Kennedy as he
made use of his greater reach and strength to keep the man on the
defensive. Then Kennedy suddenly launched into an attack and when
Krauser had raised his blade to block an expected slash, the smaller
man had tossed the knife, caught it in his left hand and struck at
Jack's unprotected side. Too late, Jack remembered the advantage
Kennedy's two-edged blade had over his own single edged blade,
especially to one who was able to fight ambidextrously with a knife and
could therefore flip the said weapon from hand to hand.
In that split second, Kennedy slipped within
his guard and Jack barely pulled back in time to avoid getting the
knife up his chin and through his brain. He had been lucky that the
knife only sliced his lips and face and that the splash of blood woke
Kennedy from his moment of unreality before he could follow through
with an eviscerating slash. If this fight had been for real out in the
field...
“Now I have a kid out there who thinks--
no-- who *knows* he damn near killed you! Do you know how many months
you've set him back in therapy?”
Jack winced at the memory of Kennedy's shock.
The kid had been terrified, concerned and apologetic. *Now* Jack
realised why Kennedy was so well respected and hadn't had to deal with
any harassment shit among his more muscular peers. The kid was
definitely good, but he didn't put on airs and he showed genuine
concern and embarrassment for injuring him.
“You're damn lucky you didn't lose an
eye!”
At that reminder, Jack's hand unconsciously
reached up to touch the bandages on his numbed face. Oh, it was going
to hurt like the blazes once the anaesthesia wore off. The stitching,
Jack knew, was going to scar and scar bad. Well… when he looked at
himself in a mirror from now on, he'd remember to never underestimate
his opponent, nor to judge a person from looks alone.
“Christ! Krauser, you know better than
to relax when we have training with real weapons.” The instructor was
still ranting. "And what the hell were you *thinking* when Kennedy went
into a kill-or-be-killed mode? Shit! He's killed literally hundreds
before we ever got our hands on him. You should have broken off the
spar!"
Jack sighed inwardly and let him go on. He
knew that he had handed the instructor as great a scare to have one
recruit almost cause the death of another. And Kennedy? Jack told
himself that he really should have known better than to take it easy on
a man who had, not a year earlier, slaughtered *well* over a hundred
zombies and BOWs during his track to look for survivors and when
escaping a doomed city. As it was, the kid probably had a higher kill
record than the whole camp put together. The instructors had their work
cut out for them in training an operative who could slip easily into
killer mode when necessary. Somehow, Jack just knew that contrary to
his first assessment of the man, Kennedy was going to make it to the
top.
*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~
“I'm sorry.”
Jack sighed, he couldn't deal with this. For
the last few months, every time Kennedy saw him he came over to
apologize. The stitches were out and the angry red scaring was finally
beginning to fade, but the kid would still cringe whenever they met.
He tried to be patient, really. But the kid
was starting to wear down his nerves. It did not help that his
classmates, and some of Kennedy's friends to boot, delighted in
reminding Jack of the smaller man's apparent superior skill with a
knife. It embarrassed the kid, and that only made him want to apologize
even more. And because the younger man was almost in his face nearly
every day, Jack had begun to take notice of him. More and more, Jack
was finding himself appreciating how well the trainers were developing
the musculature on the kid.
“I heard you the first one hundred times. It
was more my fault than yours. I should have been more on guard.”
“You really think you could have handled him,
Krauser?” One of Kennedy's buddies came up behind him to slip an arm
around the man's shoulders. “Our man Skippy here's a right devil when
he wants to be.”
From where he stood, Jack was the only one who
noticed the scowl on Kennedy's face at the much loathed nickname. The
'friend' had been lucky that the counselling the instructors stepped up
for Kennedy, after the fateful knife fight, had helped the kid deal
with the memories of his flight from Raccoon City. Six months ago,
coming up behind Kennedy like that would have resulted in the
unfortunate sod being thrown across the room by the wild-eyed man. It
earned Kennedy a nickname of 'Skippy' among his peers for his
hair-trigger attack response when he was accidentally startled.
“Them's fighting words, kid. Want a rematch,
'Skippy'?”
“No!” Kennedy's eyes went wide as he quickly
ducked behind his buddy. “Not without an instructor around, I mean.
And… I'm really sorry, Krauser.”
Jack stared after the departing men, glad to
be left alone again. Gods… the kid looked mighty fine as compared to
the other muscle bound men in the camp. You couldn't blame a guy for
staring after being isolated and deprived of female company for so
long. Kennedy was fortunate he was respected, besides being an able and
dangerous fighter with hair-trigger reflexes. No one wanted to deal
with possibly dying just for a free grope.
'I'm sorry.' He had heard that so many times
in the last few months… His friends were starting to wonder why Jack
was so tolerant with the kid's awkwardness. They expected him to blow
up ages ago. And Jack was wise enough to figure out that his 'pals'
were egging Kennedy along because they wanted to see Jack lose his cool
and blow up. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.
On the other hand, Jack also knew he was
subconsciously wishing and waiting for Kennedy to go further and ask
*how* he could make it up to him. Jack had whiled away many an hour
fantasying about what he would have Kennedy do for him-- Gods… he
needed a break from training and to get out someplace where there was
ready company he could safely seduce or at the least buy.
*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~
Jack was pissed off. Finally… finally the
instructors decided to let the hard working trainees have a break and
allowed them to leave camp and have some fun in the nearby city and… he
wasn't interested. Yeah, there were several women who looked at his
scar intriguingly. His friends had sniggered behind their hands when
they noticed how many were drawn to him because of the 'manly' scar
that seemed to have him marked as a more exciting and 'dangerous' man
to engage as compared to the other trainees. And he hadn't been
interested.
After a few hours of drinking where he watched
on the sidelines while his friends and peers drifted away with a woman
or two on their arm, Jack brushed off the many offers he received and
called it a night. The last person he had wanted to bump into when he
returned to camp, and entered the communal showers for a wash before he
headed for his rooms, was Kennedy.
Oh, Gods… The kid was looking mighty good in
the nude and surrounded by a fine mist of steam that left little to the
imagination. Jack felt a formerly recalcitrant part of him spring to
life and strain against his jeans. Shit!
Having sensed his presence, the smaller man
had swung around to stare at his rigid form. “Krauser?”
Jack's mouth had gone dry the moment he got
his first full frontal look of the kid. The light blush on the man's
cheeks as he tried to modestly cover himself from his scrutiny just
made Jack feel even more aroused.
“What are you doing here?” Jack had to
be thankful that his voice hadn't cracked.
“What's it to you?” The kid had bristled
at him a touch defensively. “What are you doing back here so soo--? Oh…“
“Kennedy.” Jack groaned inwardly. He
could just imagine the cogs turning in the kid's head. “It's not what
you're thinking--“
“I'm sor--”
That did it. Jack later blamed his reaction on
the complex combination of favourable factors that lead to their
meeting like this. He strode forward right through the spray of water
to slam the smaller man up against the wall. “Look Kennedy! I am sick
and tired of hearing you say that! It's just words to me now! If you're
that sorry, why don't you do something about it and get over it?”
“But--“ The other man had looked down
and away not willing to meet his eyes.
"What? You think I'm not going to get laid
ever again 'cause of this?” Jack lifted his chin to force him to meet
his gaze. “What? You think you want to make up for it?"
“And what would you have me do?” The
softly said words went straight to his groin.
Shit! He hadn't expected this. The offer was
in the man's entire body language and Jack couldn't find it within him
to refuse, whether or not the other man understood what he had just
unleashed.
The kid had tensed at the first touch of his
lips, but he hadn't struggled nor tried to bite the tongue Jack had
shoved past his teeth. Kennedy tasted of mint with a slight hint of
coffee, telling Jack that he had probably eaten at the cafeteria and
just brushed his teeth before his shower.
There were a lot of things he should have
done, but Jack ignored his conscience and listened to his screaming
libido as he pressed up against the wet and nude, lithe figure he had
been daydreaming of for months. When he later reflected on this, Jack
had to admit that the man probably hadn't expected him to react the way
he did. The lack of a corresponding erection had registered, but Jack
hadn't cared. Kennedy hadn't relaxed into the kiss either, yet he
pushed aside any consideration towards backing off. Jack had a need
that demanded fulfilling and where available women couldn't stir up the
interest, Kennedy did and he had made an offer.
He was all over the smaller man with lips,
teeth and hands. It was addictive to hear what tiny gasps and moans he
could pull out of the man with strategic nips, licks, pinches and
caresses. Even as he was drawing a responsive erection from Kennedy,
Jack had a sudden thought that this could all be totally new to him.
However, that only pushed his libido up several notches as he found
himself determined to be the one to have the kid's cherry ass.
“Krauser?” His questing lips prevented
Kennedy from saying much or managing to raise any protests.
Soap slicked fingers found Kennedy's treasured
pucker and Jack swallowed the gasp he let loose at the determined
probe. Oh, the kid was going to be tight. Jack was getting harder in
his eagerness to plunder that converted hole. For the first time since
they started, Jack felt the kid begin to struggle against him. He
didn't let off though. Before Kennedy could get his wits together to
put up any meaningful resistance, Jack's exploring fingers found his
prostrate. At the firm rub, Kennedy had flung his head back in a gasp
of pleasure that exposed the long column of his neck to Jack's eager
assault.
The kid finally let go of himself with the
repeated probing against his prostrate gland, panting in Jack's ear as
he clung to him after his legs failed to hold him up. Taking this as
the moment to finally fulfil his need too before he blew his load
prematurely, Jack made Kennedy loosen his hold about his neck and turn
around to grab onto one of the pipes while he unzipped his jeans to
free his eager cock. His hand had quickly clamped over the smaller
man's mouth to stifle his scream when he stabbed forward to push the
head of his cock into the stretched, soap slicked hole.
It was agony for Jack to wait for Kennedy to
relax before he started thrusting. But he waited patiently for the
smaller man to get used to his presence within him, careful to keep his
hand over Kennedy's mouth while licking and placing soft kisses and
gentle nips on his back and neck. Gods, Kennedy was tight. Tighter than
any woman he had ever taken to his bed. Jack just knew he had never
done this before.
It felt like an eternity had passed before he
felt the man begin to relax, and for Jack to feel safe about continuing
his slide into the constrictive tunnel. He did it in small, slow
thrusts, mindful of the newness of this all to the kid and not wanting
to tear him up. Jack could feel a Cheshire like grin spreading over his
face as Kennedy's hands left the pipes for a moment to grip his hands
and reposition them on one of his nipples and over his reviving
erection. He obligingly pulled and played with the hardening numbs of
his lover's nipples and began stroking Kennedy's erection in time to
his thrusts.
The sound of hard boots clattering in the
corridor outside the showers made them freeze. Jack cursed inwardly as
he felt the erection instantly flag in his grip. He had a sudden sense
that if anyone discovered them in the communal showers they may ask to
join in. He could feel himself bristle at the thought of being asked to
'share' Kennedy.
"Let's finish this where we won't be
interrupted." He reluctantly drew out of the sweet tunnel and laid a
kiss against Kennedy's chin.
Jack carefully kept a hold of the kid as he
helped him cover up for the stealthy dash to Krauser's quarters. He
knew that if he let Kennedy pull away, the kid would bolt. Already,
Jack could tell that he was seriously having second thoughts over his
capitulation to Krauser's demands.
In his quarters with the door locked and
farther barricaded with a chair, Jack turned to face his pale lover in
the moonlit room. The erection that had flagged during their run to the
living quarters flared to life again at the sight of the slightly
trembling figure seated demurely on his bed.
“Strip, S--Kennedy.” He changed his
address immediately, remembering the smaller man's dislike of the
nickname awarded to him by his peers.
“Krau--“ Jack took the two steps
necessary to bring him within reach and drowned whatever Leon might
have said with a searing kiss.
“Jack.” He breathed softly against
Leon's panting mouth when he finally let the man up for air. “I want to
hear you call me 'Jack' when I make you come.”
“K-- J--Jack, I--“
“Strip, Leon. I want to see all of you.”
Jack well knew that his smile looked predatory
as he watched the blushing man begin to remove the clothes they had
covered him up with at the showers. He hadn't allowed Leon to fold
them, taking each article from his hands to throw or drape over any
convenient piece of furniture within his reach.
With the final article of clothing gone, Leon
had scooted up on Jack's bed and, after hesitating for a moment, spread
his legs before his watching eyes. Jack almost shot his load in his
pants to see the man laying himself before him like a sacrifice. He
nearly tore his clothes off in his haste to free his erection and climb
between Leon's legs.
However, before he could get closer, Leon's
hands had reached out to touch Jack's face and to stroke a finger over
the scar that ran from his scalp down an eye and over his lips. Rather
than feel angry with the reminder though, Jack felt as if the nerves of
the scar had been hard wired to his groin. He needed to feel himself
buried in Leon's tight heat and to feel it now.
With no thought towards using more lubricant
or to check and stretch his lover again, Jack grabbed Leon around the
waist, lifted him into position and stabbed in, almost bottoming out
immediately with that forceful shove. Leon's hands had
immediately moved from Jack's face to his shoulders, clutching them in
a bruising white knuckled grip as his face reflected his pain from the
sudden impalement. With his head swimming in mindless arousal for the
tight heat his cock was enclosed in, Jack started whispering nearly
nonsensical endearments as he laid tiny kisses over Leon's face and
shoulders, while Leon chewed on his lips to stop himself from
whimpering in pain.
“Sorry. Sorry. I couldn't wait, Baby.
Couldn't wait any longer. Had to have you, Baby. Had to feel myself in
you. Relax, Baby. Relax, the pain will be gone in a minute.”
At later reflection, Jack had to admit to
himself that he'd wondered why Leon hadn't torn his throat out with his
teeth when he had called him 'Baby'. He could have. At that moment,
Jack had been in no state to recognise danger even if it up and slapped
him on the butt. The crushing grip around his cock was sending his
senses into La La land. It was only a lot later that memory supplied
him with the script of his embarrassing babbling.
It took a long time for Leon's fierce clutch
to ease on Jack's shoulders, and from the ache he was already beginning
to feel, Jack knew that he was going to show some mighty powerful
bruises on his arms for the next week or two. As he watched, Leon
slipped down to lie back against Jack's pillows. He could feel the
man's body relax and go limp, instantly making Jack think of the advice
their instructors had given them in one of their classes concerning
interrogation… and rape.
“Leon…” It frustrated Jack that the man
wouldn't look at him, but carefully hid his eyes behind his fringe.
Feeling Jack's erection going limp within its
velvety sheath was probably the only reason why Leon at last turned to
look at him. Jack raised a hand to gently brush his fringe away from
his eyes. “I want you. But if you want to go, I'll let you go.”
Again, Leon's hand rose to gently trace the
scar that ran down Jack's face, and the touch renewed his erection.
Jack reached to catch Leon's hand and kiss the palm before turning it
to allow him to kiss along the length of his arm until he reached the
smaller man's face. Once there, he laid small kisses over Leon's chin
before claiming his mouth hungrily.
Leon's other hand had moved to slide up and
down Jack's bicep before it moved to brush over his neck and into his
hair. It hesitated there for just a moment before it changed into a
grip that helped to pull Jack's face tighter against his as Leon also
started taking an active role in the kiss.
Jack was feeling his erection returning with a
vengeance as they mutually devoured each other's mouths. Though the
positioning was awkward, he started to rock his hips slightly as they
continued their tongue duel. Soon enough though, Leon broke the kiss
and arched away so that he could hook his legs around Jack's waist to
help pull his ass into his lover's thrusting movements.
That effort was enough consent for Jack to
start fucking the smaller man more forcefully. His hands quickly slid
down Leon's body to hold him by his hips and buttocks, moving him into
position for Jack to start making long, hard thrusts into the heavenly,
clenching heat. Jack paid careful attention to his lover's body as he
shifted Leon under him until the man started making delightful little
mews of pleasure and clutched at the bed sheets beside his face,
telling Jack that he finally got the angle right to be brushing against
the man's prostrate with every stroke.
Jack upped the force and speed of his thrusts
with Leon's very vocal and physical encouragement as the man's legs
locked around Jack's waist to pull him harder and faster into him with
every stroke. With that additional support, Jack moved a hand from
Leon's waist to the man's neglected cock to begin stroking and
squeezing it in time to his fucking.
“Leon, call my name. Call my name.” And for
the next several minutes, that was all the sound that filled the room;
whispers of their names punctuated by the hard, wet slap of thrusting
hips hitting receptive buttocks.
The forceful constriction of muscles around
his cock when Leon came was enough to set Jack off as well to geyser
into the sweet clenching heat. It took a long time for the stars to
clear from Jack's eyes as he trembled on shaking arms over his lover's
recumbent body. Every muscle screamed for him to let himself drop and
mould his body over the one on his bed and smear the come of Leon's
release between them. But Jack held strong; he well knew that it was
neither romantic, nor desirable by his lover to be crushed under his
weight.
Leon's hand reached to touch his face again,
this time letting his fingers glide over the trails of sweat that stood
on Jack's face. Jack pulled him up and into a kiss that left them
panting for breath when he finally released him. Still balls deep
within the smaller man, Jack got his second wind and was quickly hard
once more. Leon had made a tiny moan which could have been read as
distress when Jack started rocking into him again, but the man didn't
try to push Jack away or even make an attempt to dislodge him.
They fucked three more times through the
night. The last two times with Leon's back to him so that Jack could
take him from behind. Once with the man straddling his lap so that Jack
could play with his cock and balls while he ravished the man's neck
from behind and bucked into the constrictive heaven. Once with the man
on his hands and knees while Jack ploughed forcefully into him from
behind, hard enough to send the whole bed rocking and creaking.
Sometime during the second last fuck, Jack had slipped a condom on the
smaller man so that they didn't need to worry about a wet spot when
they were ready to collapse and sleep. He didn't bother to use one
himself though, desiring the intimacy of spending himself in Leon's
ass. The fourth fuck of the night finally did them both in, and they
settled to sleep at last with Jack pulling Leon on top of him so that
he could stay spooned behind the smaller man and firmly embedded in his
ass.
*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~
When Jack finally woke up the next morning,
Leon was already gone. He was disappointed, and wondered how he could
have slept through Leon disengaging his cock from his ass. Jack had
hoped that they could have gone a couple more rounds before he let Leon
go.
“Hey, Jack?! You finally awake in there?”
Hearing his friend at his door, Jack came
abruptly to full consciousness as he glanced about him frantically to
see if Leon had left any evidence of his presence behind. There was
none except for a spent condom in the trash. Groaning, Jack flopped
back into bed as his door swung open and a couple of his buddies
trooped in.
The hand print bruises on his shoulders stood
out as did the unmistakable smell of sex in the room. “You sly dog! You
managed to sneak a woman into camp?”
“Don't kiss and tell.” Jack grunted at
them, wondering how his buddy expected his date to have managed to
sneak out again.
A laugh greeted his words. “And here we
thought your cock was broke last night the way you kept brushing off
all those dames.” Jack smirked internally. Oh, it was far from 'broke'.
Four rounds in all wasn't too bad a count.
“Damn! The way you had that mob of
ladies circling you last night, maybe we should ask Skippy to give us a
slice to make us chick-magnets too.”
That statement had Jack sitting up in bed fast
as he had a sudden image of Leon letting himself be fucked by a scarred
man who was *not* him. “Lay off the kid, Matt. He's already apologised
enough.” And more…
Shit!
Jack tuned out the laughter and teasing of his
friends as he laid his head on his knees. He remembered the way Leon
had touched the scar on his face the previous night, and he realised
then that last night meant nothing to the kid. It was just payback for
the scarring and injury. In the light of day, and now that his libido
wasn't in control of his brain anymore, Jack's conscience hit him full
force and yelled at him for taking advantage of confused kid. Any way
he looked at it, Jack knew that Leon only allowed Jack to fuck him
because he thought it would make up for injury the smaller man had
inflicted to his face. That was as good as rape.
Leon would probably never tell anyone, and
they'd likely just keep it between the two of them, but Jack knew that
what happened last night would stay with the kid for as long as he
lived. They needed to talk; while Jack wasn't too keen on the idea of
having Leon press charges, he did need to make it up to him. At the
least, he needed to apologize and try to undo what damage he had done
to the man's psyche.
*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~*.~
Unfortunately, thoughts and determination were
very different to being allowed the opportunity to carry out the
action. Whereas he used to dread seeing Leon about the camp previously,
now Jack had to appreciate how good Leon was in evasive manoeuvres when
he put his mind to it. Outside of classes where they couldn't talk,
Leon had practically disappeared to Jack's senses. Jack couldn't be
sure what Leon had told his friends, but they were also obviously
protecting him and warning him off whenever he came near.
Jack wasn't anymore pleased to hear the
scuttlebutt around the camp gossiping over how Skippy's PTSD had seemed
to take a turn for the worse with the man jumping whenever anyone even
casually brushed in close proximity to him. Only Jack knew that that
reaction had nothing to do with Leon's experience in Raccoon City, and
it made his guilt increase ten-fold.
He tried everything he could think of to
confront and talk to Leon without the involvement of their instructors.
But Leon continued to avoid him. And before Jack knew it, his class was
moving on to a new training facility.
As he lugged his kit to the waiting transport,
Jack stared about him miserably hoping perhaps he'd have a last chance
to have a few words with Leon before he left. A look from behind a
curtained window was all he got and Jack felt the crushing guilt hit
him to see the plain confusion and apprehension in the gaze that Leon
gave him. Of all the stupid things he had ever done, the damage he had
inflicted on this man was most probably the worst. If Leon washed out,
Jack knew that it would be his fault. But somehow, he felt that Leon
wouldn't let himself fail.
The man had faced the disaster of Raccoon City
as a rookie and emerged alive. That showed him to be a man with more
strength than a good many men he knew. Despite what Jack had done to
him, Jack did hope that Leon had strength enough in him to deal with
the set back he had inflicted.
For now though, Jack could only hope that
their paths would cross again so that he could make amends. Until then,
he would see the reminder of his selfishness and stupidity every day
with the scar down his face.
~Owari~
Thanks for reading.
Cheers,
Jacque
DISCLAIMER:
Resident Evil is owned by
Capcom Co. Ltd.
Resident Evil is owned by
Capcom Co. Ltd.
All these
characters and materials are used without permission, and I'm
not profiting from this piece of fan fiction.
characters and materials are used without permission, and I'm
not profiting from this piece of fan fiction.