a/n: the main part is set two weeks after the ending of ID, the entire piece is ultimately set 20 years after it. I haven't written in a very long time, this fic should've been written right after ID but real life is a bitch. i'm very rusty, there probably are typos, feedback is encouraged.
the plot is basically oh no i accidentally fell on top of my handsome friend who i love and am straddling his leg again, what now
title is from the song "never tear us apart" by inxs
(my most personal favorite cleon song in a very long list of cleon songs i have in my head)
hope you enjoy!!
Ten years from now, it won't matter.
Ten years from now, they'll look back at the events of this day and she'll catch his sly smirk and pretend not to know what day it is.
that big fight they had what were they even arguing about?
Ten years from now he'll ask her exactly that, just because it makes her roll her eyes and stuck his tongue out at him. It'll be his fault, all part of his plan to make her confess her feelings, his grand scheme.
(there is no scheme)
Ten years from now, she'll get up from their bed, wearing one of his navy blue shirts and her favorite pair of underwear--cotton, pink in color. Simple but enough to make him fall to his knees. Her hair will be mess, long again. He'll stare and remember their first night out of Raccoon City, when they set camp at a motel miles and miles away from the city. He'll remember how she let her hair down for the very first time while Sherry, still a child, asked him if she was a princess and he nodded at the beaming little girl, her eyes shining like they didn't just escape from a nightmare.
Ten years from now, he will say he moved too quickly that night, that they hadn't talked in two weeks and they had never spent so much time apart. Even with their demanding jobs, they'd still text each other. Sometimes it'd be a simple "still alive?" folllowed by either a thumbs up emoji from him or a devil's horn emoji from her.
Two weeks of radio silence from the one he adored the most. She wouldn't alleviate his self-inflicted blame. Too headstrong and stubborn. So much so that he would find it weird if she admitted to any kind of overreaction on her part.
Ten years from now the events of that day will carry the meaning and weight of everything, divinity coursing through her veins, shining so bright it would fill the cracks of the guilt on his body. As if she had taken him and glued the broken parts back together with gold.
She didn't need him to be perfect, flawless.
She just needed him.
The truth, however, is a secret between them.
The truth that he caves first. The silence is excruciatingly loud, the reason for his overthinking, the reason for his migraines.
Her absence can't be filled by anything or anyone else, only her.
It's then that they meet at this fancy hotel, the kind that leaves little mints on the pillows for the guests, and the matress is so soft it makes one feel like they're floating.
On the edge of that matress, she sits, avoiding his gaze as he tries to explain, sitting on the leather chair close to the window.
"You'd be hunted for the rest of your life, Claire," he says.
"It'd be my choice."
"Okay, sure, and then you get in your car only for it to explode-'"
"Do you really believe I'm that incompetent?" she says, standing up abruptly, angry and offended. "You think I wouldn't be careful? I can handle myself. And you know that! You know that and that makes all of this so much worse".
He's about to respond when he sees the red in her eyes, the tears she holds back by turning to face away from him again.
This isn't about the chip, he realizes.
This isn't about the chip at all.
But when she turns and takes a step in his direction right before he can stand up, she falters.
He catches her, of course he does, he catches her and suddenly she's on top of him while he's still sitting on that chair. It's an awkward position at first, she places her hands on his shoulders to keep herself steady and his hands go to her waist. She's straddling his right leg, and he tries to move to adjust her better, flexing the muscles of his thigh and pulling her closer.
That's when he hears it. Well, to be fair, he's not sure if he hears it first or sees it first; the blush on her cheeks, the hand she brings to cover her mouth as if that can take back that whimper.
They stare at each other for a few seconds, and he knows he can put their entire friendship at risk here, he knows he can ruin everything but the hands on her waist tighten and he makes her move toward him, his lips part in surprise when she closes her eyes at the friction, sighs his name and rolls her hip back and forth slowly.
Almost in a trance.
Then she stops, looks at him and apologizes.
"No, don't," he says, still keeping her in place. "Keep going. If you want to, I mean, I can help, I can always help you."
When she doesn't protest, he proves it by helping her move back and forth, he can't stop staring, he's not even sure if what's happening is real, but she looks so beautiful, drowning in her bliss even though he's already so hard, god, so hard he could come in his pants like a boy, right there on the spot, just watching her getting so lost, moving faster, those whimpers turning into moans.
"Leon..."
He's scared to breathe, scared he'll wake up alone, without her warmth, her gentle voice, without her left hand going back to his shoulder as her right one snakes down his body, fingers curling the fabric of his shirt, and when he thrusts up out of pure instinct, she drops her head to his shoulder, face turned to take a look at him, baby blue eyes sparkling as if he's made of celestial dust, and he's so scared this is a dream. But then everything changes when she drops her right hand to his pants.
She gasps, feeling him like this, he hisses at the contact, wincing in a mixture of pleasure and pain. It spurs her own, she's grinding on his leg a bit slower, staring at her hand, the bulge on his pants, she's hesitant but he knows her, he knows her so well.
"Pull it out," he says with a strained voice. "Use it, just use it, it's yours."
Such confession makes her heart leap with joy, they still belong to each other, he's hers and she's his, meant to be, his beloved, trusted companion, who is always with him. His one constant, his peace.
So she does as he says, unbuckles his belt with precision, undoes the button of his pants, unzips it and holds his cock through the fabric of his boxers, makes him moan and throw his head back, and she feels her ego inflate when she takes notice of the large wet spot that starts nearly at the top of his boxers and spreads down to the middle. She's salivating without realizing it, hungry for him.
When she finally pulls his cock fully out, holds it in her hands, feel how wet and slippery it is with all the pre-come, she strokes him slowly, on purpose, and he thrusts up again. "Claire..." he barely manages to say and she knows it's a warning--if she keeps this up, he won't last. But looking at him, at his cock, she also knows she won't be satisfied with just rubbing herself on him, no, the ache and need are too great for her to ignore.
She gets off of his lap for a second, pulls her own pants down along with her soaked panties, lets it all rest just below her knees, all under his watchful gaze, his eyes widening at the scene, his hand stroking his cock as he looks at her, he's always known she was beautiful, but this is so different, this makes him finally understand the angel wings on her back all those years ago.
He lets go of his cock and reaches out for her, impatient, makes her sit on his lap, positions his cock right between her pussy, but she stops him, lifting her hips, grabbing his cock and guiding him to her entrance. Before he can say anything, she sinks down onto him, carefully and slowly just to mess with him, but she can't smile at her own antics because when he bottoms out, they both moan at the same time, her body moving forward so she can rest her forehead on his, stare into his eyes, she swears she can see little galaxies in them.
"Are you sure?" he asks. This is much better than what he was expecting but he doesn't want her actions to be guided by lust alone.
"Never been so sure in my life," she states, already using his shoulders for support as he holds her waist to help her move.
It starts pretty much the same, her hips moving back and forth with his help, until she halts, legs trembling, strained. "Fuck, you're so big," she says, practically hugging him. "Leon, please, please, you're so big and I--"
Her sentence is cut short when he thrusts into her, just one thrust before he asks: "Like this, sweetheart?"
The pet name makes her melt. She readjusts herself so her hands are on his chest and she can get a better view at how utterly lost, awestruck and on the edge he looks. His cock is so hard, she knows he's close, she is too, she's so damn close.
She nods, caresses his face with adoration, he has no idea how handsome he is, and that's part of the charm. "Just like this, please," she begs like a a feral kitten turned docile.
But he doesn't move right away. Instead, he asks, "Is it okay if I kiss you?"
And that's it, that's what breaks the tiny bit of grudge left, that's what makes her cry, what makes him panic, ask if it's hurting, if they should stop, but she shakes her head, gets her emotions under control but when she speaks, her voice is still shaky.
"Dork," she starts. "You're inside me and asking if it's okay to kiss me? Of course it's okay. It's always okay if it's with you-"
Their first kiss is desperate, frantic, even when he starts to move, to fuck her just like she wants, he doesn't shy away from her lips, not for a long moment, one that's spent swallowing her moans snd trying to hold himself back from coming. Unfortunately, they need to breathe, but when they back away, his lips are still an inch away from hers.
"I've missed you so much, I've missed you everyday, " he says, planting small kisses here and there even though he's panting, he feeling lightheaded in the best way possible.
"I've missed you too," she says, silent tears running down her cheeks, "Being mad at you is the most exhausting thing I've ever done, you don't know how much I 've missed you, I don't ever want to fight with you again."
The relief he feels upon hearing those words is so tangible that she feels his shoulders relax, but the grip on her waist only tightens. He kisses her again and again and fucks her while saying, "Then let's never do that again, I was just trying to keep you safe, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I can't lose you, not you, never you",
And in between moans, in between silent screams, she manages to say he will never lose her, she's with him forever and she clenches around him, "I'm gonna come," she lets out in a gasp, "I'm gonna-"
And she comes so hard she brings him with her, delighted to hear him groaning like that, filling her up without warning, a new sensation as she milks him dry.
She falls into his embrace, his hands letting go of her waist to hold her, press her close even though there's a bit of shame forming in his chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...to...I should've asked, should've warned you--"
She gives him a genuine but tired laugh, his shame dissolving right away. "Leon, it's okay,"
"Yeah?"
"Mm-hmmm. In fact, do you wanna know a secret?"
"I'm a little scared but yes", he says, jokingly.
She laughs again, backing away from him slightly to look into his eyes.
"You're the only man who has ever finished inside me. The only one. I never let anyone else."
His breath hitches at the revelation, he wants to ask if she's joking but he knows she's not, she wouldn't joke about this.
"And you're the only woman I've ever done thst with," he admits, a bit of that boyish energy reappearing, as if time has taken them back to when they were still young and full of hope.
He captures her lips again, going soft inside her, but never once letting go.
Twenty years from now, he'll ask her if she remembers that big fight they had.
And she will answer:
"What fight?" with a coy smile decorating her pretty face.
like, sherry literally happened to them, they weren't planning on finding a little girl much less one asking to be adopted but she happened to them and they love her a lot for happening to them, just for existing and being theirs, somehow
but when it comes to pregnancy, there must have been a discussion about, you know, bringing life into a world that runs on secrets and fear and bio weapons and they know there are literal monsters out there
and you'd think claire would break first but she's reasonable
meanwhile leon gets baby fever and he waves and and smiles at every tiny little human they sometimes see when they go out. claire does the same but leon talks about the baby they just saw as if he had truly witnessed a miracle.
and it tugs at claire’s soft spot for kids that she tried to keep balanced for so long because, you know, world is shit with bio weapons, virus, hell, world is shit with no virus too
but the dork does it, his baby fever triggers claire’s and it's sort of unspoken. they don't use condoms but she's always been on the pill. and he knows exactly at what time she takes it, so when she doesn't, he reminds her, genuinely thinking she forgot
but she says she didn't, really, forget. and they have this little moment until it clicks and he's on top of her, asking if she means what he thinks she means
because maybe that was the plan, had there been no outbreak, that would have been the plan all along once they exchanged their very first kiss, leon would have just known she was the one.
dorks in love with baby fever. god help us.
somebody pls help me convert my headcanons into actual fics, i'm rusty and exhausted and full of cleon family feels
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