Chapter 3

A/n thanks for the reviews and the feedback, please keep them coming, it encourages me to write! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Would you like a dance? You're sure looking lonely."

The building smelled like a mixture of smoke and cheap perfume, with the slightest hint of sweat underneath it all. It smelled like a place where adults go to do bad things, things they probably wouldn't tell their significant others about.

"Let me make you feel good, honey."

The man at the bar was lazily pouring drinks, tendrils of smoke billowing from his nose and out of his mouth where his teeth clamped the cigarette. He smoked Reds, like any good outlaw ought to do. All that was missing was an eye patch or a scar running down the man's face and he would be set. Chris felt the hot current of addiction coiling through his body, his lungs burning for a smoke. He could practically feel it on his lips.

"Come on, don't you think I'm pretty? Don't keep me waiting."

In his lust for a cigarette he had almost forgotten the woman slowly writhing in his lap. He turned his attention back to her, Candy or Cherry or some other bullshit moniker. She had long ago lost the small purple lingerie top that she had on and her ample breasts were pressed against his chest, her perfume filling him as she whispered in his ear.

"I bet it's hard to handle a big strong man like you, but I think I could make it work."

She had snaked her hands under his shirt, her delicate fingers tracing his abdomen and slowly dipping dangerously lower, the tips of her nails grazing his pubic hair.

"And if you wanted me to bring a friend I could. Just say the word."

She laughed as she dug her hands deeper into his pants, the shrill sound like diamonds breaking hard on the floor. Chris grabbed the dancer's hand and slowly pulled it out of his pants, then grabbed her by her tiny hips and moved her off of him. His erection was embarrassingly obvious in his pants but he figured that it didn't really matter, considering what type of joint he was in. She shrugged and walked away, moving onto the next person with a stiff cock and a wallet of cash. He looked around again, noticing the cigarette holes in the carpet and the broken down stage for the first time. Under the music he could hear the faint sounds of moaning coming from the 'VIP room'. He felt disgusted.

'Never thought I'd find Chris Redfield wasting away in a shithole like this!' That's what he had said to him on that day that felt like lifetimes ago. Piers was right, he shouldn't be attracted to these places, places where things were done in the dark and with people who would cut your throat for a quarter. For some reason places of vice had always attracted him, whether it was a whore house or a bar or a casino. He was like a moth to a flame, always drifting towards them and then being inevitably burned. He laughed softly. 'If only Piers could see me now.' The thought brought a fresh wave of the white-hot sadness back so strongly that his breath caught and he felt his throat close. He waited until it passed and then he stood, and left. He had no tab at the bar, even though he would have liked to, because it seemed wrong to drink now. Not after Piers finding him a drunken mess, and not after his encounter with Leon. There was nothing more he wanted than to drown himself in booze, forgetting everything and finally getting the pain to stop.

The air outside of the club was fresh and crisp, autumn obviously settling in. It felt good to be outside. After his briefing with the President he had just gone walking around the city, feeling like an outsider. He didn't have any home to go to, not even someone who he could ask to take him in. He knew he could have asked one of his men for a place to stay and they would have happily accepted but he didn't want them to know that their fearless leader was a homeless and depressed basket case.

Chris continued to walk along the street, the occasional car passing by and causing the leaves to stir. From a few open windows he could hear children laughing as their parents tried to get them into bed. 'This is what I've missed out on all these years. I get to protect the world and then they get to forget about me.' He thought, feeling older than his thirty-nine years. He felt like time had passed him by, as if he had stepped outside of it and watched it go on without him. Now that he was back in the world, for the time being anyway, he felt like it was wrong, like he had no business there. His one link to life had been Piers and he had been taken away and now nothing could ever make life whole again.

Chris pulled his phone out of his pocket and noticed that it was almost ten at night. He had to find a place to stay, probably some motel where he could sleep his days away until the next mission. He was lost in his thoughts, trying to remember what motels were around, when he heard a car following behind him. His back tensed and he reached into his pocket, mentally damning himself for only having a pocket knife. He quickened his pace, warming his muscles for action. The car then honked, causing Chris to jump and turn around quickly, pulling the knife out of his pocket and flicking it open in one fluid movement, his legs fixed in a broad stance.

"Ready to pounce? It's sad when we can't even walk down the street without thinking we need to be on guard, you know" said a voice from the open window. Chris let his guard down and walked over to it, already knowing who it was.

"What are you doing Leon? I'm trying to get somewhere."

The younger man looked at Chris as if trying to determine his next move, the right words to say to a man who seemingly hated him.

"You left your shit in my car, thought you might need it." He said as he gestured towards the back seat. Chris could see the outline of his pack and loathed himself for completely forgetting about it.

"Well I guess what they say about getting older is true." Chris stated flatly before going over to the passenger side and sliding into the seat. "Trust me, you're the last person I'd want to ask but mind dropping me off at a hotel? I don't care where."

"What happened to your house?" Leon asked, his brows pulled into a look of concern. He instantly regretted the question as he remembered Claire mentioning that her brother had lost the house, not because he couldn't pay but because he simply didn't. It was like he didn't care. "Don't go to a motel, fuck, just come stay with me for a day or two. I know you hate me but I owe you and your sister would kill me if you stay in a motel." He said quickly, trying to clear the air of the awkwardness his question had caused. The older man considered this for a stretch that felt like an eternity and then he emitted a sigh of defeat.

"Fine."

For a man who appeared so proper, his clothes always wrinkle-free and his hair always straightened into place, Leon S. Kennedy had a surprisingly messy apartment. Chris looked around as Leon locked the door and began to put his things away.

"It's a dump, sorry. It didn't used to be like this, but after.. well, I'm sure you understand."

Chris nodded his head. He did understand, he understood more than anyone else in the city probably did. They had both come out of that disaster scarred and with pieces of themselves missing. Every disaster took away another inch of them, every fight and every death hardened them more than they had originally thought possible. Yeah, he understood.

"It's not bad. My house was worse. Well, you know, you saw it." Chris said, the memory flooding into him like an unwanted rainfall, the black anger once again rising. Anger at himself or at Leon he no longer knew.

"Yeah, I did. Well the other bedroom is over there, it's got everything you need but you can ask if you need anything. I have to meet with Hunnigan early. Night." Leon murmured as he all but rushed into his bedroom, softly closing the door. Chris walked into the bedroom, surprised at how clean it was compared to the rest of the apartment. It was obvious that it hadn't been entered in months. He threw his pack onto the floor and flopped onto the bed, appreciating how soft it was. He hadn't slept on a proper bed in months and his back was already thanking him. He was glad that Leon had decided to just go to bed and not bother him, talking about that night wasn't helping either of them. It was better to just let it go.

Chris turned to his side and felt the weariness in his body. It had been a hard few years and he wasn't young anymore. No doubt the BSAA would be calling him up within the week with a new mission that they needed him for. His body had to be ready but as he felt the aches in his lower back he knew that he didn't have many more years in him before he had to give it up completely. He closed his eyes, staving off the thought, and drifted into sleep with the lamp still shining and his clothes and shoes still on. For once his sleep was uninterrupted by dreams, uninterrupted by that smile that seemed to haunt him at every moment.

When he woke from his slumber he looked at the clock and saw that it was one in the morning. Chris sat up and shook his head, damning himself for sleeping in his clothes. 'That's why I woke up, not very comfortable to fall asleep in your shoes.' He thought and then began to undress, prying the old clothes that hadn't been washed in days off his sore body. He stripped down to his boxers, almost hating to be dirtying Leon's clean sheets with his dirty body, when he heard the slightest hint of a sound.

He stood still, trying to gauge where the noise was coming from and what it was exactly. A faint, stifled moan came out of the silence and he caught his breath. He knew Leon hadn't brought anyone to the apartment, he would have heard that. He walked to the wall that was shared between the rooms and put his ear against the cool surface, listening.

From the wall he heard the unmistakable sound of hitched breath, the shuddering moans and quiet grunts of pleasure. He let out a shaky breath, instantly knowing what Leon was doing in the room next to him. He pressed his body closer to the wall, trying to soak up every sound even though he knew he shouldn't and would probably regret it. Another moan escaped Leon's lips and Chris felt his cock harden at the sound, his body suddenly aching to be touched. In his mind he knew exactly what Leon's face looked like when he was touching himself, the way he panted as he stroked his cock, practically begging for release. Chris reached his hand down into his boxers, grabbing his own erection, the sudden sensation almost too much already. He used his other hand to brace against the wall as he listened to the sounds coming from the other room, his mind bringing up images of Leon stroking himself.

He pumped his fist up and down on his cock, panting, wanting so badly to barge into the next room and force Leon's head on his erection, remembering that moist mouth enveloping him, the younger man's tongue toying with him and causing him to shake. He continued to listen, the sound of skin slapping on skin now audible. Leon was close. Chris picked up his pace, imaging Leon's delicate features scrunching as the orgasm came on, picturing the hot come that would drip down his knuckles like a kiss.

Chris pumped twice more and then he felt the orgasm hit, sudden and hard, the fluid catching on his boxers and dripping down his leg. He instantly felt the regret he knew was coming and he rushed into the bathroom to clean himself up. He sat on the lid of the toilet for a moment, calming his breathing and collecting himself. He could only hope that Leon didn't hear him pleasuring himself, it would only add another layer of difficulty to the shit storm of problems they already had. Chris stood and walked back into the bedroom, changing into a pair of clean boxers, noticing that his legs were still shaking. He lay down on the bed, finally turning off the light. He shut his eyes and tried to sleep but all that came into his head were the images of Leon naked, Leon touching himself, Leon's eyes begging for a helping hand. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the images, knowing they would do no good.

Sleep finally settled in, and for the first time he didn't dream of those escape pods and that haunted smile.