Tendon and muscle stand out under the skin of his neck, his stomach, his arms as Leon fights being pushed flat on his back, fights when his wrist is caught and pinned down, his lips pursed into a tight grim line. He catches himself waiting — maybe, for the blunt head of his cock to skim over his mouth sticky with spit and pre, thinking over whether he should reach for it himself, press the issue with a hand wrapped it — screws open one eye. It's in time to see his hulking shadow looming closer; Leon's other hand snaps out to slap his palm against the swell of his broad chest.
He growls in discontent as he feels the wet muscle of Krauser's tongue on his face, only to tilt his chin up into the grasp of his thick fingers, chasing Krauser's scarred mouth. It's hard, hungry, punishing enough that his lips feel hot and bruised when Leon invites his tongue in past them; he remembers the needy sound Krauser used to make when he'd kiss him with the taste of him still in his mouth and Leon's fingers dig into his pectoral, head lifting off the ground like he might climb him.
It's not enough.
Leon kicks up a leg and misjudges, there's nothing solid to meet his shin so his heel crashes back down into the undergrowth, the dirt. He swings it instead until his knee knocks against Krauser's hip, lands lower behind his knee where he hooks his ankle behind his knee. He lacks the leverage he needs to move how he wants. Wrapping his arm around the back of Krauser's thick neck, he tightens the muscles of his core to lift his hips off the ground, uses his leg hooked around the back of his thigh to swing himself to swing himself a little more in line with the bow of his larger body. It almost puts him directly beneath him, except that's as far as he can get. Krauser's scarred lower lip is caught by Leon's teeth before he lets go, sounds frustrated when he gives him one growling word: "Sit."
no subject
He growls in discontent as he feels the wet muscle of Krauser's tongue on his face, only to tilt his chin up into the grasp of his thick fingers, chasing Krauser's scarred mouth. It's hard, hungry, punishing enough that his lips feel hot and bruised when Leon invites his tongue in past them; he remembers the needy sound Krauser used to make when he'd kiss him with the taste of him still in his mouth and Leon's fingers dig into his pectoral, head lifting off the ground like he might climb him.
It's not enough.
Leon kicks up a leg and misjudges, there's nothing solid to meet his shin so his heel crashes back down into the undergrowth, the dirt. He swings it instead until his knee knocks against Krauser's hip, lands lower behind his knee where he hooks his ankle behind his knee. He lacks the leverage he needs to move how he wants. Wrapping his arm around the back of Krauser's thick neck, he tightens the muscles of his core to lift his hips off the ground, uses his leg hooked around the back of his thigh to swing himself to swing himself a little more in line with the bow of his larger body. It almost puts him directly beneath him, except that's as far as he can get. Krauser's scarred lower lip is caught by Leon's teeth before he lets go, sounds frustrated when he gives him one growling word: "Sit."