Resident Evil - Leon in Wonderland

DISCLAIMER: 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.

Author's Note: This is firewolf's version of a 'Leon in Wonderland' Epilogue with references to firewolf's Mendez x Leon story; the Saddler x Leon + Novistadors x Leon story; and an as yet unwritten Colmillo x Leon story

Resident Evil 4 - Leon in Wonderland - Entrapment
By firewolf
April 2006
@>;-'-

As he moved stealthily through the compound, Jack Krauser frankly didn't know whether to be amused or irritated by the messed up situation. It seemed to be ultimately sad that the hero of the 'Los Illuminados Offensive' could be so quietly and swiftly incarcerated in this hellhole of a detention centre.

Rough cheers and raucous laughter resounded and echoed in the basement, warning Krauser to expect at least three men with the prisoner he'd been sent to rescue. Softer sounds of chains rhythmically rattling, accompanied by groin tightening moans were clear enough announcements of the activity within the only occupied cell.

The two men supposedly standing guard outside the cell went down without a sound, courtesy of a silenced magnum. Given their riveted interest in the action within the cell, Krauser doubted either was aware of his approach before they died. The men with the prisoner proved to be no more watchful. None took any notice of Krauser when his bulk filled the doorway, cutting off most of the light into the dimly lit cell.

If Krauser wondered how someone as resourceful as Kennedy could have been neutralised, he found out the method now. A simple blindfold... Someone certainly warned the guards of Kennedy's past status as a honey trap agent.

With the blindfold stealing his sight, the kid wouldn't be able to identify a single individual to focus his concentration on and attempt an entrapment. Besides that, Krauser suspected the guards were also forbidden to use their prisoner singularly. He couldn't come up with any other rational why the guards would share Kennedy in the way they did now, rather than taking turns.

The guard most responsible for the rattling chains was holding onto Kennedy's hips and fucking him. The other two had command of his upper body; one sucking and practically chewing on Kennedy's bruised neck, the other licking and playing with a nipple while ineffectively pulling on their captive's limp cock.

An unaccountable flame of anger flared within Krauser's chest. He had been furious with Kennedy for disrupting his Los Illuminados mission, but for all his earlier thoughts that he'd be entertained to witness the interfering younger man being abused... He found no joy in the show.

The rapists were so enraptured of their victim they were unaware of their new audience. It was a big mistake. Two shots took out the men on either side of Kennedy and a knife to the kidneys handled the one responsible for making the chains holding the prisoner rattle.

Kennedy was indeed a sight to see when Krauser unceremoniously pushed aside the dead guards. Without the support of his rapists, Kennedy hung slumped in his chains. The vicious bruises and bleeding chafe marks on his wrists were evidence enough that the younger man had apparently been chained up nude and spread eagled in the cell since his disappearance.

Long bleeding welts lined a body painted with dark flowering bruises left by numerous fists and booted feet. His shoulders, neck and chest were further cut with the impressions of teeth, with many of the bite marks bleeding quite profusely.

"Who's there?" Krauser almost didn't recognised Kennedy's voice. "Please-- don't-- hurt me anymore... Just-- fuck me... I'll be-- good for you..."

The little practiced speech alarmed Krauser, making him wonder if he was too late to enact Wesker's plan. This broken man was virtually unrecognisable to anyone who had known the vigorous and confident wildcat in his training days.

Just months earlier, Krauser had been forced to stand witness to the man's rape by a swarm of Novistadors to create Saddler's commemorative recording. Back then, he believed it to be the end for Kennedy. The cult leader even thought nothing of leaving Kennedy with his weapons and ordering a bucket of scented water be left for his pet-to-be to tide him over till he reported to Saddler's quarters for his new duties.

Hours later, no one could say who was more shocked to witness Kennedy again covering excellent ground in opposition of their efforts. Krauser had been amused beyond words to learn that it was the Plagas which allowed Kennedy to physically function without the aches and strains one might expect after a day of marathon sex. Otherwise, red-green cure all or no, Kennedy should not have had the ability to stand, much less walk for a week after the Novistador gang bang.

In all honesty, Krauser thought having a swarm of Novistadors use him as a vehicle to fuck themselves to death was worse than anything the humans could have done to Kennedy. Apparently, he was wrong.

"You're a mess, kid."

He hadn't realised he said this aloud until the younger man lifted his head tiredly in his direction. "Kraus--? No-- no-- just imagining..."

"What if it is me?" He took the few steps necessary to move around to Kennedy's front and gently lifted off the blindfold.

Wary eyes were instantly flooded with tears as they blinked rapidly at him, attesting to the long hours Kennedy had spent without light. It took a while before the younger man could focus on his face.

"You're supposed to be dead. I killed you."

Hearing Kennedy's stronger, more confident and familiar sounding voice again gave Krauser some hope for his mission. "Yeah, you did and so did the bitch in the red dress. But I'm made of sterner stuff so don't look so disappointed, comrade."

He dug for his medi-kit, quickly chambered a red-green vial in an airgun and pressed it to Kennedy's arm. The kid screamed with the healing pain which coursed through his body as welts and tears sealed, bones knitted and muscles realigned.

This was the wonderful miracle of the red-green cure all; it would heal a body completely. However the more abused and damaged a person was, the more it would hurt as the body was forced to repair itself at an abnormal rate. Krauser had heard stories about injured soldiers suffering a heart attack or dying from the shock of a red-green cure all's vicious healing rate. Fortunately, Kennedy was standing up to the shock.

It was a mistake to take a longer look at Kennedy's now healed body as he hung in his chains, panting, sweaty and covered in both crusted and dripping come. Gods he was still beautiful.

"Krauser, get me down."

Krauser smiled to hear Kennedy sounding more like himself again. More like the confident little spitfire who first caught his eye and won his respect in the knife fight which gave him the scar over his face.

"In a minute--" Krauser looked appreciatively at the helpless tableau laid before him. Outside of a mission, there were very few men whom Kennedy would willingly spread his legs for. And here he was now; come covered, sweaty and panting with his legs chained apart...

Wesker had briefed Krauser rather extensively on what he needed to do with Kennedy upon his rescue. This was a perfect moment for Krauser to force Kennedy to acknowledge his helplessness and dependency upon his one time rival, and establish the status quo between them.

Krauser spied the hose against one of the cell walls and bent to pull the three dead bodies aside. He'd need to loot them to put something together for Kennedy to wear when they left, but first--

"Krauser-- wha--" Kennedy's words ended in a strangled cry when the jet of water hit him.

The younger man squirmed miserably as Krauser hosed him down. Krauser wondered if Kennedy's mind was flashing back on him now, reminding him of the occasions when the guards would spray wash then fuck his wet and shivering body.

As soon as Krauser thought the man clean enough, he dropped the hose to stride up and press himself against Kennedy's trembling and dripping body. "Now isn't this much better?"

Kennedy's snarling reply came back through chattering teeth. "Stop messing around, Krauser. Get me down."

"You had scores of bastards riding your sweet ass since I last fucked you, Leon." Krauser purred into Kennedy's ear as he released his zipper and took out his eager cock to slide its tip into the valley of the younger man's ass cheeks. "I hate that-- You've probably forgotten what I feel like."

"Kra--!" Krauser clamped a hand over Kennedy's mouth muffling any further words.

"No names, Comrade. You don't want to give us away and spoil my rescue attempt, do you?" Kennedy growled angrily behind the hand.

Any further attempts at protest ended in a muffled scream when Krauser rudely shoved his eager cock into Kennedy's come slicked hole. The constrictive clench delivered the sweet pleasure Krauser had dreamed of receiving since he was informed of his new assignment.

"Fuck, Leon." Krauser breathed into Kennedy's neck. This was glorious.

With all the entertainment Kennedy provided his captors over the last several weeks, it was a wonder to Krauser that the younger man hadn't been stretched loose. He guessed the officers at the facility must have made judicious use of cure alls to ensure his ass stayed tight for them. And as furious as Krauser was with the officers who'd probably encouraged Kennedy's abuse, he had to acknowledge some gratitude to them for their foresight.

Still, there was a primal force within Krauser which demanded he use his body to 'erase' the feel of the previous rapists from Kennedy's memory. Jack adjusted his stance to have the younger man's buttocks resting on his pelvis, ensuring Kennedy's full weight was practically impaling him on his cock.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kennedy's hands loop around the chains in their effort to save his wrists from the cruel cut of the manacles. Krauser smiled at this, seeing it as the younger man's acknowledgment and acceptance that he was going to be fucked hard.

Chains rattled in the silence of the cell again, tinkling to the rhythm of Krauser's thrusting hips. The kid didn't hang passively though. Within the limits imposed by the chains and Krauser's supportive hand, Kennedy was twisting his hips and body to eagerly fuck back against the invading cock.

Krauser didn't doubt that Kennedy's movements were designed to heighten his pleasure and make him come quickly. Remembering, the first broken words he had heard from Kennedy's lips, Krauser wondered if this was just a defensive response trained in him by his captors. Or if it was a glimmer of one of the Agency's foremost honey trap agents lurking beneath the surface.

Krauser felt jealousy burn through him as the smaller man squirmed and tightened inner muscles upon his ravening cock. This was what all the guards and the officers at the detention centre had enjoyed for the several weeks of Kennedy's incarceration-- this firm muscled, lithe figure writhing helplessly upon their eager cocks-- This heavenly, sweet clenching heat which Krauser barely remembered-- which he had not been privileged to partake of since he left the Agency to join Wesker two years earlier.

He moved his hand from Leon's mouth to touch his lover's cock, only to be shocked by what he found. Fuck! The man wasn't anywhere near hard enough to come.

So-- the kid still lived up to his reputation of using his body to every advantage... Try as he might though, Krauser was too far along to hold back his appreciation for the man's skilfully clenching inner muscles.

Before Wesker let him go, he had drummed into Krauser the absolute importance of keeping Kennedy subjugated; that the man couldn't be allowed any significant victories to booster his confidence.

Fuck! Krauser needed to swing control of the situation back in his hands-- and he knew how.

"Damn, Kid. I've missed you." Krauser breathed into Kennedy's ear as he ploughed into him at a quicker pace. "Do you know how much it killed me to just stand by and film Saddler's perverted gang bang?"

As Krauser had expected, Leon's movements faltered with his words. "How--?"

"I'm-- sorry, Leon-- The Novistadors-- It was a test. Saddler had me capture five hours, and I couldn't do a *damn* *thing* 'cause I needed his trust for my mission."

"No-- No one else was-- supposed to know--"

"And I thought Mendez's boasting was bad enough--" Krauser went on as if Kennedy hadn't spoken. "But when the bitch in the red dress mentioned the Alpha-Colmillo..."

Kennedy ceased all movement and just hung completely limp in his chains. Krauser smirked. It looked like Wesker called it right in guessing Kennedy wouldn't document the many times he had been raped in the report to his superiors. The kid was in shock to hear he knew of his sexual exploits during the 'Los Illuminados Offensive'.

Krauser was sure that the mention of the Colmillo had been the kicker. There was no way Kennedy could have known his traumatic encounter in the hedge maze had been witnessed; though not by Wong as he alluded to. Krauser had been the lucky guy to glance out the window of the tower at the exact moment the Plagas infected dog pounced on the momentarily distracted man.

At first blush, Krauser would admit he had watched in alarm and shock when the Plagas infected wolf held Kennedy down and used its teeth and tentacles to strip off his pants. Then he began to notice the subtle changes Mendez had claimed would be enhanced by the Plagas. Until Saddler dispatched him to film the Novistadors fucking Kennedy though, Krauser hadn't fully appreciated the Plagas released sexuality and submission which had been wrought upon the younger man.

The Plagas was long gone now. However, Krauser knew he wanted Kennedy subjugated in a similar way under *his* power. But not as a broken sex slave... He had too much respect for the man to want him shattered to that degree.

Krauser had practically jumped at the opportunity Wesker offered despite his trepidation for psychological 'warfare'. It was a delicate operation which Krauser wasn't sure he was up to. Still the rewards were too good to resist.

Kennedy's current stupor made it feel like he was fucking dead weight with a tight hole, but Krauser wasn't particularly worried for his mental state just yet. There would be a better time for sweet loving later where Krauser was determined make the younger man scream to be fucked.

And for real this time. Not like the entrapment Kennedy had successfully cast on Mendez. Right now Krauser was just claim marking him until they got to a safe house.

"Missed you." He breathed into Kennedy's ear as he orgasmed deep into him.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

They made the discovery that Kennedy could barely walk much less move stealthily, when Krauser finally released him from the chains. It shouldn't have surprised them. While the red-green cure alls were great on injuries, they weren't much help for general aches, strains and general shock. And the kid had had the shit fucked out of him for several weeks. The fucking Krauser had given him did nothing to improve matters either.

There were apparently plus points to having a sex-slave Plagas which could handle the stresses of marathon sex. Kennedy had been fine after the Novistador gang bang. Now, however, he ached too much to put significant weight on his legs. Whether he liked it or not, Kennedy had to acknowledge Krauser as his only hope of escape.

The kid had looked surprised when Krauser offered him a fully loaded Blacktail after they finished dressing him in clothes rifled from the bodies of his dead captors. But that was only until Krauser's knowing smirk reminded Kennedy that in his current state he wouldn't dare use it against his former rival and enemy.

There was nothing else to it but for Krauser to curl a firm arm around Kennedy's waist to half carry and half drag the man with him, while he braced his TMP one handed and against his other side. This was, fortunately, little problem for Krauser's BOW enhanced physique. Besides, there was a smug bastard smile within Krauser bursting to get out whenever Kennedy squirmed against his side because he'd feel the bigger man's come dribbling out.

It took a tensed few minutes for Krauser to navigate them out of the basement and over a wall. Half an hour outside the facility which had been Kennedy's prison, Krauser started talk between them again. He needed to keep the kid off balanced and distract him from thinking of ways to escape from his company.

Also, Wesker had reminded Krauser over and over again to make sure Kennedy understood that in escaping with him, he was now a fugitive of the government. He had to be made to acknowledge his dependency on Krauser, and by extension Wesker; there was no going back.

"So-- How *did* you end up in this hell hole?"

"Trouble with the First Daughter..."

He gave Kennedy an inelegant snort. "Was she at least worth it?"

"Don't know."

"Say what?!"

Kennedy's face burned at the incredulity Krauser's put behind his words. "Someone must have seen her sneak into my room dressed only in a robe. But I marched her right out before she could take it off."

Krauser grunted. "They don't deserve you, Leon."

"And you do?" A wry smile pulled at Leon's lips as he looked up at him

Krauser took a glance back first to check that they were far enough away for him to consider a faster, less stealthy pace. Turning back to Kennedy, Krauser gave him an innocent smile as he handed him the TMP and scooped him up in his arms.

"I came for you, didn't I?"

"I thought you died in a helicopter crash, you asshole." Kennedy hissed as Krauser broke into a jog. "And I killed you on that island."

"Did you cry for me?"

"Bastard."

"Ha! You did. Didn't you?" Krauser smirked at him as they covered good ground in the darkness of the rugged wilderness. "Wuss."

Kennedy's voice was very sweet as he laid the muzzle of the TMP against Krauser's nose. "Would you care to repeat that?"

"Still can't take a tease, can you?" He grumped at the smaller man with a pout and nonchalantly nudged the muzzle aside with his chin. "And for what it's worth-- I'm glad you won on the island, Leon. After the BOW treatment, I'm near impossible to kill. But if you'd died--"

"I wouldn't have been sent to this hellhole to be raped to death by that ungrateful--" Kennedy fell silent again as he brooded in Krauser's arms.

Krauser deliberately lost his smile, but inside, he was crowing in elation. This was moving smoother than he expected. Granted, Wesker had given him a lot of coaching, but Krauser hadn't been fully confident about his role in manipulating Kennedy. He had felt woefully out of his league when Wesker laid down the outline of what he was to do. Krauser was more than aware of his own limitations; he was a fighter and a soldier, not a tactician or a spy. Unlike Kennedy...

For God's sakes, the younger man had been one of the Agency's best honey trap agents before a botched mission ruined his nerve. Krauser couldn't say he was full of confidence about being coached long distance by Wesker to persuade Kennedy to join them.

To Krauser's judgement, the only thing going for them right now was the recent shit in Kennedy's life. The kid hadn't even had the chance to recover from the various abuses from the 'Los Illuminados Offensive' before he'd apparently been tossed into another hell hole by their own President.

Now that had been a stroke of genius by Wesker. It took a hell of a lot of slight of hand in the background, but Kennedy would never know the President only arranged for him to be reassigned.

While the detention centre was real, Wesker had also manipulated the records to ensure all the guards and officers assigned to it were of a certain 'type.' It hadn't taken very long for a few 'hints' to filter down and for Kennedy's torture and abuse to start.

Still, the rest was up to Krauser now. And he was seriously wondering if he was up to the responsibility which Wesker laid on him.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

Krauser stood by as Leon twisted in his seat to stare back at the barely visible series of buildings which had been his prison for those long days and weeks. Apart from two guards, the three rapists killed in his cell, and the five more bodies Krauser had led Kennedy pass on their track out, there were no other casualties.

It was quite apparent that Kennedy was feeling utterly dissatisfied about not being allowed a single opportunity to use the fully loaded Blacktail. And Krauser really wanted to reclaim the weapon.

This early in the rescue, Krauser didn't want Leon to have temptation too readily within reach. He would much rather not be killed a third time and have to hunt across the country for the man after Wesker revived him.

"Where--"

"One of the government's secret detention camps for suspected terrorists." Krauser told him without waiting for the rest of the question to be voiced as he too looked back at the facility.

"And before you ask, 'No.' how you were treated was *not* standard procedure. Wesker told me since you weren't a terrorist you wouldn't be interrogated; just held at the President's Pleasure."

'President's Pleasure.' The words Krauser used were deliberate to subtly reinforce in Kennedy's mind the falsehood that his abuse was sanctioned by Graham. Wesker said this would shake any lingering foundations of loyalty Kennedy held for their President.

Kennedy looked down and stared at the Blacktail which he still held. Krauser waved a small black device into his view to break into his thoughts.

"Trade you?" He smirked at him cheekily.

"What's this?" As he hoped, the smirk drew Kennedy into giving him a curious smile.

"You don't recognise a detonator trigger, kid? You mean to tell me they never let you take any fun missions?"

Kennedy blinked as Krauser gently swapped the Blacktail in his suddenly slack hands with the little device. "Aren't there--"

"The other cells are empty. You were the only one in the facility." Krauser shook his head as he looked back at the buildings. "In fact, from what I heard when I was looking for you, I got you out none too soon. All shifts were coming in this morning to have one last party before they planted you."

At the back of his mind, Krauser sneered at the providential annihilation Wesker had set up to rid their country of the problematic and abusive guards in their employ. No one could argue that this was not a great service to their country.

Kennedy stared at the trigger device in his hands for a long moment making Krauser feel a bit anxious. "Y' know, Leon. The alarm's going to go out soon when they get to your cell to fetch you and find--"

Leon activated the detonator with a very decisive click at the same moment an alarm started to blare in the distant compound. Krauser hid a nervous sigh of relief while Kennedy closed his eyes to savour the far off sounds of explosions drowning then killing the klaxon cries of the security alarms.

The younger man's hand was trembling as he dropped the small box. Krauser wondered what he was thinking of.

"Jack?" Kennedy's sudden look up at him nearly made Krauser jump with his nervousness; though the use of his first name did ease some of his tension. "How *did* you get close enough to snatch Ashley?"

"You won't like the answer, Leon." This was it. Wesker had prepared a fool proof lie for Krauser to deliver, and he knew that he had better not mess up.

"Try me."

Krauser sighed as he gestured for Kennedy to settle properly into the passenger seat before he started the Jeep. "Graham sanctioned the abduction. He-- I'm not sure you want to hear the rest. The man's not as upstanding as he'd like the public to believe."

A pregnant silence fell between them. The trick was, Wesker had told Krauser, to allow Kennedy to draw his own conclusions with subtle prompting from a few leading words. Allow him to work out for himself the line he could draw between loyalty to the President and loyalty to their country. Given the man's recent traumatic experience, it would be easy to surreptitiously nudge him towards accusatory thoughts to find meaning behind the abuse heaped upon him.

"Jack? I want to know."

As Wesker instructed, Krauser hesitated and tried not to appear too eager in imparting his knowledge. "It was an idea which was bouncing around the higher ups. We never figured Graham would agree to it." Krauser began softly as he turned the jeep onto the highway.

"The girl was a looker-- Actually, that probably wouldn't have mattered. She was the President's daughter. There was a pretty good chance she'd be taken advantage of by the locals just so they could boast about fucking the daughter of America's President."

"Ash-- She-- didn't say anything--" Krauser almost didn't hear Kennedy's whisper over the sounds of the highway. "I wondered why she was so hysterical when I first found her."

"Well-- yeah-- she had it rough. I couldn't always be nearby to discourage the fuckers. But-- Ashley Graham didn't know it was her own daddy who took her cherry before she was handed over to me."

"He what?!"

Krauser shook his head at Kennedy's exclamation. "The man had the hots for his own daughter and hated the fact. He wanted her as far away from him as possible.

"Since she *was* being sent away and expert opinion was she'd be raped anyway-- he indulged."

"She-- He never expected-- didn't-- really want her back..." Leon whispered to himself in shock at his sudden revelation. "That's why I was the only one sent out even though it was my first guard assignment... He-- they didn't expect..."

"Yeah, they lined you up to fail.

"Shit, Leon. You didn't even speak the local lingo of the area you ended up in. One would think a President's daughter would rate a few security teams to search for her." Krauser placed a hand on Leon's knee and gave it a supporting squeeze. "But they didn't understand the resourcefulness of the man they sent in."

The rest of the ride was completed in silence as Krauser left Kennedy to stew over his recent 'revelations'. Stage one of their recruitment drive was completed and appeared successful. Krauser knew the next stage would be the most critical. They had to ensure Kennedy was securely brainwashed into throwing his lot in with them.

From other sources, they knew Kennedy had stayed in surreptitious contact with Chris Redfield and his underground anti-Umbrella force. Neither he nor Wesker wanted Kennedy to flee their clutches as soon as he recovered to hook up with the other man.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

Kennedy barely stirred when Krauser drove them off the road and onto a dirt track. However, he did finally look up when Krauser parked them outside an idyllic little mountain cabin.

"Krauser?"

"We've got time off until I can get you back in shape." Krauser killed the engine and came around to Kennedy's side to help him get out of the jeep. "This is one of our safe houses."

"Wesker?" Kennedy stumbled beside Krauser as the man walked him up the path to the cabin.

"Believe it or not, the man knows how to value the agents under him. He even sent Birkin here to get this place ready for us."

"Sherry?"

"Yeah, Sherry Birkin. Seems her dad and Wesker were best pals a long time ago. She's his goddaughter.

"They hooked up again a year or so back when word finally reached him that she was alive and the government had her."

"Oh--" Kennedy fell silent once more.

Impatient with their slow track, Krauser scooped Kennedy up in his arms and carried him into the cabin like a groom carrying his bride over a threshold. The irony of the situation didn't escape Krauser.

Kennedy, however, had stayed silent and unresisting. He was almost completely unresponsive even after Krauser stripped and left him seated on the toilet while he readied a bath. At the least, he made use of the amenities before Krauser returned for him.

Deciding that he'd rather not waste time with small talk, Krauser carried the younger man over to the Jacuzzi, slipped him into the scented waters and left him to his own devices while he took care of his own toilet. Unfortunately, Kennedy had remained in his daze during his brief departure.

Letting out a long suffering sigh, Krauser climbed into the Jacuzzi beside the silent man and reached for a hand towel to begin scrubbing at his skin. "Y' know, Leon. Birkin said this--" Krauser took a deep sniff of the scent surrounding them. "Earl Grey and lime juice concoction we're sitting in was supposed to make you feel better; said the smell was a good anti-depressant."§

Kennedy finally took the hint and raised a hand to accept the wash rag from Krauser. Feeling unaccountably thoughtful, Krauser grabbed some shampoo to gently wash Kennedy's hair, making him purr in contentment.

"So-- are you ready to start speaking more than one word sentences yet?" Krauser broke the silence they had fallen into after he washed out the shampoo from Kennedy's hair.

"Jack?"

"I guess that's a no."

Kennedy twisted in the Jacuzzi to face him. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Krauser frowned at him petulantly. "I'm not mean to you all the time-- am I?"

"Well--"

"Hey, I can be nice!"

"Er--"

Krauser folded his arms in front of him and pouted. "That's a vote of confidence for you."

"You're only nice to me when you want sex and--" Kennedy looked down.

Krauser couldn't help his smirk. "Maybe later, sweetheart. We don't want to make you as loose as a whore."

"What right have you to decide when I can have sex?" Kennedy suddenly growled at him angrily. "You lost all rights when you left--" He didn't complete his sentence.

For a moment, Krauser was completely lost at this abrupt non sequitur. It was fortunate that they were sitting in a warm, steamy Jacuzzi or Kennedy would have noticed the sweat Krauser was working up as his mind raced to catch onto what the younger man was referring to.

Then, a memory of an encounter, before Krauser had left to join Wesker, came to him. It had been one of their last conversations, shortly after Leon's botched honey trap mission.

"Did I *have* rights?" Jack's incredulity behind his words was genuine. "You punched me across the room when I offered to take care of you."

"I punched you because you thought I was *weak*."

"I never thought you were weak!"

"Yeah, right. You and everyone else were treating me as if I'd shatter if you *breathed* on me too hard."

"I *never* thought you were weak." Jack repeated firmly. "I only thought you'd appreciate someone you could trust just to be supportive whenever you felt you needed to let your guard down for a while."

"And what would that have achieved if I agreed to let you then?" Leon snarled at him. "You 'died!'" 'And left me' were the words left unvoiced.

"Hey, cut me some slack, Leon. I didn't exactly-- well-- I fell sick." Jack looked embarrassed.

"Sick?!" Leon gave him an incredulous look. "There's a *big* difference between dead and sick, Jack!"

"I'm telling you the truth! My leaving wasn't voluntary." Jack waved his left arm at Leon. "This graft threw up a shit load of problems.

"The science dudes didn't think I'd survive, so they staged the helicopter accident for a cover up. I didn't know all that, Leon. The next time I woke up, about a year passed and you'd already moved on. By the time I got used to the arm, Wesker had a job lined up for me--

"Incidentally, I'm still sore about you barging right in and derailing my assignment."

"It wasn't my fault the president sent me in and I thought I had-- a job to do--" Leon looked down lost in his thoughts again.

This had gone out of hand. Krauser had suddenly confused himself with the memories of his past with Leon. He had just been completely honest with Leon, and it scared him. Krauser thought that those emotions had been locked up and discarded years ago.

Wesker had laid this entire mission out and explained the process to him. The generally recommended treatment regarding a victim of sexual abuse was designed for the victim's eventual recovery and emergence back into society as a survivor.

In sharp contrast to the recommendations of providing a 'safe' environment, what Wesker wanted Krauser to do was to continue Kennedy's sexual assault and abuse, but to do so without the pain and cruelty which marked the younger man's experience in the detention centre. Krauser was to essentially 'program' Kennedy into being attached to him. It was to be a classic Stockholm syndrome case. There wasn't supposed to be any emotional stake involved on his part.

"Why?" Leon's quiet question suddenly interrupted Krauser's thoughts.

He had to stall to get his composure back again. "Why what?"

"Why is Wesker-- Why?"

Krauser held back his sigh of relief as their conversation moved back onto comfortable grounds. He had a prepared script for this question. "You can't blame the man's interest after the Los Illuminados debacle. You caught his attention.

"He's seen your file, Leon. You didn't like the job then, but you were still the best undercover honey trapper among all the agencies. Until-- well..."

"Yeah-- and the Agency decided I was too much of a hazard to society to just be retired and let go. Bodyguard detail was tame in comparison to what I did before..." Leon mumbled to himself. "But-- what about Umbrella?"

"It's been under our government's control ever since the stock crashed and it folded. Wesker just uses it to run the Special Agents division.

"Those of us who are dead to our country and are free to do as needed." Krauser smirked. "Not even the President has jurisdiction over us dead agents. That's why I could be sent after you."

Leon looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, you *impressed* the hell out of Wesker." Krauser repeated. "You were set up to *fail*, Leon.

"But in just under a week, you rescued the President's daughter, freed her and yourself of the Plagas you'd been infected with, destroyed a cult and its leader, and royally embarrassed two scores of higher-ups who've been on this case for the last three years.

"The only reason why Wesker's not mad with you too is because he recognised that you were the actual one responsible for liberating the Master Plagas samples. It's a pity the samples were DOA, but that was Wong's doing.

"When Wesker found out what was done to you, he sent me in to get you out. He didn't want to see you planted and have your talent wasted."

"Oh..."

"'Oh?' Is that all you have to say?" Krauser frowned at the younger man in exasperation. "Don't go monosyllabic on me again, kid."

"What do you want me to say, Jack? That I don't believe in the presidency anymore?"

"Leon--"

"Don't Jack-- just-- don't." Leon fell silent again as he stared at the bubbling waters surrounding them.

Jack couldn't help himself. Leon was looking so lost and vulnerable, that there was an urge which cried within him to take the younger man in his arms and fuck him. Just as he had felt hours earlier in the cell when Leon had hung there helpless, Jack could sense his cock surging to life and demanding to be buried in that tight ass. He had many years to make up for and scores of men to catch up with.

The younger man put up no resistance when Jack pulled him into his arms to kiss him. It made Jack wonder if Kennedy had already been 'trained' too well by his earlier captors to allow himself to be fucked. If so, he had his work cut out for him.

However, Jack didn't want Leon to respond just to get him off. For his own pride, Leon had to enjoy this too; enough that he'd eventually want to initiate sexual contact between them.

As he set gently nibbling teeth to the younger man's neck, a barely audible moan let Jack know that he still remembered Leon's erogenous locations quite well. Instinct made him look up to find himself gazing into eyes which were filled with confusion and trepidation for the reaction Jack had pulled from him.

"You haven't enjoyed sex in a long while, have you?" Jack was surprised at how gentle he sounded. Leon had immediately looked away at his words, telling Jack that he hit the nail right on its head.

He placed a hand on Leon's chin to turn his face back, so that they could lock eyes. "I'll tell you again that I'll take good care of you, if you promise not to punch me." Jack gave him a cheeky grin.

"But you left me anyway." The sudden consternation which appeared on Leon's face told Jack the younger man hadn't intended to voice those words.

"I won't this time, Leon." Jack leaned closer to lick and gently nibble at the remembered erogenous spot on Leon's neck, prompting the younger man to arch eagerly against him.

Leon almost surged out of the water when Jack lifted him slightly so that he could worship his nipples. Remembering the multitude of bleeding bite marks which had covered the man's shoulders, chest and neck back at the prison, Jack kept his teeth mostly sheathed and used only his lips and tongue to explore Leon's skin.

He took his time, happy just to indulge his desire to taste and feast upon Leon's skin and fill his ears with the strangled whimpers and moans of the younger man's responses. A light touch of the man's cock gave Jack his added assurance that Leon wasn't just acting, as Jack suspected the man was wont to do to escape a beating from the detention centre guards who'd wanted a responsive lover.

"Jack?"

Looking up into Leon's lust hazy eyes was a mistake. Jack had not felt more like saying to hell with everything and just shoving his prick up the other man's ass than at any other time in his life. But two years wiser and older now, he had better self control.

Back then, Leon was a foremost honey trap agent, and he made no bones about being unfair and exercising his skills on his hapless lovers. The man may have been the bottom in all of his relationships, but there was no question that Kennedy was the dominant lover.

Jack knew that he hadn't been the only one who tried to be an equal lover to Leon S. Kennedy. On the occasions when Jack had more than two brain cells still working for him after a night of sex with the little wildcat, he'd feel the disappointment of having been led around by the nose throughout their sexual romp. Now though, Jack wasn't about to let go of his advantage.

"I can wait, Leon. This is just for you."

The flash of fear mingled with the tiny star of wonder in the younger man's eyes only added to Jack's commitment to overwhelm Leon with pleasure. Jack swore to himself that he would steadfastly ignore his own need for gratification until after he made Leon come at least once. The ex-honey trap agent was not getting a leg up on him ever again.

Jack's lips found Leon's left nipple even as his hands reached to stroke the smaller man's ass and thighs. Leon had stiffened slightly at the touch of his mouth, but when Jack didn't bite him, he began to relax again.

It infuriated Jack to be thus reminded of the previous men who had used Leon as their fuck toy. However, as Wesker had reminded him, he did have his work cut out for him in that it made the younger man particularly sensitive to a gentle hand.

Like a cruelly abused dog, Leon initially flinched with every soft fingered caress Jack graced his skin, as if he was bracing himself to feel pain. Jack pretended he didn't notice as he continued to pat and sooth the skittish man while raining light licks and kisses over his skin.

In a way, Jack was grateful to Leon's captors for 'training' him well. The younger man had remained completely docile when Jack lifted him out of the Jacuzzi and sat him on the tiled floor. Leon's anxious demeanour already made seduction difficult. Jack knew he'd not be very successful if he had to fight the man into submission as well.

Jack moved unhurriedly, lavishing teasing licks, kisses and touches over every erogenous part of Leon he could remember. Prompting the man to ever so slowly relax under his ministrations and learn to trust his actions.

Leon let out a strangled moan when Jack finally reached his cock and laid kisses upon its hardening length. In this, Jack had a lot of inspiration from the memory of the many incredible blow jobs Kennedy gave him in the past.

From the sweet sounds Leon made as Jack deep throated him, the younger man was more than appreciative of his skill at fellatio. However, Jack's light fingered touch at Leon's entrance still made the man flinch and shiver.

Undeterred, Jack continued to suck on Leon's cock to distract him from the intrusion of his bath oil slicked fingers. Even then, Jack deliberately rubbed and nudged against Leon's prostate, mercilessly driving him closer and closer towards orgasm.

"Jack! Wait! I'm-- going to--" Hands had seized his head in a vain attempt to pull him off Leon's cock, but Jack wasn't to be denied.

Leon's howl fairly echoed in the confines of the huge bath as he came down Jack's throat. Jack made sure he sucked down all that Leon's exhausted body could give before he released the younger man's cock and pulled his shivering body back into the warm waters of the Jacuzzi.

Jack cradled Leon in his arms, patting him softly while he twitched from the aftershocks of the powerful orgasm. The absolute control Jack had had over Leon felt glorious; worthy payback for the many times in the past when the little minx would play him like an instrument of pleasure before leaving him alone in bed.

"You-- you swallowed?" The open surprise of Leon's expression put an impossibly smug smile on Jack's face.

"You taste good." Jack smacked his lips suggestively before bending his head closer to kiss Leon and allow him to taste himself on his tongue.

Beneath the waters, Jack intercepted Leon's hand before it could reach his cock; redirecting it to instead clutch Leon's own cock.

"Jack?" Leon panted up at Jack, when he finally let him up for air.

"Later, Leon." Jack rained small kisses over his face. "This is all for you right now. We'll take care of my needs later."

"For me..." Leon's expression seemed to imply he thought the idea an alien concept.

The firm grip of Leon's hand moving his away from the smaller man's cock caused Jack a twinge of worry. "Leon?"

"Just-- hold me a moment-- Jack?" Jack stayed silent as he did as asked. Like it as not to admit it, he revelled in this feeling of strength and power to hold the smaller man in his arms.

They sat unmoving in the warm swirling waters of the Jacuzzi for a long time; Jack cradling Leon in his arms, with Leon's head resting over Jack's chest.

Jack couldn't see Leon's face, but from the slight shaking he could feel of the smaller man's frame, he was guessing that Leon had finally broken down and given in to tears. This was as 'safe' a location as the kid could get to softly cry without it being too noticeable. Jack thought he'd give it till they were ready to turn into a pair of prunes before he suggested they adjourn to the kitchen for something to eat.

A telling growl pre-empted that idea. A soft cough of laughter puffed against his chest moments before Leon turned his blushing face up at Jack.

"I guess food sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?" Jack tried to ask nonchalantly as he valiantly controlled his laughter.

Leon's stomach growled again making the smaller man blush a brighter red.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

The kitchen table had iron manacles attached to its four legs. Jack had gleefully observed Leon's eyes open as wide as saucers when he noticed them.

He knew the other man was practically dying of curiosity to find out why this was so, but until he voiced the question, Jack wasn't going to say a word about it or the other intriguing toys they'd find around the cabin. He was rather looking forward to showing Leon the bedroom with its ceiling mirror and the 'dungeon' accessories which came with the bed.

Wesker claimed to have interesting friends. Privately, Jack thought the cabin really belonged to the man. Still, it blew Jack's mind to think of his boss in such a relationship; if Wesker had indeed been with the late elder Birkin.

He had to wonder what the Birkin girl had thought about her godfather's relationship with her father when she was sent in to stock up the pantry and bathroom. Jack imagined Birkin to have raised an eyebrow or two to notice the well oiled manacles hanging from the ceiling of the shower along with the leg irons secured to the tiled floor. However, from the generous stock of whipped cream, chocolate sauce and honey he had found in the pantry, Jack rather doubted the girl had any problems with the concept. And thinking about it...

Jack surreptitiously cast an assessing glance about the kitchen. He wondered how many cameras Wesker deployed around the cabin. Jack wouldn't put Wesker above monitoring them, or even recording all the action taking place in the cabin.

With his pot of stew done, Jack took it off the gas range and turned towards the silent man he had earlier helped to the table. Rest and the hot waters of the Jacuzzi had done miracles for Leon's ass and legs. While, he was still a touch wobbly, Leon could now, at the least, handle the short walk from the bathroom to the kitchen table with just a hand for assistance.

"Are you sure this is safe to eat?" Leon used a fork to poke thoughtfully at the mouth watering brownish stew Jack ladled into his bowl.

"You're never going to let me forget about the time I used sugar instead of salt, are you?" Jack grumped at him as he took the seat opposite after he helped himself to a bowl and accepted the roll of bread Leon handed him.

"Never." Leon grinned at him as he dipped his bread into the stew and ate it with relish. "I need to check for my taste buds' sake."

Jack growled at him. "If you're so smart why don't you cook our next meal?"

"Aww, Jack? You know I only know how to make desserts." Jack smirked at the double take Leon made as he narrowed his eyes at him from across the table.

Leon's eyes flickered to the large bowl of apples sitting on the counter near the fridge. "You're hoping for apple pie, aren't you?"

"Can you blame me? I haven't had any since two years ago. And we're in another mountain cabin..."

Jack trailed off and lost himself in the memory of a little weekend get away they had escaped to. Where Leon had treated him to home made apple pie and himself; dressed in nothing but a frilly apron with a full can of whipped cream handy. It was the highlight of that entire weekend.

Leon, however, was unfortunately not lost in the same thoughts. "Jack? Was it-- worth it?

"The graft and the-- new abilities, that is..."

Jack frowned thoughtfully at the question as he regarded his left arm while he munched on another piece of bread. "Honestly, it was a pain in the beginning because of the problems. But it's pretty cool once I got used to it."

"So what was with the 'Masters of the Universe' stance?" Leon's head dipped as he steadfastly paid attention to his bowl of stew instead of looking at Jack.

"What?" Jack's jaw dropped at Leon's sudden teasing "It wasn't *anything* like that."

"As if!" Leon smiled shyly as he carefully mopped up the stew in his bowl with a piece of bread. "I was almost expecting Castle Greyskull to appear behind you and a He-Man sound track to start up."

"Now you're exaggerating!" Jack crossed his arms in front of him with a pout.

"It's true! I mean what were you thinking of?" Leon finally looked up and grabbed the half loaf of French bread to strike a dramatic pose with the bread held high overhead. "'Witness the power!'

"I almost started looking around for a cowardly tiger."

"Oi! I wasn't that bad!"

"Was to--!" Jack swooped over the table and caught Leon in a kiss to shut him up.

For those few moments, they forgot everything and it was like their relationship of the past. Their rivalry and teasing was back in full force, as was their attraction and lust.

Leon was as hungry for Jack's kisses as he was for Leon's. And everything was okay again-- until Jack knocked their bowls off the table by almost dragging Leon over it.

They had broken the kiss and stayed locked in each other's eyes for a long time, both unable to turn away. And Jack suddenly realised that there *was* a lot more at stake with this 'assignment' than he originally thought.

They weren't being returned to their friendly argumentative and antagonistic relationship of the past. They weren't going to just be sworn rivals who were passionate fuck buddies on the side anymore.

In his current state, Leon was very fragile. If Jack was any judge, Leon was even worst off now than he had ever been after the botched honey trap mission. Wesker's plans-- Jack was being positioned to be the stability and anchor which Leon unconsciously needed, and thus bind the younger man to their mission and circle.

But a long time ago, Jack essentially 'ran' by volunteering for the BOW program when the relationship between them started to take on serious undertones. Now Wesker had pushed him straight into the deep end...

He didn't want to think of it. Jack pulled Leon the rest of the way over the table and crushed their lips together. The smaller man responded eagerly, parting his lips to let Jack plunder his mouth. This was what they were used to-- this raging lust.

Leon clung to Jack as he picked him up and carried him straight to the bedroom.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

The loud chirp of his communicator tore Jack from the arms of sleep. He blurrily raised his head off his pillow to stare about the room for a long moment, knowing something was very wrong. The chirp of the communicator caught his attention again, and rocked his mind back into synch with the situation.

"Shit! That little fucker!" Jack glared about the empty room angrily for the missing Leon before he grabbed the insistently chirping communicator.

"Krauser." Wesker purred as his face appeared on the small palm sized monitor. "I don't suppose you know where your 'child' is right now?"

Jack groaned as he scrubbed the sleep from his eyes with an impatient hand. "Cut to the chase, Wesker." He frowned to himself as he tried to recall what had happened after he carried Leon into the bedroom. "Damn-- The kid nerve pinched me and bailed."

"He has a four hour head start, if you want to pursue him."

"If?"

Wesker didn't speak immediately, but seemed to study Jack through the screen. "I've wondered if you've been having second thoughts about your assignment."

"Er--"

"If you're not up to it," Wesker continued dismissing Jack's uncertain grunt. "I can have someone else come in to take Kennedy off your hands. This would actually be the best moment to make the switc--"

In that instance, Jack saw red. He suddenly had an image of a faceless stranger receiving the same kind of lust filled kisses he had been sharing with Leon earlier. Another image popped into his mind as well of Leon wearing a lacy apron and nothing else for someone who wasn't him.

For all his earlier objections, Jack realised that he firmly did not want another man to be accorded the rights of receiving Leon's kisses. He did not want anyone else touching Leon's body *ever*.

"No."

"What was that, Kraus--?"

"No." Jack growled at his boss with an expression full of menace. "I have it covered. You *don't* have to send anyone."

Wesker gave him an amused smirk. "No second thoughts?"

"No. Leon. Is. *Mine*."

To Krauser's surprise, Wesker began to laugh. "I should have known better than to bet against a Birkin." The other man shook his head as he took off his sunglasses to rub his eyes. "I just lost $50 to my goddaughter because of you, Krauser.

"I'll be expecting exemplary teamwork out of you and Kennedy when I put you back on active duty in two weeks. See to it I don't regret this decision of yours.

"Now then-- Kennedy has had a four hour head start. I've already dispatched other agents after him." Wesker's lips pulled into a nasty smile. "You may have another opportunity to play the knight in shining armour, Krauser.

Jack's blood suddenly went cold.

"Consider it, Krauser. Kennedy would be so much more tractable if his inadvisable escape led him to be brutally raped. He could hardly blame anyone else but himself for his misfortune."

"Fuck you, Wesker!"

Jack stormed out of the room to head straight for the small garage he hadn't said a word to Leon about. Or he sincerely hoped the younger man hadn't known about. They'd all be in deep shit if he had to hike to the nearest outpost for a vehicle first.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

As it was, Jack barely made it in time. He had tracked Leon down to the nearest city, only to discover the younger man had been about to board a bus when the unit Wesker sent caught up with him. They had in turn taken him to a secluded garage to sample the little morsel who Wesker was so interested in.

Up until he kicked down the door of the parking garage, Jack had intended to only wound Leon's captors. Unfortunately for the five men, he caught them in an unsavoury position around their cowed and resigned prisoner.

While the other men were still mostly dressed, all had zippers down with their cocks in their hands. Leon was amidst them, completely nude and hanging from chains that were wrapped around his arms and waist which left him at a 'convenient' height; with a spreader bar tied between his ankles. Jack had clearly interrupted them at the start of their 'fun' since one man was gripping Leon's head while his cock smeared pre-come over his face, while another stood behind Leon with two fingers up his ass.

While Jack knew the men had been sent by Wesker and were technically his 'own people,' at that moment it hadn't mattered to him in the slightest. Jack had seen red and his guns were blazing before a word of defence or protest could be uttered.

So five men died; their brains and blood splattered over the shivering man whom they had intended to abuse. The fact the men were obviously stopped before they could rape Leon did much to alleviate Jack's desperate anxiety. However, it did not dampen the anger which Jack directed at Leon for knocking him out and running in the first place.

"Jack?" Leon asked cautiously as he twisted in his chains to try and get a look at his rescuer.

"You fucking bastard!" Jack shot at the chains overhead, dropping the startled man to the motor oil stained floor. "What made you think you could just leave?"

Leon barely finished unbuckling the spreader bar from his ankles before Jack reached him to jerk the nude man off the floor and over a shoulder. "You've been a fugitive since I got you out of that hell hole, Kennedy. Your ass is mine!" Jack carried Leon over to one of the smoked glass sedans in the garage and threw him onto the passenger seat.

"Wha--"

"Shut up!" Jack tossed a tarp over him, tucking the edges over Leon's body to hide his nudity before securing the seatbelt around him.

Confronted with Jack's fury, Leon lapsed into silence. The younger man just watched him warily as he climbed into the driver's seat to steer the car out of the garage. Once they were on the highway, Jack called in for a clean up crew to take care of the garage.

The rest of the journey was completed in silence as Jack brought them back to the safe house. Once there, he had slung Leon over his shoulder and carried him up to the cabin and into the bathroom. This time, however, he walked straight to the large shower stall and slammed the smaller man back into one of the wall to wall mirrors.

"Jac--" Leon's attempt at protesting his man-handling was cut off by Jack's snarl.

"You are *filthy*."

Leon froze at his announcement. Jack was too angry to care or think about the impact of his words. He gave little thought to the younger man staying dazed and compliant to his rough handling as he clamped Leon's wrists in the set of manacles which hung overhead, then bent to secure ankle chains which would keep Leon's legs spread.

He started the spray of water over Leon, adjusting the temperature till it was just below scalding and grabbed a wash towel. In sharp contrast to their time in the Jacuzzi, earlier that morning, Jack was very rough as he scrubbed a soapy towel over Leon's skin.

Though Jack had arrived in time to save Leon from rape, in his mind the younger man was still covered in the sweat and stink of other men-- other-- things...

Mendez came to mind as Jack soaped and scrubbed Leon's body. The village chief had been infuriatingly smug when he boasted of seducing the American agent. The man had thought nothing of giving a blow by blow account of Leon's ravishment and conquest.

At that time, Jack had hated Mendez's skill in evocative language. Now, he was remembering the bastard's descriptions of touching and fucking Leon. The man's words cycled through his mind as he stared at Leon's body and their reflections in the mirror, making Jack imagine Mendez's hand prints and lip marks marring Leon's skin.

Jack turned off the water and grabbed the bottle of body shampoo from its hook near the taps and squeezed a generous amount on the still soapy wash cloth. He applied this to Leon's body again, working up a good lather and covering the smaller man's entire body with ocean scented foam. But in his mind Jack could still, see the shadowed impression of other hands on Leon's body.

Saddler sprang immediately to mind, with his graphic tales of preparing Leon to be gang fucked by Novistadors. Jack knelt behind Leon's bound legs to soap them again, scrubbing the man's inner thighs and buttocks with a vengeance; as if he could erase his own memories of witnessing the insect-like mutants holding slim legs invitingly spread for their brethren's approach.

The bottle of body soap was quickly emptied before Jack stood to reach for shampoo for Leon's hair. He efficiently soaped and scrubbed this as well, this time seeing in his mind the detention centre guard who had assaulted Leon's neck and held the younger man's head still with a grip in his hair.

Another image slammed into Jack of Leon's face and cheeks being smeared with come from Novistador and human cocks. The tube of facial soap was the last to be exhausted as Jack carefully scrubbed Leon's face.

White suds coated the tiled floor when Jack turned on the shower. But even as he washed Leon clean, it wasn't good enough for Jack.

Staring at Leon right now reminded Jack of how he had found the younger man chained up in the detention centre less than a day ago; where his body had been covered in bite marks and bruises while his thighs and ass were caked with the wet and crusted come of countless previous users.

Fortunately, Birkin stocked the bathroom well. Jack moved on to a citrus flavoured selection, repeating his obsessive soaping and washing of the docile man's entire body.

In his mind, he could still imagine seeing ghost images of Mendez's hands... Saddler's cock... the claws of the Novistadors... the Plagas infected wolves... the guards...

Too many had had Leon over the last two months... Too many had taken the smaller man against his will and had him writhing on their cocks...

Jack used up the citrus soap, and washing off the suds revealed a body which looked pink; indicative enough that Jack practically removed a couple of layers of skin with his enthusiastic scrubbing. Even so, Jack realised that the washing alone wouldn't erase the trespass of the other men and monsters upon what was his.

In the stark light of the bathroom, Jack could see the real marks now. The faint scars left by human teeth... the larger marks of a wolf's canines where the Alpha Colmillo had held Leon immobile while it fucked him... the tiny cuts of human nails and Novistador claws left on Leon's skin...

Jack snarled as he exited the bathroom and returned with his knife, much to Leon's alarm. "Jac--"

"Shut up!"

Leon wisely did nothing to fight the chains which held him in place. When he reflected on this later, Jack was quite sure that if Leon tried to struggle, in his state of mind he would have carved his initials all over Leon's body. As it was, Jack had carefully and systematically drawn his knife over every scar he could find on Leon's body.

He did not make deep cuts. He only scratched the surface of Leon's skin enough to make him bleed and 'spoil' the pattern of the scars which already existed. In his mind, Jack was claiming every scar on Leon's body. Old or new scars... it did not matter. Jack was disfiguring all of them. He was making his mark *over* the scars.

It took him a while to painstakingly attack every blemish he could find. The end result was that Jack covered Leon's body with dozens of cuts and lesions. The man wasn't bleeding heavily enough for it to be alarming. However, it was sufficient that blood was dribbling down Leon's legs to stain the white tiles of the floor.

Through this all, Leon hadn't dared move. He occasionally released a soft gasp when Jack touched an especially sensitive region, but otherwise he didn't make a sound.

The last mark Jack lovingly traced with his knife was the faint one on Leon's right cheek. Jack was responsible for that particular scar, but he saw little reason not to reinforce its presence.

Making sure he had Leon's attention, Jack announced his accomplishment to him. "All your scars, Leon... all those marks on your body belong to me now.

"And no one else will ever touch you again, Baby." Jack purred as he rubbed a thumb over the cut on Leon's face smearing his cheek with blood. "Only I'm allowed to touch you from now on, do you understand me? Only me, Leon...

"Look at yourself!" Jack stepped aside to allow Leon's gaze to fall upon their reflection in the many mirrors which surrounded them.

His hand smoothed over Leon's skin, lightly smearing the swelling beads of blood over the helpless man's body. "This is all mine from now on."

Jack cut his left wrist to let his blood spurt and mingle with Leon's. "You have my blood oath, baby." He let his blood drip over Leon's body and brought his bleeding wrist up to Leon's face to brush it over the cut on Leon's cheek before his BOW constitution could heal the wound.

"You are *mine*."

Leon shivered as Jack moved in front of him and leaned closer to lick the smear of blood off his cheek. And Jack realised he liked this feeling of power and control over the bound man. He couldn't stop himself from letting his tongue trace the edge of the cut on Leon's cheek.

"J--Jack?"

Leon's trembling voice shook him from his reverie to realise that the man would soon be faint from blood loss if he didn't heal the wounds. He left Leon to return with an airgun which had a chambered vial of green cure-all. A shot took care of the cuts in a jiffy.

The scent of lavender surrounded them as Jack washed away the blood and sweat from Leon's skin. He had calmed down a whole lot now, and this time, he didn't use the whole bottle of body shampoo to wash the smaller man.

Leon's scars were still present, of course, and Jack understood that his efforts had not significantly altered them. However, he knew the intentions behind his obsessive actions would be remembered by both him and Leon. From here on out, what Jack did would come to mind first before either thought of the one who created the scars.

Jack took out towels and dried Leon off, but before he released the chains though, he reached for and uncorked a bottle of moisturising body oil. In contrast to his earlier scrubbing, his hands were now gentle as he spread the sweet oil over Leon's entire body.

He didn't just do the surface of Leon's skin though. Jack's fingers also explored the pucker of Leon's ass and he was soon stretching and preparing the man to be fucked.

The chained man writhed on Jack's fingers as he firmly attacked his prostate. "J--Ja--Jack--"

Jack smiled at the barely suppressed lust in Leon's voice. As soon as he thought the smaller man was sufficiently prepared, he quickly slathered oil over his cock and slowly forced it into Leon's inviting warmth, making the man moan with the intimate stretch.

Jack waited the barest moment for Leon to adjust before he started drawing out and thrusting back into him again. He whispered to Leon with every stroke, filling his ears with words as he filled the smaller man's ass with a hard cock.

"Mine, Baby. You are mine!

"No one else is ever going to touch you ever again, Leon. So get used to this... Get used to *my* cock taking you. *Claiming* you..."

Jack pulled on Leon's responsive cock as he started angling his thrusts to rub firmly on the other man's prostate. "I'm the only one who's ever going to fuck you again, Baby. And do you know why? 'Cause you're *mine*, Baby. *Mine.*"

"J-Ja--"

"Say it." Jack snarled as he started to set nibbling teeth and hot tongue along the edge of Leon's ear. "Say that you're mine, Baby."

"I--" Jack could tell that the man was gritting his teeth as he was inexorably brought closer and closer to orgasm.

"Say it!" Leon's body was now shaking and violently rattling the chains he was secured with as Jack slammed more forcefully into him with every stroke. "Say it, Leon!"

"N--"

Jack suddenly stilled all movement, making the smaller man wail in frustration. "Jack! Damn i--!"

"Say it, or I won't let you come, Baby. I'm part BOW, remember? I have the stamina to keep you on the edge for as long as I want to."

"Nooo-- Jack! Please!"

Jack started his hips rocking again and let his hand continue to stroke Leon's cock in time with his thrusts. "Tell me what I want to hear, Baby."

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

Leon had been stubborn, but Jack didn't expect anything less of him. However, as Jack had reminded him, he couldn't hope to out last a part BOW. Ex-honey trap agent or no, Leon really had no hope of holding out against someone who was familiar with all his tricks, and who had greater stamina.

"Jack! Please!" Leon sobbed as Jack backed off his assault again and pinched his balls to stop him from coming.

"Say it, Baby." Jack told him softly as he kissed and licked Leon's neck, preparing to add yet another hickey to the score which now marked the smaller man's skin. "Tell me what I want to hear."

"Yours." It was said so softly, Jack almost thought it was just his imagination.

"What was that, Baby? Say it again."

"Yours." Jack rewarded him by adding a twist of the hips with the thrust, making Leon arch his back and press his ass more firmly against the bigger man.

"Yours!"

Jack let him have it all. The full works of a delicious build up as he manipulated every erogenous spot he could remember.

Leon fairly howled 'yours' as he finally came. However, Jack ruthlessly pinched himself to kill his own orgasm. He remembered Wesker's coaching. Now was not the time for him to let loose just yet. This was but one of the small victories.

"Jack?" Leon tried to look at him over his shoulder as he drew his still hard cock out of the smaller man's ass.

"I want you in my bed, Baby." Jack told him before he bent to remove the leg shackles.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

The master bedroom was indeed 'fun'. Leon had tried to protest, but Jack ignored him to secure his wrists with the manacles in the headboard. There would be no more sneaky nerve pinches. He had further clamped leg irons to Leon's ankles as well to keep his legs invitingly spread for Jack's entertainment.

Jack had been fucking Leon for hours now. However, he wasn't a least bit tired. Even if he was, one look at Leon's helplessly secured body could get him hard again.

Leon, on the other hand, was exhausted and drifting at the edge of sleep. Jack had made him orgasm twice more before he finally released his seed deep inside the younger man's ass. Leon was too tired to offer any more response than a quiet sigh at the event.

"Who do you belong to, Leon?" Jack panted above Leon as he felt his cock pulsate in its warm cavern.

Jack could barely hold back his smile of triumph when Leon responded automatically. "You, Jack." The words were slurred and whispered. "Belong to you."

As he released Leon's ankle chains and arranged the man's sleep limp body on the bed, Jack decided that it hadn't been a bad twenty-four hours. He had gotten Leon's declaration far sooner than Wesker projected. Now, Jack just needed to reinforce it and make Leon accept the statement with his whole heart and soul.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

It was a familiar way to wake up. Skin to skin with Jack spooned against his back; arms wrapped possessively around his waist and the bigger man's morning wood pressed between his thighs.

Leon knew that he could get used to this. It was certainly a more pleasant way to wake up as compared to his experience of the last few months. Leon hadn't even really minded having his wrists manacled overhead those first few nights at the cabin.

He turned his head slightly to look at their reflection in the ceiling mirror. Leon couldn't help but observe that their bodies appeared to mould so perfectly with each other. So-- unlike the image of Bitores Mendez and him, what felt like an eternity ago.

He had been like a toy in Mendez's arms. Saddler had thought nothing of letting his Novistadors use him as a come receptacle for entertainment. The guards at the detention centre-- In the last few months, many had treated him as just a fuck toy.

But with Jack? It was-- different... Jack hadn't wanted a docile sex slave. Throughout Leon's physical therapy, Jack kept pushing him and demanding for Leon to respond with the same fire and energy as he did in the past.

Jack never allowed Leon to retreat into silent apathy or docile subservience. He-- he wanted Leon to be his equal. However, it was a significant difference at night since he refused to let Leon choose to sleep alone.

Every night since their arrival at the cabin, Leon could count on Jack to take him to bed and hold him possessively. More often than not, Jack would fuck him senseless before they settled down to sleep. Leon had no say in his sleeping arrangements. Yet-- he still found this strangely comforting.

Ultimately, despite their clash in the Plagas infested village months ago, Leon had to acknowledge that he felt safe with the older man. Having Jack protectively close had also done a lot to chase away his nightmares.

When he thought of it though, it felt incongruous to Leon that he never had nightmares of Jack. At the detention centre, Jack *had* raped him while he hung from his chains like a sack of dead meat. Since his rescue, their many sexual encounters were technically non-consensual too since Leon had never been allowed an opportunity to refuse. It seemed-- wrong that he'd still find himself so comfortable with Jack.

However, as much as he would like to deny it, Leon felt a great deal of security to be in Jack's company. A lot of times when the nightmares hounded him awake, Jack's solid presence was like a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. Sometimes he'd even wake up to feel Jack gently smoothing a hand over his back or petting his hair and crooning soft sounds of comfort to him.

It surprised Leon to realise the bloody 'incident' in the shower hadn't made him afraid of the bigger man. The madness in Jack's eyes had frightened him. However, it wasn't because Leon had feared for his life or thought Jack was going to maim him. It was Jack's possessiveness which scared him.

Until the shower 'incident', he hadn't realised the strength of Jack's obsession over him. Leon knew that the older man's declaration of 'ownership' had come from his heart and soul.

The claim had initially infuriated Leon. He was no one's property. However, over the past week, Jack had firmly demonstrated his commitment to 'keeping' Leon as 'his' *exclusively.* And to be honest about it, Leon didn't think it to be a hardship to have Jack waiting on him hand and foot and fussing over him like a mother hen whenever he wasn't in top form. It wasn't as if Jack was treading very harshly on Leon's independent streak either.

The physical stresses of the last few months had taken their toll and Leon still wasn't completely steady on his legs. It was one of the reasons why he had been captured so easily by the government agents after he 'escaped' from Jack. He also forgot his status as a government fugitive.

It had taken everything out of him to get to the bus station. When the government hunters came upon him, Leon hadn't the strength to run, much less attempt to fight.

To Leon, it was without a doubt that Jack's expert care did much to quickly restore him to fighting form. Jack gave excellent massages. And he offered this to Leon freely without ever asking for any favour in return. Then there were the weapons and gear which Jack now left openly within his reach...

That first time when he realised Jack wasn't monitoring him, Leon had briefly considered running again. However, he'd remember Jack's rescue with the bloody 'incident' which followed, and immediately discard those plans.

A week later, thoughts of Jack's obsessive behaviour in tracing *all* his scars with a knife still made Leon shiver. He didn't feel the slightest desire to test the limits of Jack's patience.

In a strict sense, Leon knew he should be feeling like a prisoner. After all, it wasn't his choice to stay at the cabin with Jack. And he hadn't been given any say regarding their almost nightly romp between the sheets before sleep.

However, to be fair, it wasn't as if Jack was a selfish lover. The man always made sure Leon was never disappointed with the sex. Jack hadn't exactly made unreasonable demands on him since he started to let him sleep unrestrained either.

At the end of the day, Leon wasn't sure what he should be feeling. On the one hand, he was technically Jack's captive. On the other-- Jack *did* rescue him from two bad situations. And ultimately-- Leon *was* comfortable with Jack. He could actually see them growing old together (if they lived that long.)

As far as he could tell, Jack appeared serious about the declared claim on his life. And he wanted and was patiently waiting for Leon to return his commitment.

This knowledge gave Leon a secret thrill. It-- was apparently the only area in his current situation which he had control of and where he had a choice. However, he also knew there was only one choice which Jack would accept.

Could he return Jack's commitment? Did he want to?

The crux of the matter was-- Leon felt safe and enjoyed his time with Jack. He just wasn't sure he was ready to give Jack the commitment he demanded. It wasn't a hardship to have mind numbingly good sex regularly. However, there was this heavy weight attached to this luxury...

A tingle of warm pleasure ran down his spine as he felt a wet tongue gently lick his neck, pulling him from his reverie. "Morning," was murmured against Leon's nape as Jack deployed clever hands and nibbling teeth to his skin.

Leon's body reacted automatically to the pleasant stimulus making him push back and grind his ass against Jack's eager cock. A brief adjustment was all that was needed for Jack to reposition their bodies and slowly press his cock into Leon's ass.

Leon moaned with pleasure as he assisted Jack with his impalement. This was a much better way to wake up then having his head swimming in circles.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

Jack was feeling worried. The two weeks which Wesker had given them were almost up and he still hadn't the faintest clue as to what Leon would say about working with him under the new Umbrella Corp.

Over the last couple of weeks, he had nurtured Leon's abused body back into top fighting form. Jack had even reequipped Leon with a set of personal arms which the man had free access to. And presently, Leon was capable of going one on one with him in a knife spar again.

Jack had given Leon every opportunity to attempt to run. Wesker had impressed upon him the necessity to let Leon try, and the need to quickly recapture the man to enforce their authority. However, after that first botched flight, Leon hadn't made a single attempt to escape.

This morning, Jack was out in the backyard sawing firewood with a chainsaw; leaving Leon alone in the cabin, with the keys to the jeep hanging prominently in the kitchen. He wouldn't have heard the sound of the jeep's engine over the noise generated by the chainsaw. This was the most blatant opportunity Jack had given Leon to sneak away yet.

Jack stared at the pile of wood chips he had made remorsefully. Now that Leon was well again, he wondered how far the younger man would get before someone caught up with him. Wesker had only given Jack two weeks. If he still failed to 'tame' the younger man's spirit, he was off the case. And Jack wondered if he could really stand by and let Wesker send in another party to break and then rebuild the younger man to their designs.

He contemplated what Wesker would say if he went after Leon against expressed orders... And he wondered if he could kill Leon-- to save the younger man from suffering further on Wesker's directions-- and because he didn't want Leon to 'belong' to anyone else but him.

Unexpectedly, a mouth-watering aroma drifted through the air. Turning towards the cabin, Jack spotted the unmistakable sight of an apple pie cooling at the kitchen window.

"Leon?" Jack put the chainsaw away and strode towards the cabin with hope lighting his heart.

The door to the cabin crashed open as Jack blew in. The man in question was leaning against the kitchen table and nibbling on a slice of apple. He wore an apron with the words 'Kiss the Cook' across the chest and nothing else but his smile.

"So-- can you read?" Given how suggestively Leon was tapping the words on his apron, Jack smilingly obeyed the implied request and swept the smaller man into a breath stealing kiss.

They stayed like that, lip locked and comfortably entwined for a long moment. But a niggling worry made Jack break the kiss to look into Leon's lust hazy eyes.

"Leon, are--"

A finger against his lips stopped Jack from saying more. "What if I-- if I have the same demands of you?"

Jack took Leon's hand in his to lay kisses on his fingers. "I wouldn't ask you for more than I'm willing to give, Leon." There was bare naked hope in Jack's words. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Yes, I am." Leon reached behind him to grab something which he placed in Jack's hand. Looking down, Jack discovered it to be a can of whipped cream.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

It had been the perfect end to a couple of idyllic weeks in a comfortable mountain cabin. After Leon gave Jack his commitment in the kitchen, they had spent the rest of the day eating apple pie and making love in various rooms of the cabin.

It wasn't just 'fucking' any more. It was *making love*. And Jack's heart was near bursting with joy for his good fortune.

There was, however, one awkward bump in the situation. Something which arose with a small statement Leon made as they lay snuggled together on the bed, dozing contentedly after several hours of sweaty, satisfying sex.

"Jack-- I-- I still don't trust Wesker." He didn't know how to respond to Leon's murmured words.

There was no question that they were due at Umbrella Corp in a couple of days. Leon had given Jack his promise to go with him. But his announcement now...

"I *will* follow you to the ends of the earth, Jack." Leon looked up at him earnestly. "But-- if-- if you had to decide between him and me..."

Jack kissed Leon rather than answer. However, in that kiss, they understood who he'd choose.

Commitment was a double edged sword. And Jack knew he made his choice the night he took a knife to Leon's scars to claim the man.

Fuck Wesker if the man ever tried to mess with them.

..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..~~..

Wesker sighed as he drummed his fingers on his armrest before ending the transmission from the bedroom. He had to take his hat off to Kennedy. It was a game well played.

While it was undeniable that Krauser succeeded in tying Kennedy to him, the tables were turned as well. Krauser was now 'compromised' as a loyal agent.

At the least, the pair was forged as a formidable unit, so Umbrella could reap the rewards of their team work on missions. However, Wesker knew he had to watch how he disseminated information to them in the future.

Where Krauser was likely to accept anything he was given at face value, Kennedy had a more suspicious nature. Managing them was going to be a challenge which Wesker realised he was looking forward to. It actually created a spark of excitement in him.

"Very well done, Mr. Kennedy, it is now love all." Wesker smiled to himself for the double meaning in the statement. "Let us see how you do with stage two of our games."

~Owari~

§ Bergamot and Citrus (lime, lemon & orange,) recommended aromatherapy for depression

Thanks for reading.

firewolf

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