Work Text:
You Can't Win 'Em All
“Alright, guys,” Coach Barry’s voice practically boomed around the locker room as he clasped his hands down onto Leon’s shoulders. “I know this is the second time you’re all doing this, but I’ve been told to remind you all that Kennedy, despite being captain of the swim team already, is still new here.” Normally kind brown eyes stared straight at Wesker and Krauser with a glare, “so at least try to go easy on him.”
A round of huffs and eye rolls met the coach’s words, and Leon barely held back the shudder that wracked him when he thought of the last time he had to do this.
“There’s also condoms here for a reason, use them.” He said sternly, “and for god's sake don’t tie Kennedy up with his own clothes and leave him in one of the lockers this time, Krauser, by time I managed to get back here and let him out the poor kid was practically an icicle.”
With that Coach Barry gave Leon a little shove forward, careful to avoid knocking into the cast that covered his right arm, and fled the locker room like a bat out of hell. Leon couldn’t really blame him, he wanted to bolt out of the room too.
Leon didn’t even have a chance to stumble or say anything before Wesker and Krauser were on him like a pack of hungry dogs on a bone. One set of rough football callused hands grabbed at his upper arms to keep him still while Krauser grabbed at his collar and tore his shirt away like it was flimsier than paper. The cold air of the locker room prickled against his skin, making him shiver from more than just fear.
A yelp was startled out of him as Krauser stepped behind him, shoving one hand down the back of his gym shorts and grabbing a fist full of the speedo he hadn’t gotten the chance to change out of after sitting on the sidelines at swim practice. The slightly damp fabric made itself known, painfully slipping between his asscheeks like it belonged there. His gym shorts were tugged down too, leaving him almost completely naked and hoisted up in the air like some kind of trophy.
“If I had known a broken arm was all it took to get round two started I would’ve broken it ages ago.” Krauser’s deep voice rumbled against his ear. His huge hands groped Leon’s suddenly exposed ass like it was putty.
Wesker snorted from across the room where he had moved to rummage around in his locker. “The swim team was worthless before he took the captain’s spot, it was bound to still be worthless now that he can’t participate in the meets.” When he turned away from his locker he had a roll of duct tape and, even more alarmingly, several lengths of ropes held in his hands, “Now, are you going to cooperate this time, or do we need to tie you up again?”
“But Coach Burton said -”
“Oooh, Coach Burton said,” Krauser’s voice was full of disdain, rising up a few octaves as he openly mocked the other captain before breaking off into a growl, “Nobody gives a fuck what Coach Burton says, Nivans.” He bounced Leon roughly by his speedo, tugging it almost up to his shoulders and then letting him drop to the ground with a cruel laugh, “And unless you wanna join Kennedy in the losers club, shut up.”
“At least I’m not a ‘roided up asshole who still uses high school bully tactics,” Leon muttered under his breath. “Seriously, a wedgie? What’s next, a swirlie?”
There was a tense moment of complete silence.
All five of the locker room’s occupants just stared at each other.
Leon probably should have seen the hit coming, but he didn’t.
Instead he was completely blindsided when Krauser’s fist connected with his cheekbone. The hit sent him lurching backwards, his side slamming into one of the benches with a loud thump.
“Hey, you can’t do that!”
“Krauser, knock it the fuck off!”
Krauser glared at the two brunet captains that had moved towards him, fisting his hand in Leon’s hair at the sound of their protest. Without looking away from the two of them he reeled his arm back and delivered a resounding open palmed slap to Leon’s face, hard enough to rattle the bones in his jaw and split his lower lip open.
When Chris and Piers just stared at him in shock, he pulled back and did it again.
And again.
And again, until after the fourth strike, while Leon was desperately trying to claw at the hand in his hair, his wrist was grabbed.
Wesker’s shrewd gaze met his glaring one, “Now, now, Krauser, we aren’t here to beat Kennedy black and blue, one hit was already too much.” The other blond said haughtily, “and I’m sure if you put that dull mind of yours to work for once, you’ll remember what I have planned for the night.” He released Krauser’s wrist at the same time that Krauser released his grip on Leon’s hair and let him drop back to the ground.
He rolled his eyes at the dig towards his intelligence. Rather than honing in on that, and picking a fight he might not win, he turned back to Kennedy and gave him a swift kick to the side to knock him all the way to the floor.
Leon wheezed as he hit the ground, his vision blurring as he stupidly tried to catch himself with his bad arm and light flashed behind his lids. He didn’t even get the chance for his vision to come back before Krauser was on him again. One knee planted firmly on his back while he grabbed ahold of Leon’s speedo, twisting the fabric harshly and then yanking it halfway up his back.
The stitches cracked, snapping under the pressure almost immediately, but relief didn’t come to him. The fabric burned as it sawed its way back into his ass crack, and the leg holes dug even more painfully into his balls as it was wrenched up higher and higher.
More stitches popped. His legs lashed out behind him, trying to land a kick anywhere on Krauser but the older blond just shifted out of the way, moving his knee further up his back to grind his face into the ground. The hand that wasn’t tugging on his speedo grabbed a hold of his knee, taking away what little leverage he had.
His knee was pulled to the side, spreading his legs open, allowing the wedgie to dig in even deeper as most of his lower body weight was held up solely by the thin strip of fabric in Krauser’s hand. The additional weight seemed to be enough to finally make the rest of the stitches give and Leon nearly whined in relief.
A loud rip echoed through the locker room and pain jolted through his left knee as he was dropped to the ground yet again but it was nothing compared to the searing ache in his ass and balls. The slippery fabric pulled away from his body, dangling from Krauser’s hand like a bright red flag.
His hands flew to cover up his crotch as soon as it sunk in that he was completely naked without his speedo. Wesker stepped in front of him, his phone in hand and Leon was nearly blinded by the flash from his camera.
He yelped, a protest already on his lips when he realized that Wesker had probably been taking pictures of him this whole time, but before he could say anything, Wesker reached down to grab a hold of his bad arm and yank it away from his lap.
The camera clicked again, several rapid fire pictures being taken, the quick flashes leaving little black sparks dancing in his eyes. In the time it took for the flash to fade from his vision, a large presence had knelt in front of him on the floor before a thumb ran along his jaw. He blinked his eyes to see that the older captain was closer.
Much, much closer.
He was crouched down right in front of him, barely half a foot away.
“Open your mouth.”
Leon recoiled at the order, the fear from before fading swiftly in the face of indignation. “Fuck you.” He spat.
Krauser snorted somewhere behind him. “...He sure talks big for a bitch on his knees, huh.”
His head got halfway through whirling around, a sharp retort already half off his tongue when Wesker’s hand was back on his face again. This time though, he bypassed the gentle thumb entirely, grabbing a hold of Leon’s jaw with a rough grip instead and wrenching his face closer towards him until he felt the man’s hot breath washing over his cheek.
Wesker’s grin spread a little too wide, with a little too much teeth as he was forced to stare up at him.
“I’m going to tell you exactly what you’re going to do tonight.” Wesker leaned in close, like they were about to share some kind of secret, and a flat palm stroked along his bare leg, dipping towards the inside of his thigh and kneading the flesh there almost lovingly. His thumb drew strangely calming circles along his skin, creeping slowly inwards towards his fully exposed...well. Leon shuddered and jerked away, but Wesker’s blunt nails dug into his thigh and held him in place. “You’re going to open your pretty little mouth and you’re going to be a good boy about it.” The smirk on his face turned absolutely feral, “If you don’t...well, I’d hate to see how quickly your reputation will be tarnished if those pictures of you find their way into the emails of all our fellow students. Maybe they’ll even get sent out to a few of our professors.”
His voice was confusingly teasing as he threatened him, and the hand on his jaw gave him one last tender stroke before sliding down to the back of his neck. “Now, are you going to be a good boy for us or do you want to insist on being a petulant brat?”
Leon cringed at the threat. He would be absolutely screwed if those pictures got out. His scholarship would no doubt be gone as soon as the finance office got wind of anything untoward happening involving him, especially with it being on school grounds, and the locker room wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. But Wesker wouldn’t really send those pictures, would he?
It wasn’t just Leon in them, he had to have gotten a glimpse of the others in there as well, and there's no way he’d risk all of them getting in trouble for this, right? But he really couldn’t take that chance. Wesker wasn’t one to be messed around with. Hell, he’d only been at the college for barely two months and he’d already heard dozens of rumors about Wesker fucking over people he felt went against him.
Leon bit back a whine that betrayed the furious glare on his face, “I’ll be good,” he croaked out finally. The hand on the back of his neck shifted away, Wesker’s pleased hum vibrating through him as he traced up over the exposed line of his throat like he was readying him for dissection.
He thumbed at Leon's bottom lip.
The touch stung, his lip split and starting to bruise from where Leon had bitten it while he was being slapped. Leon tensed up in confusion when the digit forced its way into his mouth, ghosting past the edge of his teeth, until the wide, calloused pad stopped to stroke against the top of his tongue. "Suck,” Wesker ordered. “Show me what you can do with that pretty mouth.” If humiliation could have killed him, those words would have done it. He felt inexorably disgusting but he still wrapped his lips around his thumb.
Saliva pooled in the corners of his mouth and the urge to gag hit him strong. Reluctantly he let his tongue curl around the blond's finger, drawing it in as he did as he was told and sucked that finger deeper into his mouth. He wasn't sure when his eyes had closed, but when he opened them, satisfaction was clear as day on Wesker’s smug face.
“Very good.” Wesker withdrew his thumb and patted Leon on the side of his face like he was some pup he was training. “I'm going to enjoy seeing you choke on me.”
Leon didn’t even get a moment to truly register what the older captain had said before he was reaching into the open fly of his pants and pulling out his cock. It was just as massive as it had been the first time Leon had been forced into this ‘tradition’ and it wasn’t any less scary of a sight the second time around.
Wesker made a low, satisfied sound as he took the head of his cock into his mouth.
He flushed at the noise, once more wishing to melt into the ground as he struggled to maintain eye contact. His cock was brutishly wide and Leon barely avoided scraping his teeth along the flesh as his jaw was forced open around it. He shifted his tongue around its girth, choking as it pushed even further past his lips. He was pretty sure he could feel the head knocking against the edge of his soft palate, the bluntness of the glans bumping over the ridges of his mouth before finally slipping down into his throat. The muscles of his esophagus convulsed around the intrusion, trying to get it out all the while Wesker forced his way deeper and deeper. Leon’s body practically seized with the urge to choke. He gave into the feeling within seconds, gagging hard, jerking under Wesker once in an uncontrollable spasm.
Wesker grinned down at him.
The other blond’s cock continued to rub cruelly over his tongue as he fucked his face, the way he pounded bruises into the back of his throat completely distracting him from Krauser’s lubed hand moving down the crack of his ass until it reached his hole and a finger stuffed itself inside of him. He tried to pull back, tried to ask Krauser what the hell he thought he was doing, but Wesker kept him firmly in place with one hand on the back of his neck and the other in his hair, forcing him to keep his head still while he thrust as far down his throat as he could.
Thankfully he wasn’t the only one that seemed thrown by the sudden change in boundaries.
Piers had stepped closer at some point, his eyes strenuously not looking at where Leon was being forced to give the world’s roughest blowjob as he held a hand up like he was waiting to get called on in class. “Um, I thought this thing was about the losing captain giving the rest of us blowjobs and then that’s it. I - I’m pretty sure there wasn’t anything in the rules about having actual sex with him.”
"There was a unanimous vote in changing the rules from just blowjobs to whatever the winning captains would like.”
“Unanimous?” Chris shouted incredulously, “I didn’t vote for anything like that and I know Kennedy sure as hell didn’t.”
“Yeah, I didn't vote on anything, either.”
Krauser rolled his eyes, not once stopping the pumping movement of his fingers in and out of Leon’s ass, “Of course Kennedy didn’t vote. He’s the fucking loser, he doesn’t get a vote.” His free hand gripped Leon’s ass cheek, pawing at it hard enough that Leon was pretty sure he was going to have hand shaped bruises for at least a week, “Kennedy is going to keep his stupid little mouth shut unless it’s either stuffed full of cock or begging for more.”
“That still only makes it two votes against two!”
“Both of you were late to the captain’s meeting on Wednesday,” Wesker said simply, “We discussed our change of plans and cast our votes as the first thing on our agenda. As such, you two forfeited your votes.”
“That’s fucking bullshit, Wesker!”
“No, it’s politics, Christopher.”
A second finger entered Leon’s hole alongside the first, making him whine around the cock in his throat and completely lose track of the conversation going on around him, too distracted by the drool dripping out of the sides of his mouth and not choking on it.
Krauser’s voice was a low rumble in Leon’s ear as he leaned in close to his ear and said, “Look at you, so good at sucking cock. You want another one, don’t you?” Leon tried to shake his head but he was barely able to breathe let alone speak around the dick in his mouth. “You want my cock in your ass?”
Wesker was gracious enough to let him pull back just enough to gasp out a weak little, “S-Stop,” before his mouth was brutally filled again.
“Stop? We’re only getting started,” Krauser huffed, digging and curling his finger until Leon jerked, his face flushing with shame at the sudden, unintentional moan he let out.
Shit. His cheeks started to burn up when his cock got hard almost right away, despite the terrible situation he was in. He cried out in shame and distress when the wrestling captain’s other hand moved from his ass to squeeze his pecs like they were a pair of breasts.
“Wait, he said stop!”
“Nivans. Sit down, join in, or leave.” Wesker said coolly, one perfect eyebrow arched menacingly. “Though, before you choose, I would like to remind you that I have video of the two of you watching Krauser slap poor Leon around. And conveniently that video starts after you protested him punching Leon.”
Krauser chuckled against his back as Piers’s mouth snapped shut and he sat down hard on one of the benches on the other side of the locker room. When Chris reluctantly sat down next to him, Krauser pulled his fingers out and something even thicker rested against his ass.
He froze. If Wesker’s cock felt huge in his mouth, Krauser felt colossal against his ass.
“Let’s try again. You want my cock inside you?” He pressed the tip against Leon’s hole. “Answer me, little whore.”
Wesker’s hand threaded into his hair again, pulling him back up and off his cock with a slick noise so he could talk.
“No, please, please don’t, plea—” Leon’s raspy cry turned into keening as Krauser pushed against him even harder, the tip of his dick pressing in and stretching his rim. Just the head was already enough to make his hole burn-
“Don’t forget the condom.”
Krauser growled as a little square of foil smacked into his cheek, startling him into pulling away from Leon’s tight little ass. He glared up at the smug look on Wesker’s face, the older blond’s arm still outstretched from the motion of his throw. “You’re already fucking his mouth without one, why the fuck do I need to use one.”
“I have plans.”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem, Wesker.”
He and Wesker stared each other down, both of them ignoring Leon squirming between them, his good hand scrabbling desperately at Wesker’s thigh. Then, without breaking eye contact, Wesker lunged forward, fisting the hand not keeping Leon in place into Krauser’s short hair and twisting it painfully.
The football captain sneered down at him, “Let’s not forget who orchestrated this little event, Krauser, do what I say or perhaps I’ll make good on your earlier threat to Kennedy and break your arm, if not worse.”
Krauser didn’t bother answering. He grabbed the condom packet, lifted it to his mouth to tear it open with his teeth and rolled it onto his hard cock, holding back a grumble when Wesker settled back into his previous position across from him. Leon let out a little squeak of fear around his mouthful when Krauser shifted, his cock prodding at his rim again before slipping in, stretching him so wide it felt like he was going to split open and Krauser didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down as he filled Leon up until his ass was flush with the other blond’s hips. He wailed when the man pulled halfway out and snapped his hips forward, driving into him with so much force that his knees scraped across the tiles.
Wesker chose that moment to clamp down on the back of Leon's neck, forcing him down further, until the thick wiry hair of his pubes brushed against his nose, his cock resting in the back of his throat like it belonged there for a moment before he started moving in earnest.
At some point, Leon tried to bite down, he wasn’t quite sure why, whether it was some worthless attempt to prove he wasn’t just laying down and accepting what they were doing to him or maybe it was an actual attempt to get them to stop. Either way, the biting didn’t seem to deter Wesker at all, if anything it only spurred him on further.
And there wasn’t much he could do to try and fight off Krauser. Even if the wrestling captain had been in a position where Leon could reach him, one of his arms was stuck in a cast and useless. Fighting back against him now would be pointless.
So he stopped fighting. Minutes pass and Leon feels himself slumping between the two of them, his eyes squeezing shut hard to try and stave off tears. He can feel himself shuddering again, caught up in the violent jerking back and forth of his body.
Against his will, sparks start to gather persistently in his gut, building up into a hot, molten slew in the pit of his twisting stomach.
It was so messed up.
He can’t even concentrate on how much he doesn’t want this when his thoughts are starting to fill with the need for more, more, more. Maybe he could blame it on Wesker’s cock cutting off his oxygen and making him lightheaded and loopy but all too suddenly, he’s dancing along the edge, thrumming with the feeling, his whole body trembling and far too hot to think properly.
‘Not again,’ Leon dazedly thinks, his eyes crossing, his thoughts drifting back to the first time he had been forced into the locker room by Coach Burton, to how he had gotten hard then too when Wesker had forced his dick into his mouth. ‘Why is this happening again?’ He can’t seriously be enjoying this sort of thing. His body can’t be wired to betray him like this, he couldn’t enjoy being used and fucked like some kind of sex toy and yet he could still feel an orgasm beginning to shiver through his veins.
Sure enough, though, his vision starts to go white behind his eyelids, a tremor pulsing through him in time with his heartbeat as Krauser’s hips start to snap forward faster behind him, his animalistic grunts echoing off of the tiled walls and the inside of Leon’s mind. He gags again as Wesker pushes deep into his throat and holds him there.
Something inside him lurches. His stomach flips, and that feeling sears through him so sharply that all the breath inside him is robbed from his lungs.
The tears clinging to his lashes finally fall, leaving scalding trails down his cheeks.
“That's it. Cry for me, sweetheart.” Wesker breathes out.
Leon comes just before Wesker does, so hard and for so long he feels like he’ll pass out if it dares to last another second more, and then he’s just barely able to hiccup in a sharp gasp of bitter ecstasy before his mouth is flooded. It all spills down his chin with the rest of the mess still foaming up from his lips, just another fluid joining the others, his jaw, neck, his chest all completely soaked with cum and drool.
Krauser isn’t far behind.
The heat of him spilling inside of Leon is palpable even through the condom, but the weight of his body practically collapsing on top of Leon's back is even worse. A tap of two fingers on the hollow of his cheek has his mouth lolling open uselessly, Wesker’s cock slipping out along with another little gush of cum.
Krauser pulled out of him with a grunt. “Who’s fucking him next?” He looked at the two captains still sitting on the bench, “One of you taking a turn before Wesker ruins him?”
“I’m not going to ruin him.”
A huff answered him, “He barely sucked your dick and he’s already half brain dead. Redfield, you actually gonna get your dick wet this time or are you too chickenshit to pull your dick out in front of the rest of us.”
The room dropped into silence, both Krauser and Wesker waiting to hear whatever retort Chris was going to give, but none came. Chris just stayed on the bench, his arms crossed and his eyes stubbornly looking at the ceiling.
Eventually, when Chris still refused to take the bait after a couple more hurled insults to his manhood, Krauser finally shrugged, “Fine, your loss, his ass is gonna be wrecked.”
Leon was still lost in a daze as Krauser pushed off his back, forcing him forward and grinding his face down into the tile as he got up. He was only just starting to come back to himself when he noticed Wesker had moved off to the side of him, removing and folding his black slacks before setting them on one of the benches alongside his shirt, and then pulling off his boxers without a care in the world for modesty.
Not that he had much to worry about anyway.
Even if Leon hadn't been into guys, he still would have appreciated the sight that Wesker made standing next to him.
The man looked like a statue cut from marble.
Long legs, thick muscular thighs, broad shoulders and abs that you could probably grate cheese on. And that wasn’t even mentioning the absolute monster of a dick that laid between his boxy hips, still half hard despite just fucking Leon’s mouth. He was pretty sure that was the type of dick that was only ever seen on pornstars.
If it weren’t for the fact that he had been blackmailed into this, Leon would have happily sucked that dick, and maybe he would have been a bit reluctant given the sheer size of the thing, but he’d probably have let Wesker fuck him willingly too.
The thought of the blackmail caused his gut to twist painfully. If they really wanted to fuck him so badly, why couldn’t they have just asked? It wasn’t like any of the other captains were unattractive, and his sexuality wasn’t exactly some big secret, half his damn team was gay. He might’ve refused Krauser on account of him being an absolute douchebag, but he wouldn’t have minded having a one night stand or even something more with one of the others.
Yet, instead of pleasure curling low in his gut when Wesker dropped to his knees behind him, one huge hand coming up to caress over the muscled planes of his shoulders, it was annoyance and indignation.
“Krauser.” Wesker snapped out as he rolled a condom onto his cock, his free hand still petting up and down Leon’s back, “Get your camera out.”
“What is this,” Leon snarked before he could think better of it, “an amateur porn shoot?”
“Nothing I do is amateur.” Wesker bit back.
He was known for being petulant on the best of days, and today was not one of those days. Whenever he saw a chance to be petty he took it. “I don’t know, you were pretty mediocre when you were fucking my face. I’ve seen better on PornHu-.” Leon nearly swallowed his own tongue as Wesker draped himself over his back and thrust into him all the way to the hilt.
Hot breath fanned over the side of his face, Wesker pulling back just enough to slam his hips back into him. “You know, I was going to be gentle with you, Leon,” He breathed against his ear, “But since you’ve decided to be a brat, I think I’ll teach you a little lesson first.”
His hips moved like a jackhammer, roughly fucking Leon for all he was worth, pounding up against his prostate with a bruising force and Leon could scarcely breathe for how much he was shouting, lungs heaving, every muscle tensing, toes flaring as the sensations started to overwhelm him. Rough sex wasn’t his thing, but fuck it, it was actually starting to feel good, and for a second he finds himself trying to push his hips back for more.
His hands scrambled for purchase against the tile, each powerful thrust sending his knees skidding up against the cold floor. Wesker’s hand grabbed his chin, jerking his head up and from this angle, he was forced to see Krauser’s predatory eyes roving over his exposed body from behind his phone on the other side of the room. He raised his bad hand to try to cover his moaning face, but Wesker just swatted it away and fucked him deeper until the swimmer’s eyes started to roll in his head.
The pace was absolutely punishing. Slick, obscene noises echoed around them.
"Wesker, ah!" Leon cried out, his legs slipping open even further while his voice filled the room with the sounds of his begruding pleasure. He gasped, he sobbed, and he moaned so deeply when Wesker shifted, angling himself so he could somehow slam into him even harder. "Fuu-ck," He squeaked, his voice rising an octave and his cock twitching. "I need.... I, I need..."
“Ah, ah!” The footballer clucked his tongue like a disapproving mother, and Leon couldn’t help but sob when he pulled out, his hole clenching around nothing but thin air. “This is supposed to be a lesson about being nice. ‘I need, I need’, why don’t you ask, Leon.” The man started languidly rubbing his length across Leon’s hole while he talked, the tip brushing up against his slick rim with every slow and torturous drag. Leon wanted to cry out in frustration, but he had to focus on trying to keep his mind from melting away right there and then as his brain narrowed down to just Wesker and the drive to chase his own orgasm.
Wesker leaned over him again, tracing the shell of his ear with his tongue, nipping at his lobe harshly and tugging. “Beg me to fuck you.”
He bit his lip, his normal witty remarks lost somewhere under the pulsing need. His brain already going around and around in circles about how it felt so good and begging for more.
But he didn’t want this, not like this, he didn’t want Wesker to fuck him like this and he definitely didn’t want to beg Wesker to put his dick back inside of him. He wasn’t some cock slut.
He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t beg for it.
“I’m not going to beg.” Leon tried to say. To his horror, he found that the words didn’t come; what came out instead was a horrid breathy whine.
The other blond’s eyes roved over Leon, and his expression became more amused, and more cunning, with every second that they stared at each other, until it finally melted into something devious and heart stopping.
Then Wesker shifted away from him, and grabbed Leon by the ankle, pulling his legs out from under him, sending him down flat onto the floor. Leon couldn’t resist the pull; not just because of his broken arm, or out of surprise, but because of the hunger. It tore through his body like an active agony, making an undignified noise pop out of his mouth, something small, and soft, like something a wounded animal might make.
Wesker’s fingers wrapped around his ankle felt hotter than human flesh, it felt scalding against his skin.
His body resisted his desire to struggle free. Deep, painful shivers raced up and down his spine, making his arms tense up.
Wesker chuckled, letting his gaze drag along Leon’s flushed body, stained with cum, blood and a light peppering of bruises, before he stared directly into his eyes. “Beg me to fuck you.” Still holding Leon’s ankle in one hand, he ran the nails of his free hand slowly up the bottom of his foot, watching enraptured as the sensitive appendage spasmed.
This time, the shudder that raced up Leon’s spine felt good.
He moaned, half in horror.
Wesker ran his nails up and down the bottom of Leon’s foot again, watching him shudder, his stomach clenching at the sensation. His toes tried to curl in self defense. He lifted Leon’s foot higher in the air, towards his face, and before Leon could realize what he was doing, let alone think to pull away, Wesker ran the tip of his tongue all along the edge of his foot from top to bottom, and then sunk just the barest tip of his canine into the ball of his foot.
The muscles in his legs, in his groin all wrenched, seizing up and twisting under his skin in a convulsion that made him whimper. Wesker kept going, icy blue eyes boring into his as he dragged his teeth over the arch of his foot, latching his mouth onto the bulk of his heel and sucking. Heat shot through his stomach and straight to his dick.
“Please,” he begged.
The other captain purred in approval, his light hair falling over his sharp face, he nipped at the sharp jut of his ankle bone before pulling away. “You can do better than that.”
He stared at the hard cock held just out of reach, open-mouthed, feeling even hungrier and more agonizingly deprived after seeing how it had oozed precum when he had pleaded. His tongue felt two sizes too big for his mouth as he tried to swallow the ingrained response of stubbornness before it managed to get him into more trouble. “Please fuck me.”
Wesker stared at him expectantly.
“Ngh, I’m sorry for what I said— please...fuck me already, I need to cum,” His voice pitched an octave higher, breathy and submissive in a way that seemed to catch the man’s attention.
“That’s nicer,” Wesker teased, the nail of his thumb digging into the tender meat of his sole and dragging around it, “But there’s that pesky ‘need’ in there. Try again,” His voice was demanding with all the haughtiness of a prince used to getting what he asked for. Normally the tone would’ve had Leon ready to fight at a moments notice, but somehow with Wesker it just sent jolts of pleasure tingling down his spine.
“Please. Please, fuck...I n— I want your cock inside me,” Leon pleaded, the desperation lining the words sounding foreign to his ears.
With a rough chuckle, Wesker acquiesced, dropping Leon’s foot with one final nip to his big toe and grabbed his knee instead, using it to roll him over onto his hands and knees before immediately lining up and snapping his hips flush against his ass.
His body didn’t feel like it was his anymore; he willed it not to move and yet it twisted and shook beneath Wesker's hands like a puppet on strings. The older man was playing him like a fiddler, his long fingers touching, pulling, plucking all the right spots to make him shiver and shudder with pleasure. His whole head was crackling and buzzing, static filling his ears, his skin somehow hot and cold and prickling everywhere Wesker stroked. Leon collapsed into the ground, too exhausted from the plethora of sensations to try and support himself on his elbows. Instead he lay half on his side slumped on the tile floor, one leg hoisted up across Wesker’s hip, gasping helplessly as he continued getting brutally fucked from behind.
Wesker pounded into his body, picking up speed, pumping in and out hard enough for him to start sobbing between broken moans as he chased his own release.
The thrashing coil low in Leon’s gut grew with every snap of the captain’s hips, Wesker’s cock scrambling his insides with flashes of near scorching heat as he neared his peak. It felt like every nerve in his body was shivering, and some distant part of his pleasure-addled mind railed against the urge to go completely limp— to further let the man use him like his own personal ragdoll.
Suddenly, the older man stilled. Before Leon could even process his urge to wail in protest, he was grabbed by the hips and pulled off the floor and into a broad lap.
A deep, dark flush spread from Leon’s face to his freckled shoulders at the new position but he couldn’t even bring himself to really feel embarrassed. He was far past embarrassment at this point.
His legs were open wide over the footballer’s thighs, spread so that his cock was fully visible to the rest of the room - and if Leon had been capable of having a single thought in his mind he might’ve noticed Krauser still recording him with the phone from before - straining against his stomach, precum dribbling from the tip and clinging to his abs in thick sticky strands.
Wesker took a moment to commit the lewd, open display to memory, and to check that their audience was still as enraptured by it as he was, before he aligned Leon’s hips...and slammed him down onto his cock. He bucked upwards in the same instant, the obscenely loud smack ringing out across the room. The sensation was just enough to tip him over the edge, and he spilled deep inside Leon, grunting as the swimmer’s tight walls squeezed around him, milking his dick for every last drop.
Leon’s features softened a moment later as he came with a cry, the thick, horrid, heavy knot in his gut erupting in a wave of heat that left him shuddering. A small amount of cum spurted on to his heaving chest as his lashes fluttered over flushed cheeks, lips falling open in a drawn-out moan.
The flash of a camera came from somewhere in front of him, but it was lost on him entirely as stars danced behind his lidded eyes.
The stars slowed their waltz as Leon gradually recovered from his high, and he slumped back against the Wesker’s shoulder.
“Look at him, Chris, all fucked out and sweet now, isn’t he beautiful?.” The captain shifted his hips, his satisfied smirk growing when Leon let out a soft gasp, “look at how sweet he looks stretched out around my cock, just imagine how he’d feel around yours.” Wesker’s hand reached down, pulling at his knee to splay his thighs open even further. “Leon, don’t you want Chris to fuck you?”
Leon made a confused noise, the question not quite registering as anything he could understand.
Cruel fingers danced over his chest, pinching at his nipples until he shifted weakly, rousing slightly. “Do you want Chris to come over here and fuck you, Leon?”
“Mmmh.” He slurred out.
“Good boy,” Wesker praised, “How can you not want to fuck him? Even he wants you to fuck him.”
Chris grunted at the question like he was about to say no, but even Leon, as whacked out and exhausted as he was, could see that the look in his eyes had changed. Instead of the reluctantly aroused look he and Piers had shared at the start of the night, in its place was full blown hunger.
Leon couldn’t bring himself to do anything but watch for his place on Wesker’s lap as Chris shove his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, kicking them off to the side with the rest of their clothes before crossing the room to drop down on his knees next to them. Wesker looked incredibly smug as he ‘helped’ Leon off his lap, his hands guiding Leon back onto knees with his chest pressed to the floor and his head in Wesker’s lap.
His stomach roiled at the touch of the other man's hands on his hips as he fought internally on whether to try and run or just let this happen again. It felt like it was way too late to run, he’d already let them do so much, and he was already so tired.
What was the point of trying to get out of it now?
But something about the way Chris settled in behind him, gently taking hold of him to pull him closer made something in his chest ache horribly. It made him feel like maybe, just maybe, if he really told Chris to stop, if he begged him, he might actually stop and let him go.
However, before he could come to a decision, Wesker made it for him, reaching down and wrapping a fist tightly around Leon's cock while Chris sank inside of him in one slow thrust.
Wesker's hand dwarfed his shaft, large calloused fingers grasping him with the same precision that he had when handling a football during a game. He was slow, but not gentle, and Leon shut his eyes, subconsciously leaning his head against Wesker’s thigh, the man’s slowly hardening cock nudging against the spit and cum slicked skin of his cheek every time Chris’s surprisingly tender thrusts pushed him forwards. This time though, Wesker didn’t scold him for moving around. Instead, he quickened his pace when Leon started panting, purring out more mocking praises.
“Such a good little slut, you’re taking this so well.” His lilting accent would have sounded almost soothing if Leon had been able to ignore what he was actually saying. “Your tight little hole is so sensitive, isn’t it? You love being fucked so much that you barely even need someone to touch your cock anymore to come, hmm? You just need a thick cock stretching your hole and pounding up against your prostate. Look at you, he’s barely even started fucking you and you’re already about to cum again.”
The words made tears burn in his eyes, scalding his pride as another quick orgasm was wrung out of him with a harsh cry. Still, Wesker continued stroking him until there was nothing left to give, the last bit of cum dribbling out over the top of the man's fist. Leon felt wrung out and raw, he wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole somewhere and forget about everything from tonight. Yet Wesker’s calloused fingers kept scraping like sand down his length, making sure to rasp over his overly sensitive head again and again.
“Stop,” he croaked, struggling in the football captain’s grasp, trying to crawl away even though he knew it would do nothing. He was stuck between the two of them, there wasn’t anything he could do. “Stop! Stop, please! It’s too much.”
“Oh, but your little cock is so much fun to play with, why stop?”
“Albert, enough.” Chris’s voice was firm, and Leon could only snivel thankfully when Wesker’s hand finally fell away from his dick. Though that thankfulness was quickly lost in a panicked breath, a full body shudder almost shaking him apart at the seams as Wesker dragged his fingers through the milky, clotted pools of semen that had splattered onto his flesh, smearing it into his already besmirched skin.
Wesker raised his hand for Leon to see, letting the thick liquid fall in smattering drops onto his thigh. Some of it dripped onto the floor between his legs, splattering with a disgusting sound on the tiles. “You really have made a mess, haven't you?” He asked coyly. “You should clean up after yourself, Leon.”
“W-what?” Leon asked dumbly.
He held his hand out in front of Leon’s face. “I said you should clean up after yourself.” He shook his hand. “Lick it clean.”
Leon was about to shake his head, to tell Wesker no, that he didn’t want his own cum anywhere near his mouth, but when he opened his mouth Wesker simply stuffed his fingers inside. His calloused fingers rubbed roughly over the top of his tongue, the acrid taste of his own cum coating the whole inside of his mouth like a film. It was disgusting.
Chris managed to distract him from it quickly when he suddenly grabbed him by the hips and pulled him off his cock so he could flip him over onto his back. Wesker’s fingers dropped out of his mouth in the scuffle, his field of view twirling until he was staring up at Wesker’s smug face instead, his head and shoulders now planted in the other blond’s lap.
"’M gonna eat you out, alright, Leon?” Chris’s voice was all husk, his brown eyes boring into Leon’s with so much lust that it nearly took his breath away.
Leon didn't have time to respond, to ask what he meant by eating him out before there was a tongue licking flat over his hole. He gave the filthiest moan he’s ever heard at the sensation. For a second he really questioned if it had been him that had made the sound.
Chris pulled away long enough to admire the way Leon’s mouth hung wide open, his eyes rolled into the back of his head before he dove back in, licking and kissing at the puffy little opening, steady in his pressure. Even with his good hand stuffed against his mouth, Leon was unable to muffle himself, a high pitched keen coming from the smaller man.
As he dipped his tongue inside, only a little, the sound grew in volume, a tremor wracking through Leon's body.
Wesker was right, Leon was extremely pretty, all fucked out and sweet, Chris thought, not that he’d ever admit it to the footballer. Wesker really didn’t need his ego stroked anymore that it already was.
He continued to give Leon his full attention, bringing his focus back to the task at hand, determined to give him another in the long line of orgasms he’s already had, this one even more amazing than the one Wesker had given him.
He gave the same kind of attention he would have given when kissing, almost loving in his movements. His tongue wrenched sweet, pleasured noises from the blond, and when he retreated to breathe again, the swimmer's eyes were completely glazed over, his breathing heavy, his cock only just beginning to stir again. He watched Leon’s face contort as he buried his mouth, his tongue, deeper; tonguing him almost aggressively.
Leon gasped and kept gasping with every long, torturous lick.
“W-wait—fuck—” Leon fought for air as Chris’s tongue teased around his clenching hole, poking at the firm ring of muscle. His hands shot down towards Chris’s head, desperate to pull him away, only for them to be grabbed before they could even reach his hips. “I cant...I can’t come again please,!”
"You most certainly can.” Wesker had both his wrists in one hand, yanking them back up until they rested against his chest. “Keep going, Chris. Eat his tight ass out, I want to hear him scream.”
Leon cried helplessly, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as each flick of Chris’s tongue sent him spasming violently and clawing at Wesker’s chest for some kind of purchase.
In the end all it took was the barest hint of teeth and the brush of Chris’s stubble, just a little nip to his rim and roughness dragging over him, and he was screaming, his cock barely twitching as he slammed into the wall of a dry orgasm.
His vision gave out completely, and his fracturing mind let him, mercifully, disappear.
For a little while.
“Uh, I think you guys might’ve just killed him.”
Wesker snorted at the awe in Piers’s voice. “He’s fine, just exhausted, as expected.” He pulled the smaller male up fully into his lap, smirking at the way Leon’s body remained limp the whole time he moved him.
It took a bit of maneuvering but eventually Wesker was sitting on the floor of the locker room, Leon cradled in his lap like a cute little ragdoll, unable to even hold himself up without support. The younger blond's head was lolled back against Wesker's shoulder, his blue eyes half lidded and staring up blankly at the ceiling. Wesker had to actually grab hold of his jaw and pull his head back down so that he was forced to look at the other captains staring at him.
“Krauser.” He called. “I believe it’s your turn to use his mouth, don’t bother using a condom this time.”
Krauser just grunted as he got up off the bench, unzipping his pants and pushing his boxers to the side again as he walked over to them. His cock was already half hard from the previous display, and each step he took had it getting harder and harder. Kennedy didn’t even seem to register that he was approaching, not even when Wesker shifted his hand from his jaw to dip two fingers into his mouth, toying with his tongue until more saliva trickled down his chin.
“We’re not aiming to make him come this time around.”
“Yeah, yeah, part of the plan, whatever, I just wanna fuck his stupid mouth.” Krauser groused with a wave of his hand. He didn’t waste any time after that, stroking his cock to full hardness and then shoving it past Leon’s slack lips.
The extra drool slicked the way easily enough, letting his dick glide right across Leon’s tongue. He pushed himself as far into that mouth as he could go, jamming the head in repeatedly until Leon’s throat finally gave way with a sputtered gag.
He didn’t bother going slow, or trying to be gentle, not with Leon as pliant as he was, and if it weren’t for Wesker holding him in place, Leon probably would’ve been half way through the floor from the harsh thrusts.
After a minute the swimmer starts to choke hard on every thrust in, gagging on the thickness of his cock, soft little gurgles bubbling up from behind his stretched out lips. His pretty mouth starts to bruise pink around the edges, obviously taking a beating. Krauser jackrabbits his hips into him, both hands coming up to knot themselves into that soft silky hair, and briefly he’s tempted to just grab a handful and pull on it until it rips right out of Leon’s head; half to hurt him and half just to piss him off, but Wesker would probably kill him.
He only pulls away when Leon’s face starts to shift from red to purple, his little gags getting quieter and quieter, and when Wesker’s face appears next to Leon’s, shooting him a sharp glare over the younger blond’s shoulder. His cock comes away soaking wet and aching to burst, and thick spit follows it out in an obscene string from the open pout of Leon’s mouth and the veiny side of his cock.
Leon sputters as he withdraws, heaving in quick gasps. Each inhale was a cacophony of raspy wheezes, like he was breathing in acid instead of air.
Krauser, quite graciously he thinks, lets him rest for long enough that his breathing evens out before he shoves himself right back in.
Wesker’s arrogant face still staring at him dampens the mood a little bit, and the nasally noise of his voice whispering something against Leon’s temple somehow overshadows the whiny little huffs Leon’s making. His dick actually starts to flag at the sight of the football captain mouthing at Leon’s neck, so close to where his own dick was bulging in the swimmer’s throat.
He starts talking with a snarl, drowning out Wesker’s voice with utter filth, “I always knew you were a fucking slut, Kennedy, ever since I first fucking met you back in highschool,” he hissed between brutal thrusts, “I remember your stupid smug face when you gave your stupid valedictorian speech to the whole school, as if anyone actually cared. Everyone was just imagining bending you over that awards table and pounding into your tight ass until you were crying.”
Leon wheezed, blank blue eyes staring right through him, like he wasn’t hearing a single word he said.
“I know the whole damn wrestling team was thinking about forcing you onto your knees and watching those pretty lips choke on their cocks in front of everybody there. I bet that would have shut you right up. Maybe that’s what you wanted.”
“What do you think, Kennedy? Did you want to be the school’s personal cum-dumpster? Get fucked by every guy that so much as looked your way? Hell, I bet you’d have enjoyed it.” His grin twisted, teeth flashing white. “Stupid whore.” He curled his hand in the roots of Leon’s hair and came without warning, the release scalding down Leon's throat in a viscid stream. His eyes watered painfully as he gagged, nose buried in the hairs at the base of Krauser’s dick. After a few beats, Krauser pulled him off roughly, holding his head up to get another look at the younger blond’s debauched state.
A string of cum trailed from the wrestler’s cockhead to Leon’s shiny lips. His whole face looked worryingly feverish, cheeks scalded a deep red under the thick coating of cum and drool as his lidded eyes threatened to slide shut from exhaustion. Still, his mouth fell agape, a soft filthy moan falling from his lips while seed dribbled down to his chin.
He looked like something out of a wet dream.
Krauser let go of his hair, letting his head drop back down onto Wesker’s chest as he collapsed completely boneless, “He’s all yours, Nivans.”
“Oh, I’m, I don’t know if I —“ The archery captain was cut off mid stutter by Krauser shoulder checking him on his way back to the bench. “I, um, I don’t think it’s a good idea to take advantage of captain Kennedy with the state he’s in.”
“Nonsense. If Leon truly didn’t want this he would have fought back, or attacked or begged for help by now, instead he’s allowed me to fuck him twice, in fact he begged me to fuck him. Surely, regardless of ‘the state he’s in’ he could still alert us of his want to leave. Which he hasn’t done yet.” Wesker dipped his fingers into the waterfall of cum that coated Leon’s chin and let some slip onto his fingers.
It clung on between his fingers as he rubbed it around, making little cobwebs in the air. Leon just lounged back against him, soft and unresponsive. “He can go another round, we just won’t let him cum at all while you’re using him.” Wesker held out the cum coated hand, “Now, how would you like him? As I’m sure you’ve seen, he gives satisfactory blowjobs.”
“Satisfactory? Satisfactory my ass, that little whore sucks dick better when he’s half dead than my ex ever did fully aware.” Krauser’s rough voice piped up from the back of the room, accompanied by the soft click of a lighter.
“Don’t smoke in here.”
Krauser paused with his cigarette already hanging between his lips. “Seriously, why are you such an asshole, Wesker.”
“Either put it out or smoke it outside, just because you don’t mind destroying your lungs doesn’t mean everyone else wants secondhand smoke damage.” Wesker gestured towards the door with a limp hand, clearly dismissing Krauser and expecting his order to be followed as he turned back to Piers once again. Unsurprisingly Krauser stood up with a roll of his eyes, leaving the room. “How do you want him, Nivans?”
“Um…”
“If you have something you’d like to try, I’d suggest doing it now, Leon won’t mind.” Wesker stroked one broad hand over the side of Leon’s face, frightening and affectionate, and then dipped down to roam over the firm planes of his stomach, Piers’s eyes following the whole way, “You won’t mind anything we do to you, will you, darling?” He groped at his thighs, massaging the firm muscles, and gripped Leon’s flaccid length in his hand, all the while Leon didn’t move, not even a twitch at the touches. “See?”
“I’d prefer him on his back.” His face flushed as soon as the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t take them back now that they were out. Wesker was right, if Leon really didn’t want this he would’ve fought harder in the beginning. Or just not come to this meeting at all.
That’s what Piers would have done, tradition or not, if he’d been told to give blowjobs to a bunch of guys he didn’t find attractive he would’ve just said hell no and not shown up. And Coach Burton had said this was the second time they had done this, right, so Leon had come here twice. Wesker, Krauser and Chris had all already had sex with him anyway, he probably wouldn’t care if Piers did too.
Leon slid right off Wesker’s lap when the other blond nudged him, collapsing into a puddle on the ground. His head rolled forwards, and the only thing that stopped it from cracking against the harsh tile floor was Wesker practically diving forward to cushion it with his hand.
Wesker let out a little chuckle, “Perhaps it’s good you have such vanilla tastes, I doubt he’d be capable of holding himself up for anything else.”
Piers paused mid-way through undoing his pants. “Are you really sure we should be having sex with him like this? Maybe he needs to go to the hospital or something.”
“No, no,” Wesker waved his worry away, “He’s fine. Just a tad unresponsive, he’ll be fine soon.”
Leon was rolled onto his back, his head lolling weakly in Wesker’s grasp, and Piers watched as Wesker tried - key word being tried, because Leon was most definitely out of it - to prop his legs up only for them to just slip right back down. Eventually the football captain settled for simply bending his legs at the knee and letting them fall as far to the side as they could go. Which, in all fairness, was quite far.
Leon’s knees nearly touched the floor.
It was simultaneously hot as hell and worrying to see the normally energetic swim captain so limp and unresponsive.
Somehow the worry didn’t manage to stop Piers from moving to kneel right between Leon’s splayed legs, a condom already on his cock. It made him hesitate when he put his hands on Leon’s knees and they just spread a little further, but it didn’t stop him.
He shifted closer, stroking his hands along the outside of Leon’s knees, coaxing them up and around his hips before sliding inside of him. Leon was still slick from Wesker and Chris fucking him and yet somehow he was still as tight as a vice grip around Piers.
Piers barely registers Wesker moving away from them, too focused on the slow, slick slide of his cock in and out of that tight ass. It doesn’t take long for him to return though, and when he does he immediately lounges next to Leon’s head, prying his mouth open with long nimble fingers.
Something small and cream-colored, a little oval shaped pill, Piers realizes, settles on the edge of Leon’s tongue, and then Wesker is pressing his mouth closed. Piers watches Leon’s elegant throat swallow around the pill, completely enthralled by the movement. “What’s that?”
“Just a little something to help him back to the real world.” A devious tint made Wesker’s already unsettling blue eyes even scarier. “Sort of. He'll be a bit more lively shortly, at the very least.”
He left it at that.
Instead, he leaned forward far enough to lock his lips with Leon’s slack ones, kissing the blond sweetly as he kept up the unhurried pace. Slowly but surely whatever Wesker had given Leon started to take hold, and Piers got a front row seat to it happening.
Leon started to come alive underneath him.
He bent down to kiss him again, slowly, to give Leon all the time to change his mind if he did want to stop, but the blond just let out a content little mewl. Piers caged him in on all sides, his knees on the outside of Leon’s hips, his hands sliding into his hair to tug a little and to tilt Leon’s head back for a better angle, his hands moving to bracket his shoulders.
Leon let him, and the little kittenish moans he kept letting out against his lips told him all he needed to know. Piers deepened their kiss, running his tongue along Leon’s, twisting them together playfully before breaking away to trace his lips down the sharp outline of Leon’s jaw, to the pulse point in his neck, nipping and licking as he went.
“C’mon, what are you doing, Nivans,” Krauser jeered as he wandered back into the locker room, “you’re not making love like a pair of fucking teenagers losing their virginity on prom night, you’re supposed to be fucking the slut!”
Piers pulled back long enough to glare and see Chris smack Krauser in the shoulder before leaning in to kiss his way back up to just below Leon’s ear. He sucked hard, reveling in the way Leon trembled and bucked up against him, grinding his slowly hardening cock against his abs like his life depended on it. His ass clenched down when Piers did it again, and if it weren’t for how slow they had been going, he probably would have cum right there and then.
“F-Fuck, your ass feels so good around my cock,” the archer gasped.
Leon's mouth hung wide open around a moan, his head thrown back and watery blue eyes vacantly staring at the ceiling. Piers pulled back slowly, agonizingly slowly, stopping once all that was left was the weeping head in Leon's ass. His hands anchored Leon to the floor by his hips, preventing him from chasing after Piers’s dick, and the way Leon whined at that almost made Piers let him go. Almost.
He pushed back in...but only by a cruel half-inch, and the wounded noise that was punched out of Leon’s throat was well worth the self imposed torture. It was even more worth it when a few pearlescent tears slipped past blonde lashes to drip down Leon’s chin.
“Fuck,” Piers breathed, his hips stopping completely as Leon clenched around him, trying to coax him in further. “You look so pretty when you cry, Leon.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” Wesker agreed huskily from right behind them. “But Krauser does have a point, surely you can fuck him harder than that, Nivans. You need to do more if you really want to see him cry,” Wesker draped himself across the brunet’s back with a smirk tugging at his lips. The blond captain grabbed Piers’s hips and shoved them forwards, forcing him balls deep in one brutal thrust. Both of them gasped. “Maybe you’d prefer someone to help you? I’d be more than happy to be a guide,” He punctuated the words by yanking Piers backwards enough for his cock to pop right out of Leon’s loose hole and then shoving him right back in all the way to the hilt. Leon yowled at the sensation, that change in angle dragging Pier’s cock brutally across his prostate. His leg kicked out and nailed Wesker right in the hip as he spasmed. Hot hands immediately released Pier’s hips, Wesker’s warmth disappearing from his back as well, letting him control the pace on his own once again.
This time he didn’t go slowly. He fucked into Leon with a lot more haste, knowing damn well that Wesker was going to be pissed about getting kicked and it wouldn’t take him long to recover from it. Leon didn’t seem to mind the change of pace, if anything he just got louder and more incoherent, hooking his legs around Piers’s hips and dragging him in with his ankles.
He slammed in one last time, twisting his hips in a way he knew would nail Leon’s prostate, and then Leon was coming. His whole body went taut, every muscle in his body seizing all at once, and Piers came with him. It took almost everything he had to just remain upright, to not collapse over top of Leon and crush him into the floor; he couldn’t remember coming that hard, not even the first time he’d ever fucked someone. Piers had to agree with Krauser, Leon was definitely a better lay even when he was out of it than his ex-girlfriend had ever been.
He didn’t get to enjoy the afterglow for long. Wesker’s hand landed on his shoulder seconds later, and Piers didn’t fight when he was pulled away.
A quick glance at Wesker’s hip revealed a blotchy patch of red skin right over his hip bone, obviously the beginning of a bruise, and Piers wasted no time scampering back over to the relative safety of the bench.
“Missionary, really, Nivans?” Krauser’s lip was curled up in disgust, looking at the brunet like he was an idiot as he hastily pulled off his condom and tied it up, “All the things you could do to him and you go for missionary sex? Jesus Christ, what a fucking waste of a turn…”
“Shut the fuck up, Krauser,” Chris snapped in his defense, looking more and more agitated with each passing second even though his eyes were still focused on where Wesker was looming over Leon, “It’s not like doggy style is any better.”
Krauser scoffed, “Really, Redfield? Missionary is worthless for everyone but sappy ass newly-weds.” With that he turned back to Leon and Wesker, seemingly intent on watching whatever Wesker was going to do next.
“That was very very rude of you, Leon,” Wesker’s voice was barely above a whisper, angry eyes roving over the twitching, whimpering form of the other blond. “As nice as I’ve been to you tonight, and you still want to be a brat.” He moved forward on his knees, leaning down to run his fingers across the planes of Leon’s abs, blunt fingernails etching little red lines over his stomach.
Leon was staring up at him with empty eyes, the aphrodisiac he had given Leon already starting to pull him under its hold. “We’re going to have to find some way to get rid of that horrible insolence of yours before the main event, hmm? We wouldn’t want you coming off like a brat on camera, would we?” Wesker’s voice changed to a taunting hum as he pet Leon’s cheek, waiting until those eyes followed his voice before continuing. “But don’t you worry, I have a perfect idea.”
Leon’s head felt like it was full of hot steam, his field of vision hazy and wavering any time he tried to move even a little bit. The gentle but warm hand on his face only adding to the steady thrum of confusion and arousal running through his very veins.
It took a frustratingly long time for his sluggish brain to shift through the fog and piece together exactly what Wesker had said, and even then most of it was left lost in the floating nothingness swamping him. His mind vaguely supplied him with the memory of the older captain joking about spanking him ‘like the brat he was’ before during the few times they had shared the college’s locker room.
By time his mind had gotten that far, Wesker was patting his cheek one last time before curling his hand around the base of his neck and shoving him forwards.
He fell face first into the floor, hard enough that he could hear the horrible crunching sound of his nose over the ringing in his ears. His arm, both a blessing and a curse, broke his fall— while it kept his face from any more severe injuries, the broken bones shifted under his skin.
Leon blinked against the floor, dazed from the hit to the face. He tried to push himself up, only for a hand to plant itself in between his shoulders and push him down again. He felt the rumble of someone talking to him, the voice get more and more distant, each word passing through his head without understanding.
His second attempt to move was met with a firmer hand on his back, grinding his face into the cold floor beneath him.
And so he waited, though not quite understanding what exactly it was that he was waiting for. He tried to think, something telling him that he had known what was happening a moment ago, but he couldn’t. His mind was too lost, too focused on the dryness of his mouth and the aching of his cock between his legs. He didn't have long to figure it out, anyway. When Wesker landed the first blow, he might as well have taken a hot poker to his ass.
It stung, sudden and sharp and powerful before spreading outwards all across his ass cheek. Leon bit down on his tongue until he could taste the tang of blood in his mouth, but it did basically nothing to muffle his confused sob, and even worse, he could feel himself getting even harder as the pain quickly simmered into white hot pleasure. He writhed as he was struck again and again and again, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to get away, or push himself back for more, his body wanted to get away but his mind screamed for more.
“Now, now, Leon, be still,” Wesker’s voice was a distant chiding murmur, barely heard, even as his nails found a particularly tender spot and dragged across it, the flashes of pain sending Leon whimpering against the hot skin of his forearms.
Everything burned. It felt like he was burning up from the inside out, the first few hits having lit something alight inside of him and sent the blaze barreling through him. Every strike was pure torture, the pain stoking the fire in his gut that made him crave more. Wesker took his time, striking along the skin with painful precision until Leon was sure there wasn't a single spot left unreddened. With each smack, Leon came further and further undone until he was crying as freely as a chastened child, his keens echoing off the tiles and radiating around in his head.
As the punishing pace continued, the misery of his predicament truly started to sink in. Leon wasn’t sure how much more he could handle, or even what was going on. He could barely think as it was, his thoughts swirling around and around in a constant loop, desperately calling out for something more. But he was already at his limit, his whole backside alight with agony, and yet impossibly he didn’t want it to end. Each strike just made the heat keep growing, searing it’s way through every nook and cranny of his body until every muscle shook violently out of his control.
He sobbed, coming apart as he curled further in on himself, desperate to get away from the pain and wanting the fire to stop spreading. Completely lost in the myriad sensations, he couldn’t count how many times he had been hit. It could have been a handful, it could have been dozens.
All he knew was heat and pain.
“Stop.” Someone cried out, maybe it was him, it sounded too far away, too muffled to be him, but who else could it be, it was just him and the fire.
The hits finally stopped, yet the heat kept building, molten liquid searing down his insides and pooling heavy in his gut. It swelled eagerly, flailing against his organs as the throbbing bursts of heat increased tenfold.
Voices rattled around in his head, their words unintelligible.
Heavy hands took hold of him, the feeling barely breaking through the murky stupor he was in. One came to rest on the back of his neck, a thumb steady and searing at the corner of his jaw, while the other pushed the damp strands of hair out of his eyes and rested firmly on his forehead. He met a soft brown gaze, too shaken to do more than just stare at the familiar yet unknown face. His heart hammered. His chest heaved. He hoped it wasn't him sobbing as another hit slammed down onto his ass with renewed vigor.
Chris's fingers threaded along Leon's scalp, ignoring the violent heat seeping off Leon’s skin as he tugged gently, trying to get that vacant gaze to actually focus on him as he drew Leon closer. His eyes were hazy, the blue of his irises almost wholly obscured by his blown out pupils. He looked like he was miles away and completely unaware of what was happening.
He was pulled, practically weightless, into the man's lap, wincing when the sore flesh made contact with the older man’s thighs.
Chris leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Don’t worry, Leon, it’s almost over, I promise,” he kissed him almost sweetly, practically drinking up the harsh wails that were spilling from Leon’s chapped lips. “Just one more round and then you’re done.”
Leon didn’t react at all to his words, he just slumped in his lap as Chris worked to maneuver him onto his cock.
The poor thing looked utterly wrecked. Whatever Wesker had given him clearly had him out of his mind. The blond felt like a little furnace, heat radiating off him in waves, and he must’ve felt it too, because the few jumbled words Chris could catch between the noises he was making were all about burning.
Really, the last thing Chris wanted to do was fuck him again in the state he was in, but the only way he had been able to convince Wesker to stop practically beating Leon was to agree to fuck him again. With Wesker. At the same time.
God Wesker was such a sick fuck. Chris honestly couldn’t believe he’d been dumb enough to consider him a friend at one point.
“What the fuck were you thinking, giving him drugs with how out of it he already was after you fucked him,” Chris hissed as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable way to sit while holding Leon’s trembling body in his lap that wouldn’t knock his legs up against Wesker’s hand where it had forced itself between him and Leon to start fingering the blond further open.
Wesker inhaled, the hand not fingering Leon’s stretched out hole flying up to his chest in mock distress, “Chris.” He gasped, “You wound me. I’m merely helping Leon find what pleasures him, think of it as something of a sexual awakening, and he seems to like that little drug I gave him,” He crooked his fingers, rubbing the tip of his index finger over Leon’s painfully oversensitive prostate and smiling innocently at Chris over the smaller blond’s shoulder when Leon let out a broken, sobbing moan, “See? How could such a sweet noise like that be bad.”
“Wesker, this isn’t some kind of sexual awakening, he’s half dead!” Chris practically yelled, barely managing to keep a hold of his armful when Leon started flailing at his raised voice. “He’s burning up and he’s out of his damn mind, he needs a hospital not sex.”
“Oh calm down, he’s having a bad reaction to an aphrodisiac,” Wesker waved off his concern, “He just needs to have an orgasm or two to get it out of his system and he’ll be fine.” He twisted his fingers again, this time drawing a yowl from Leon. “Unless you’d prefer to stop and just leave him to suffer?”
Leon was pulled up into a sitting position, legs spread wide over two broad laps, the contact a blistering heat against the backs of his thighs. He panted into Wesker’s mouth, his soft whimpers completely muffled by the older captain’s tongue in his mouth as nimble fingers traced around his rim where it was already stretched around Chris’s cock. He babbled nonsensically as he pulled away from the man in front of him, unsure what words he was trying to get out, let alone which ones were actually making it out. He just knew he wanted the burning to stop.
“You can take it, kid, just relax.” Chris shushed him, not even trying to make sense of the steady stream of mumbles, and thrusted upwards. The force nearly knocked Leon right off his lap, even with huge hands having a steady hold on his waist, and by the time Leon was maneuvered back in place, two of Wesker’s fingers were inside of him, stretching him even further. It was like heaven and hell at the same time.
The sensations were too much, too soon.
By the time Wesker sunk a third finger into him, he was fairly sure he was going to die right there. His brain might’ve been a shrieking mess, boiled to nothing by the ever present heat washing over him, but it could still understand that there was just no way the both of them could fit inside of him at once. They’d tear him apart before they were both fully in.
Yet he still wanted it. Still needed it. His hips still ground down onto the man inside of him, his lips still moaned and begged for more the entire way through.
The blond positioned his cock next to the brunet’s, pushing in so their combined girth stretched Leon nearly to his breaking point.
"That’s it, just a little more, Leon.” Wesker purred, caressing Leon’s cum stained face with far more gentleness than Leon had thought possible of the other captain as the last few inches of his dick slid into him, filling him up so much that he was pretty sure he could feel them in his stomach.
Then they started to move.
Throwing his head back, Leon could only clutch at the men fucking him and scream when they thrust inside of him, the combined assault turning his mind to nothing but snowflakes against a white-hot fire. He came once, mind screeching to a halt, tears running down his face, mixing with the cum painting his cheeks, and then came again immediately after as his vision blacked out. Chris and Wesker followed soon after, neither lasting long with the sensation of that tight ass squeezing their cocks.
There was an intensely perverse sense of pleasure Wesker took from the sight of his and Chris’s cum leaking out of Leon's ass as they pulled loose, the pleasure only further enhanced by the image of the blond limp and unconscious, completely fucked out between the two of them. The swim captain was nothing more than a gasping, cum covered, sweaty mess.
Still, Wesker wasn’t done with him.
The second Chris pulled all the way out and started to move away, Wesker snatched Leon up like a greedy child with a beloved toy. Leon’s limp body slid easily over his lap, his hands spreading his cheeks to reveal his puffy, slick rim.
Unable to resist the urge, he immediately slid a finger inside of him. He drank in every drop of the lewd expression on the boy’s face as he fucked his finger in and out of him, thick globs of cum oozing out and dripping onto the tiles. The tortured moan that Leon graced him with as his eyes rolled open was like music to his ears. Leon’s little symphony died out when his hand stilled while he changed angles, but when his finger slid back in with a squelch the concert began again. He orchestrated every press and rub of his digit to pull every conceivable sound from the smaller, twisting and stroking his walls and pushing deeper and deeper.
“Wesker, he’s had enough, he can’t take anymore.”
“Honestly, you need to make up your mind, Christopher,” Wesker snapped, finally incensed at the brunet’s constant interruptions. “First you want me to help him, now you want me to leave him alone, the orgasms are obviously helping him,” He slowed his finger to a halt and stared triumphantly at Chris as Leon started begging him to keep going, this time using actual words instead of just animalistic noises. Granted, the words were so heavily slurred that they were basically unintelligible, nonetheless, it was still progress. “He’s even talking now.”
Chris still looked unconvinced. “Barely. He’s barely talking.”
They both watched as Leon begged louder, almost caterwauling, his hands uselessly scrabbling against Wesker’s chest to try and get his attention.
Leon’s head buzzed with the renewed need burning through his body, each touch of Wesker’s body against his sending sizzling little sparks jolting through him. The heat burning him up had cooler slightly, enough for him to recognize that the more noises he made the more touches he got.
So he made more noise. He forced his tongue to mold itself around garbled syllables, he fought the haze to let the unknown noises slip from his lips.
His reward was a second finger quickly joining the first, then a third, spreading him loose until hot cum seeped out his hole and dribbled over his balls and down his thighs. Another hand grabbed Leon’s knee and pushed it back against his chest and held it there firmly, leaving him fully exposed for the other captains to watch him being fucked open on his Wesker’s fingers.
He didn’t care. He didn’t even notice enough to care.
Unbidden, he answered the questing warmth in his body with a keen, thighs already trembling as he rocked himself back and forth a bare inch, breath stuttering out of his lungs as he felt his body cling to those fingers. The pleasure robbed him of what little of his thoughts remained, reducing him down to nothing, the whole world was starting to fade again, blurring around the edges, leaving just him and the fingers that were slowly wicking away the heat.
He honed in on the sensation of calloused digits dragging along inside him, squeezed himself around them, desperate to be fed more of it until he was nothing.
He shifted, flinging out a hand to brace it against the ground in front of him to try and gain leverage so he could slide himself back and forth in earnest, mouth dropping open on more muddled words. He thought for a bare moment he could hear someone yelping as pain lanced up his arm, only to swifting be drowned out by the need to keep moving. Biting into his lip hard enough to sting, Leon spread his knees wider and began to rock himself, riding the long fingers and moving himself like a seasoned whore, unaware of his words devolving into soft little puffed out sounds.
Endurance began to fade from him quicker than he’d expected and all too suddenly he was breathless to the point of dizziness, his arm shaking when he reluctantly let himself slow down for a moment.
A strong, warm arm wrapped around his hips, hauling him backwards so he was no longer supported by his arm and pulling those fingers out of him at the same time. He tried to claw at the arm pulling him away, only for another to wrap around his throat, the two of them guiding him back until something thick brushed against his aching hole. More meaningless, unknown words were breathed against his ear, and then he was being filled again. The intrusion spread him open further than the fingers had, filling the molten pit in his stomach enough to earn back some of his sanity for just a moment.
“So good for me,” Wesker growled in his ear, hips flexing to grind into him. “Such a needy little thing.”
The words were heady, threading through his drugged up mind and grounding him as he leaned back, hiccupping a moan as he ground down over him. Every shift of their hips seemed to punch a gasp out of his chest, as if Wesker was filling him up so full he didn’t even have room left to breathe.
“Let’s see if we can’t get you to cum again before I do, shall we?” Wesker’s voice was a teasing lilt as he folded over him like they were rutting dogs to reach down, his fingertips brushing against Leon’s dripping length.
He shuffled away from the touch, resentful of anything that would distract him from milking Wesker for all he had to give. Leon let his head drop further, one hand moving to be flat on the floor so he supported Wesker’s weight. It changed the angle and he could feel Wesker pulse deep inside him, responsive to the way that Leon rolled his hips and ground back, trying to keep as much as he could snug inside his tight heat.
Again, he felt like he was being submerged under the heat, floating slow and idle through the thickness. Heady, dreamy, burning.
“Ah, ah, don’t drift off again now, sweetheart. You were just back with me for a minute.” Wesker purred, one arm wrapping around Leon’s waist to keep them flush, until Leon could feel his breaths and his heartbeat searing against the notches of his spine, molding them together somehow more intimately than where they were already joined. He trembled as he rocked back, as he felt every inch of hot, velvety flesh drag along his insides. Every ridge and dip, squeezed and caressed by his walls as if they were pleased to be stuffed full.
“God, listen to you,” Teeth scraped lightly along the back of Leon’s neck, a hand pushing down between his shoulders, presenting his ass higher and angling his hips so he could be ploughed into harder. “You sound like such a little whore-- fuck,” Wesker gasped behind him, hips jerking upwards, burying himself deep, his dick throbbing as it dumped hot wetness inside him.
Each firm flex of it pulsed right along Leon’s prostate and he mewed, slumping in Wesker’s grip as the man’s low huffs rumbled in his ear. Wesker rode out his orgasm in slow, hard rolls of his hips, his head eventually dipping down onto Leon’s shoulder as he milked himself of the last of it.
Wesker didn’t stay still for long.
He flexed his hips once he’d caught his breath, rasping his teeth along the curve of Leon’s back and rubbing his spent length through his own cum. His hands roamed down down Leon’s stomach, intent and gentle over his skin, soothing the smoldering flames in his belly.
Wesker ripped his release from him with a single harsh twist of his hand over his cock. The hunger, the heat, encased him so thoroughly that he melted under it like candle wax. His muscles, which had been so tense, fell lax and helpless once again. His orgasm burned as it spattered his stomach in a shotgun blast of hot shame.
Wesker crooned out something soft, only dropping Leon's cock once it had gone completely flaccid.
Clarity slowly started trickling back into Leon’s mind almost like his orgasm had drained away most of whatever had been scorching through him. He still wasn’t all there, but he could actually comprehend the words Wesker was murmuring against his skin, he could feel his hands ghosting over him without it sending his mind spiraling.
And then after the clarity came a wave of conflict. With the fire mostly burnt out of his body he was left with just the barest hint of desire, a bone deep exhaustion and a racing pulse of shame.
His face flushed as the haze began to fade from his eyes.
He could see the three sets of identical hungry stares aimed at him from the other side of the room.
“Fuck, that had no right to be that hot,” Krauser groused from the bench, his hard cock out and in hand, something small and red being stroked over the thick length.
Echoes of the things he had done, the noises he made, the things that had been done to him started filtering back in. Even worse, he was acutely aware of all the blank spots that weren’t coming back. Bits and pieces of just white noise and nothingness slotting in between each lewd, deplorable memory.
Suddenly Wesker’s hands on him felt repulsive, like something slick and slimy wriggling around on his skin, leaving chilling crawling sensations all over. He pushed away from the older captain with a panicked breath, nearly bashing him in the nose with his broken arm in his haste to get away.
Leon barely made it more than a foot away, his exhausted muscles unable to carry him even with the rush of adrenaline that pulsed with every beat of his hammering heart.
“Well that’s not very nice,” Wesker’s agitated voice had him trying to skitter farther away, the effort was unfortunately in vain, as a hand grabbed his ankle before he could get too far out of reach and dragged him back towards the older captain, “You were so sweet just a moment ago, and now you’re running away like I’m some kind of monster, darling.”
Long, slim fingers prodded at his sore entrance, smearing the leftover lube and cum there around the sensitive skin, and suddenly it was like a bubble bursting. The last of the soothing lull in his head fled along with whatever had been left of his dignity.
“Ahk! N-No, Wesk-“ Leon broke off into a whine as the slick, smooth silicone of a used condom pressed against his ass.
“Don’t fret, Leon, I’m just making sure you don’t lose the souvenirs of our time together.” The condom squashed flat against his hole, stretching and conforming around the shape of Wesker’s fingers before finally pushing into his ass. “We wouldn’t want you to forget this night, after all.”
He sobbed at the feeling, utter humiliation washing over him.
Another three full condoms were forced into him, followed swiftly by the thick head of Wesker’s dick. The football captain nudged them in deeper with several quick short thrusts, fucking him until even the tied up ends of the condoms had disappeared inside of him.
“There,” Wesker crooned mockingly, “now you’ll have to do something to remember us by, until next time your team loses, of course.” Wesker shifted away from his back, and not even a moment later Krauser was taking his place.
Much to Leon’s surprise, he didn’t start fucking him.
Instead Krauser shoved a hand down on his back, pinning him face first against the tiles as the scrap of fabric he had been jerking off with hit the floor right in front of him. A scrap of fabric that he could now see was his spare speedo, the inside of the red swimwear marred by a liberal coating of thick white cum.
Leon didn’t even bother trying to fight as he felt Krauser's hands grab onto his speedo. He was too exhausted, too wrung out, too everything to even twitch. He was just completely and utterly defeated, he couldn’t even bring himself to beg. Not that it would really help. He already knew that begging would get him nowhere with Krauser and certainly not with Wesker. It would probably just end up with them fucking his mouth again and then shoving him into a locker.
He did somehow manage to scrounge up the strength to whimper as the swimwear was tugged further and further up his back, the quickly cooling semen squishing out of the leg holes and dripping down his already stained thighs.
At the very least the cum did slick his ass up enough that he barely felt the friction. Instead what he felt was the pressure of his speedo cupping his balls like the fabrics life depended on it.
Krauser kept pulling until the speedo was all the way up his back, right over his head and then he let the elastic waistband snap down right over his nose, effectively blinding him. His limp head flew back at the sudden tension, a little yelp startled out of him as his neck was strained.
Of course because Krauser just couldn’t resist the urge to humiliate him even more, he knew he heard the pop of a sharpie uncapping even before he felt the soft tip of the pen pressing into the back of his thigh. The pain of the pen tip digging into his already bruised up thighs was somehow more painful than the wedgie itself.
And as if being wedgied with his own speedo that was soaked in cum, and being written on with permanent marker weren’t humiliating enough, it didn’t stop there, oh no, Krauser just had to carry him over to the lockers at the back of the room and kick one open.
Krauser held him up by the slip of fabric, fumbling around noisily as he tried to both stuff Leon into the locker and tie the fabric around the coat hook. Eventually - after banging Leon’s head around enough to give him a concussion and probably dent the locker - he settled for just slipping the fabric over the hook and letting him drop down to hang off of it.
Leon dangled from the hook limply, his scraped up knees shoved in against the cold metal on one side and his back was practically glued with sweat and semen to the other side. He couldn’t see exactly who’s hand grabbed his knee - he was pretty sure it was Wesker’s, the fingers were too narrow to be Chris or Krauser’s he thought dazedly - but they used it to nudge him to the side, so that his ass and thighs were facing the front of the locker.
There was the soft click of a phone camera, and then a scoff that was definitely Wesker.
“Did you…” Wesker sounded absolutely astonished above him, “Did you misspell slut?”
“Shut up!”
“Of all the words…”
“Look, not everyone’s a fucking genius, Wesker!”
“Certainly not, though I’d assume most who make it to college can spell a word as simple as slut, genius or not.” Leon could hear the sneer in his voice, and if he had been in literally any other situation right now he would’ve died laughing at Krauser misspelling slut. But it wasn’t nearly as funny when he was hung up in a locker with cum smeared all over his body and that stupid misspelled word was written on him and he was so so drained.
Wesker dropped his hand from his knee, letting gravity spin him so that he was facing back towards the front of the locker before digging the tips of his fingers into the soft hollow of Leon’s cheeks instead, forcing his mouth open one last time to drag him into the filthiest kiss Leon had ever received.
His teeth dug into his bottom lip, nipping and tugging at the plush flesh until it split open again so that he could lap at the small trickle of blood that welled up. He pulled back with a wet slurp and patted Leon on the cheek. “We’ll see you again in two weeks when your team loses their next meet, if not earlier.” He promised, then the locker door slammed closed.
Outside of the locker:
“Wait a minute,” Piers squinted, stopping halfway through pulling his shirt back over his head, “How do you know we’ll see him again in two weeks?” He asked Wesker, “What if his team doesn’t lose?”
“Oh, they’ll lose.”
Chris and Piers stared at the blond captain. “What if he trains them really hard, I mean if I was him this would be a hell of an incentive to not let my team slack off…”
Wesker just hummed as he straightened the perfectly tied bow on his shoelaces, “It doesn’t matter how good or bad they are, they won’t win their next meet. Or any of the ones they have for the rest of this season, for that matter.”
“Yeah, Wesker fucking bribed the judges, so Kennedy isn’t going to be winning anything for a while,” Krauser cut in with a cruel laugh.
"Oh go- Wesker,” God that was fucked up. It was one thing for them to participate in this stupid tradition when one of them actually lost, but to have Wesker bribe judges so that Leon’s team would lose? That was fucked up.
“What the fuck, man, he could lose his scholarship or something if he spends a whole season losing!"
“No, he won’t. Unlike the three of you, he isn’t here on a sport’s scholarship. He got into this college based on his academic scoring, so long as he keeps his current GPA he won’t lose any funding.”
Chris was absolutely scandalized, “First off how the fuck do you know that, and also, that’s still fucked up! You’re still messing with his future, as if you drugging and fucking him wasn’t enough! Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Do you forget that my father practically owns this college, Redfield?” Wesker turned to stare at him with his piercing blue gaze. “I can do anything I want here, and as for why, it's because I wanted to.” He took a menacing step towards the three of them. “I wanted to look at Kennedy’s records, so I did. I wanted to fuck him, so I did. I want to keep fucking him, so I will.”
He said it like it was fact, like the whole thing was already set in stone.
“And the three of you will keep coming to these little meetings, every time he loses, because I’m telling you too.”
“Like hell we will! Piers and I aren’t going to be a part of this, you may have tricked us into this once, but we’re not doing this again.”
Wesker’s head cocked to the side, his eyebrow rising up over his sunglasses. “Yes you will,” He said simply, “Because if you don’t, you’ll find yourself dealing with a very unfortunate rape and assault allegation, with video and photographic proof, and Leon will find himself with only myself and Krauser for company next time.”
Chris sputtered, “You’re on those videos too!”
“I am. However, I have a fleet of very expensive, very well versed lawyers, something none of you have access to, and I also know that the local prosecutor will settle for going after three weaker links rather than risk his conviction rate failing to take down the stronger one.”
The slam of his locker echoed in the room, sounding a lot more like a jail cell swinging shut to his three ‘accomplices’. “I’ll see the three of you here in two weeks.”
With that, he went to walk out of the locker room, though he did turn back to give them one last parting gift, “Be sure to clear your schedules, I intend for our next meeting to run well into the weekend.”
End.