Work Text:
Leon rarely had reason to enter the R.P.D.’s dark room. He always felt like something was about to jump out at him from the darkness whenever he went to pick up evidence in the small room tucked in a back corner beneath the stairs.
The door was closed and a red glow oozed from beneath the frame leading Leon to knock before entering. He wouldn’t forget the last time he barged straight in and allowed light to flood the space, effectively ruining the photos currently developing, and causing the officer inside to file a formal complaint against his carelessness.
“Just a moment.”
Leon froze at the sound of that voice and he swallowed hard. He’d barely seen Wesker at all the past few days as the whole S.T.A.R.S. team had been involved in fieldwork and Leon felt very stupid for missing the Captain’s presence. Now Wesker was just a few feet away and any moment now he’d come out the dark room, trapping himself and Leon in the small antechamber. Leon took a step back from the door and glanced around for something to keep his attention so he wasn’t just standing stupidly when Wesker emerged.
“Oh. Officer Kennedy.”
“Captain,” Leon said, focusing very hard on keeping his voice level.
Wesker was holding a handful of photographs which he quickly slipped into a manila envelope. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow revealing bare arms, strong corded muscles that Leon struggled to drag his eyes away from. There was a light glow on his face and neck from sweat due to the heat in the small cubbyhole room with no windows or AC. His usual pair of sunglasses were tucked into the chest pocket of his shirt leaving his striking grey blue eyes visible.
Leon cleared his throat.
“Sorry, I just needed to pick up some photos for Officer Edwards.”
“I see.” Wesker’s expression remained still, his entire frame statuesque and entirely unreadable. “Do you often pick up little tasks for your fellow officers?”
“Uh-”
“Officer Edwards is not your superior.”
“I’m just trying to be helpful.”
Wesker’s eyes flicked up and down and Leon tried to stand normally, becoming suddenly aware of how awkwardly every limb was positioned. He over-corrected by trying to lean casually on the small desk which made him look even more ridiculous.
“You’re not the R.P.D. errand boy,” Wesker said flatly. “You’re not here to fetch and carry like some kind of puppy.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t apologize. I hate apologies.” Wesker glanced at Leon’s awkward posture, then back up into his wide eyes. He frowned slightly. “Is that comfortable for you?”
“Uh- no, not really.” Leon cleared his throat and stood up straight, putting one hand in his pocket, then both hands, then pulling them both out and letting them drop to his sides, then putting them together behind his back, then putting them back at his sides. Wesker blinked.
“Well then. Seeing as you’re here already you might as well pick up those photographs, but I’ll be having a word with Officer Edwards. I don’t want this to happen again.” He paused, not moving from his position in front of the dark room door frame. “It isn’t just Edwards, is it? You pick up after all of them.”
“I guess so, sir.”
“Hmm.”
“Not Lieutenant Branagh though.”
“Yes, well, he knows better. You do want to be a police officer don’t you, Kennedy?”
Leon felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. Wesker’s stare was so intense, especially when it wasn’t softened by a pair of shades. “Yes, of course, absolutely.”
“I suggest you start acting like an officer and not a secretary then.”
“Yes, sir. Sor-” He caught his apology in the back of his throat before it escaped. “Yes, Captain.”
“Good.” Wesker tapped the folder in his hand and moved away from the dark room, allowing Leon to approach. “I don’t mean to be harsh on you, Leon, but they’ll take advantage of you if you let them.”
Leon nodded. Wesker’s tone and expression had softened a little. He had moved out of Leon’s way, but had made no motion to leave the room. He was still staring at Leon, head slightly tilted, as if expecting Leon to say something.
“I haven’t seen you around much lately…um...” Leon began awkwardly before trailing off. He gestured to the folder in Wesker’s hand. “Is that from your mission?”
There was a moment’s silence which went on too long for Leon to handle and he wondered if he’d overstepped a line. Then Wesker smiled. Small and brief, but a smile nonetheless.
“Ah, no, this is just a little project of my own.”
“You’re a photographer?”
Wesker smiled again, a little wider, and Leon felt a strange pain in his stomach at the sight of it.
“Of sorts. An amateur one I suppose.”
“Landscapes?”
“People.”
“May I see?”
“Perhaps another time.” Wesker’s hand tightened slightly on the folder and he brought it closer to his chest. “I believe you have some evidence to ferry across the building.”
“Yeah, sure, of course.” Leon darted inside the darkroom and found the developed photographs he’d been sent to collect and shoved them quickly inside a folder before heading back out into the antechamber. He stopped short when he saw that Wesker was still standing there, leaning against one of the lockers, sunglasses in place on the bridge of his nose. They made his expression even more incomprehensible.
“You have an interesting profile, Leon.”
“Huh?”
“You’d make an excellent subject.”
Leon felt his throat tighten and he tried for a casual smile. “Maybe you should photograph me,” he said with as much ease as he could muster.
“Maybe I should,” Wesker replied without a hint of jest, before turning on his heel.
Leon was signing out for the day at the large desk that greeted visitors to the main hall. He’d passed by the S.T.A.R.S. office more than once during his shift even though he didn’t have a good reason to be up there, but he craved his interactions with Wesker, and the past week had felt so empty without him around.
“Hey, rookie!” Leon looked up and saw Officer Phillips sticking his head round the West Office door. “You got a minute?”
Leon gestured to the bag slung over his shoulder and the casual attire he’d already changed into. “I’m done for the day, Officer.”
“It won’t take a second.”
Leon hesitated, then nodded, fingers twitching on the bag strap. He took a step closer to the office, but didn’t fully commit. Phillips had a bunch of papers in his hand which he held out.
“You think you could run these down to the interrogation room? I was meant to take them down there a while ago.”
“Uh-”
“They really need them.
“I can’t.” Leon paused, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “Sorry.”
“It needs to be done tonight.”
“When does your shift end?”
Phillips checked his watch. “In a couple hours.”
“Looks like you have time then.”
Phillips raised an eyebrow and Leon felt his heart skip a beat at his own brazen remark. He nodded to Phillips and turned to leave through the main entrance, missing both the look on Phillips’ face and Wesker standing on the balcony above, leaning on the polished wooden railing and watching Leon leave with a small fond smile.
Rain was spitting against the bus shelter as Leon drew his jacket around him. Raccoon City wasn’t known for its efficient public transport system, and Leon often found himself getting home very late thanks to a slow driver who didn’t care for following the schedule. He stepped back from the curb to avoid getting splashed by passing vehicles and looked up as a dark car stopped in front of the bus stop. Its tinted windows rolled down and Wesker pushed his glasses up to his forehead, fixing his gaze on Leon.
“Were you serious?”
Leon frowned, staring at Wesker in slight disbelief, getting the sense that seeing his Captain outside the confines of the R.P.D. was somehow wrong.
“What?”
Wesker checked his rear view mirror as a car squeezed past him, then he turned back to Leon. “Earlier. You said I should photograph you,” he said in an unreadable tone. “Were you being serious?”
“I- uh- I guess, maybe?”
“Maybe?”
Leon fiddled with the zipper of his bag between nervous fingers and licked his lips.
“Yeah, I mean, sure.”
Wesker kept his gaze for a few moments and Leon felt the sensation of being appraised. Then Wesker adjusted the glasses back over his eyes.
“Hop in.”
“Now?”
“Obviously now.”
Wesker rolled up the window without another word.
Leon wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Wesker’s home. He’d honestly never begun to imagine the space Wesker occupied after work. Leon had almost fallen asleep on the rainy drive, head leaning against the window, staring at the street lamps as they made their way out of the city center and into the suburbs. Wesker hadn’t made much conversation and after a while he’d put on the radio which had an even more soporific effect than the rain.
The sound of the car door slamming shut on Wesker’s side roused Leon from his daze. Leon was used to heading home to his own small apartment where the pipes rattled and the water was always cold, so to him Wesker’s modest house seemed like a mansion. Wesker unlocked the front door and ushered Leon in, reaching for his shoulders to take his jacket which he hung up on a hook in the hallway.
“Drink?”
Wesker had taken off his boots so Leon followed suit, placing them neatly in the shoe rack. Wesker was already striding off down the hall towards the kitchen leaving Leon to follow him like a nervous stray.
“Oh, no,” Leon said quickly. “I have work tomorrow.”
“So do I,” Wesker replied with a wry smile. He took a beer from the fridge and cracked the top with a bottle opener. “You sure?”
“I shouldn’t really. Should I?”
Wesker shrugged and took a sip from his own bottle. “I could get you some water,” he suggested
“That would be great. Thanks.” Leon licked his lips again. His mouth and throat were dry so water did seem like the better option. Wesker filled a glass for him and then led him away from the kitchen into the living room. Leon was aware of how close they were, the casual surroundings lending an air of intimacy that was different to the lofty halls of the R.P.D. and when Wesker laid a careful hand on Leon’s elbow it felt entirely natural.
“Where do you usually take your pictures?” Leon asked, looking around the living room. “Do you have a studio or something?”
“I like to take situational photographs,” Wesker said, taking a seat on the couch. He crossed one leg over the other and took a long drink from his beer before continuing to speak. “I’m not attracted to a manufactured studio feel, I much prefer something more natural.”
Leon glanced at the art that was hung on the walls and the closely trimmed plants sitting on the mantelpiece. Not a photograph in sight.
“Do you display them?”
“Some of them.” A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Not here though.”
“Where?”
Wesker set his drink down on a coaster and stood. “Come. I’ll show you.”
The stairs and upstairs hall were carpeted, muffling the sounds of their padded feet, and Leon felt like each of his tense breaths was audible in the silence. Wesker had pushed open a door and gestured Leon inside. Now Leon was coming to realize he was standing in Wesker’s bedroom and Wesker was standing right beside him, his form filled with so much ease and confidence in comparison to Leon’s own trepidation. He took Leon’s elbow again and led him closer to the bed, gesturing to the wall beside the bedside table. Leon’s eyes flicked over the photographs that were framed in a collage there, a small breath hitched in his throat and Wesker’s hand felt hot against his skin.
“I hope I haven’t offended your delicate sensibilities,” Wesker said with mild amusement as Leon tensed beside him.
“Oh.” Leon’s voice was soft. “It’s just-”
“Not what you were expecting?”
Leon was far from offended at the sight of naked men. In fact, it made his cock twitch in a way that made him tense his thighs in embarrassment and sent a flush up to his cheeks. The men weren’t just naked, but also wrapped in layers of rope, fastened in secure knots that formed intricate patterns across the skin. Leon took a step forward to take a closer look at one of the pictures as Wesker stood back to let him get a good view.
“Is that-…?”
Pale rope stretched in symmetrical lines across a muscular tan chest, winding down to strong thighs, a wrist tied to each one. A beautifully vulnerable and wanton expression adorned a handsome yet usually stoical face.
“Yes, it is.”
“He looks so…” Leon trailed off again.
Wesker chuckled. “I fear I’ve rendered you speechless.”
Leon swallowed. Wesker didn’t just want to photograph him. He wanted to tie him up with intricate knots and then photograph him. Leon would be lying if he said the thought didn’t excite him.
“It helps if you stretch first,” Wesker said, touching a hand to Leon’s shoulder. “I know you’re flexible, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Wesker helped Leon to stretch out his arms and legs, then he instructed him to strip, so matter-of-factly that Leon obeyed without really thinking.
“You can leave these on,” he said, a finger trailing along the waistband of Leon’s briefs. “I wouldn’t expect that much from you on your first time.”
“Oh, sure.” Leon tried not to sound too disappointed. His cock was already half-hard at the promise of being restrained, Wesker was bound to have noticed, and now it seemed unlikely that it would be touched at all. “Now what?”
“Stay nice and relaxed.” Wesker touched Leon’s upper arms, running his fingers across his back and shoulders as he walked in a slow circle around him. “I’ll be doing most of the work.”
He came back round to face Leon and gave him an encouraging smile. Leon let out a soft exhale.
“I just stand here?”
“Unless I tell you to move.” Wesker took hold of Leon’s wrists and pressed them together in front of him. “Keep these here.”
He proceeded to wrap a length of rope around them, cinching them until they were nice and snug, palms together. He ran two fingers under the rope to check that Leon had enough wriggle room then gave the rope a sturdy tug. Leon’s breath hitched in his throat. Even the small amount of restraint was quickening his heart beat.
Wesker continued to slip rope across Leon’s chest, waist, shoulders, until a criss-cross pattern ran down the front of his chest all the way to his abdomen. Wesker slipped a hand around a coil of rope resting in the small of Leon’s back and pulled, guiding Leon backwards into the center of the room. The vulnerability of being maneuvered at Wesker’s whim sent another spark to his cock and Leon closed his eyes and focused to avoid shivering in response.
Wesker’s methodical movements with slender fingers and firm hands were hypnotic and insanely arousing for Leon. Every so often he’d brace a warm palm against Leon’s bare skin as he tested the give of a knot and the soft touch made Leon feel like he was about to explode.
He wriggled a little, testing the tight feel of the rope wrapped across his chest and experimentally tugging at his wrists. Wesker stood back for a moment to admire his work and nodded in approval.
“Comfortable?”
“Yeah, actually.” Leon’s throat felt dry again and it was an effort to speak. “Surprisingly.”
“Just something a little simple for your first time.” Wesker reached forward to trace a finger along the silky rope that trailed down to Leon’s thighs. “It suits you.”
Despite the vulnerability of it, Leon felt safe and secure, held firmly by the ropes and gently moved by Wesker’s purposeful hands. Wesker was attentive, deliberate, focused, and the display of competence made Leon feel weak at the knees.
“You look very fetching.” Wesker gazed at the flushed skin of Leon’s bare chest that was visible between the lines of rope.
“I do?” Leon cleared his throat.
Wesker smiled and went to fetch Leon’s glass of water, left on the bedside table, and brought it back to him. Leon reached out with his bound hands, but Wesker gently pushed them away.
“Allow me.”
He put a hand at the nape of Leon’s neck and supported him while he drank. Leon finished the glass, but it wasn’t enough to quench the dryness in his mouth that Wesker caused simply by standing near him.
“Thanks,” Leon murmured, licking his lips as Wesker drew back.
“My pleasure. Are you ready for the next step?”
Leon nodded, trying to seem casual and not too eager. He so desperately wanted Wesker to think he was cool and collected, though that ship had likely long sailed.
Wesker disappeared behind him for a moment and Leon heard the sound of a drawer opening. He turned to see Wesker holding a strip of black fabric draped across his hands.
“What’s that for?”
“Turn around.”
Leon obeyed and in the next moment soft silk was pressing against his face, covering his eyes and blindfolding him. Wesker tied the blindfold neatly behind his head before touching Leon’s cheek gently with the palm of his hand.
“Is this alright?” Leon’s mouth had gone slack jawed, lips parting as Wesker’s fingertips brushed against the flushed skin of his cheeks. “Not too tight?”
“Yeah…” Leon said softly. “S’fine.”
“Good.”
The material of the blindfold was thin and let in a little light, but Leon could only make out hazy shapes. He could tell that Wesker had knelt in front of him by the rustle of fabric at his feet, and he felt a coil of rope winding snugly around one ankle. Wesker stood again and took Leon’s bound hands, pulling them away from his chest.
“Keep these here.”
Wesker secured rope to the knots already binding Leon’s wrists. The gentle tugs that Leon couldn’t pull away from constantly reminded him of his own bare vulnerability. He was defenseless, completely at Wesker’s mercy, but he didn’t feel unsafe in the slightest. It went unsaid that he trusted Wesker completely, his bold and handsome Captain who had never led anyone astray.
Wesker moved behind him and Leon felt his wrists tugged upwards, the rope pulling until they were above his head. The rope continued to pull until there was little give and Leon was stretched onto his toes. Wesker tied off the rope then came closer to hold one of the connecting knots of Leon’s harness, holding him steady as he readjusted his feet to get a better balance.
“Still comfortable?”
Leon held his breath, existing in the sensation of being held steady by the mass of beautifully twisting ropes and tight knots. It was a strain to hold himself like this, ropes pulling on his arms, calves tensed, feet trembling slightly. But it wasn’t painful, so he nodded in response to Wesker’s gentle probing.
“If it gets too much for you, tell me.”
Leon sensed Wesker bending down beside him again and a moment later there was a tug on his ankle. Wesker pulled the rope up taking Leon’s foot with it, securing the end of the rope to the ceiling. Leon’s back arched in response, curved and taut like a ballet dancer. He struggled for a moment to maintain balance on one foot and he made a small noise of panic until Wesker’s firm hands steadied his hips and held him in place.
“Relax,” Wesker murmured, closer to his ear than Leon had anticipated. “You don’t have to hold it for long.”
Leon concentrated on not stumbling. Even though the ropes tugging his wrists and ankle up to the ceiling would keep him from falling, the pull was still harsh on his skin.
There was a rustle of fabric as Wesker stepped back and Leon suddenly felt extremely exposed, feeling like he was on display. He heard the click of a camera shutter and a shiver ran down his spine.
“Stay still.”
Leon held his breath. The thought of himself immortalized in this vulnerable position for Wesker’s personal collection threatened to short circuit his brain. Wesker moved closer to him again, this time putting a hand on his chin and tilting it up, his thumb brushing against Leon’s bottom lip.
“Open. Just a little.” Leon’s lips parted slightly. “That’s it. Perfect.”
He wondered if Wesker had noticed his hard cock pressing against the fabric of his underwear. Of course he had, and the thought made Leon shudder again. Then he dared to imagine Wesker reaching out to touch it, sliding his fingers into the waistband, soothing the ache. He squeezed his eyes tight shut behind the blindfold and shook the image from his mind.
“Go back to what you were just thinking about.” Wesker’s voice was a low drawl. “You were making the most wonderful expression.”
Leon squirmed. His mind drifted back to the image of Wesker touching him, stroking his cock, leaning close, bodies pressing together, kissing him-…
“That's it.” Leon could hear the smirk in Wesker’s voice. “I think I have everything I need.”
There was a moment’s stillness before the rope above his head shifted and Wesker was holding his ankle, carefully guiding it back down to the ground. His wrists followed and then Wesker set about untying the knots fastening Leon’s chest harness together. Leon reached up to pull the blindfold from his eyes, but Wesker stopped him with a firm hand. Once all the rope had been removed, Wesker reached to undo the knot at the base of Leon’s neck himself, allowing the strip of silk to fall from his eyes.
Leon blinked hazily, his half-lidded eyes adjusting to the light.
“How do you feel?”
“Uh…”
“Transports you to another place, doesn’t it?”
Leon nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I guess. It felt good.”
Wesker smiled. “I always find it rather relaxing.”
“To tie someone up?”
“To be tied up.”
Leon’s brain short circuited and he blinked.
Wesker smiled again. “It was very kind of you to offer to be my subject.”
“Y-you’re welcome.”
There was a pause that hung heavy in the air as Leon wondered if it would be appropriate to fall to his knees and beg Wesker to touch his cock.
“Can I see them?” He blurted out instead.
“They need to be developed first. I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.”
“You’re gonna take them to work?”
“Of course. Don’t worry. I never leave them unattended in the darkroom, and when they’re not in there they’re safely locked in my desk.” Wesker gestured to the pile of Leon’s clothes still resting on the end of the bed. “You can put those back on now.”
Leon wanted Wesker to grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed, holding him down and fucking him hard into the pillows. He wanted Wesker to grip his hard and desperate cock and release him from the aching torment he’d felt ever since he’d first laid eyes on Wesker that fateful day in his office.
Instead he picked up his jeans. “Oh. Oh right, yeah,” he mumbled weakly, wondering if he’d missed his window of opportunity.
“Take your time.” Wesker turned to leave the room, pausing in the door frame. “I’ll call you a cab.”