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Description
Leon/Claire

Spending Christmas Eve together.  NSFW.

"Leon?" I breathed.

He glanced up at me, head tilting up from its resting position on the arm of the couch.

The blankets fell away from him as he sat up, his lips slowly widening into a smile.

"What are you doing here?"  I was dumbfounded.

"Well I was hoping to catch that guy who keeps stealing my cookies every Christmas," he said with a smile.  He swung his legs over in front of the couch and sat up, patting the space beside him.

I paused, still unable to believe that he was actually sitting before me.  He seemed so different than when I saw him just a year ago.  Perhaps it was the season, the spirit of the holiday, the warm glow of the treelights on his face. He was wearing a dark green turtleneck that almost seemed to make him disappear, and all I could focus on was his face.  His beautiful, warm face and his soft hair turned a radiant gold in the light.  I moved to him and sat by his side.

Immediately he leaned on me, head on my shoulder as he gazed at the tree, heaving a contented sigh.

But I tensed.  Never can I remember Leon being so outright affectionate with me.

"Christmas eve always brings back the best memories for me," he said wistfully.  "When I was a child, my mother used to keep my brother and I up until midnight every Christmas.  She said if we were good boys all year, any wish we made at midnight would come true."  He chuckled.  "She always had a hard time keeping us awake for that long."

He paused, eyes unfocused as he allowed himself to become lost in memories.  I finally started to relax as he continued.

"Back then, I used to wish for toys or candy or fun trips to amusement parks.  I can't say I wish for the same things now, but it's become such a treasured tradition for me."

I said nothing, taking in what he said.  I couldn't help but smile at the thought of young Leon, eyes sparkling with delight as he wished for his favorite toy.  Wishes… what would I wish for?  If only I believed in wishes and magic.  I would wish for him in a heartbeat.  As though he was reading my thoughts, he nuzzled closer to me.

"So how about this year?"  I asked him playfully.  "Have you been a good boy?"

"I think so," he said, looking at me.  "And I already know exactly what I'm going to wish for."

"And what's that?"

"Mom always said that if I tell anyone what I wish for, it might not come true," he teased with a smirk. He paused.  "Claire?"

I glanced down at him.

"Will you make a wish with me?"

I supposed I would humor him.  What harm could it be?  "I don't see why not.  I hope I've been good all year so it'll come true."

"Claire, you're always good."

I felt my cheeks color at his words.  "It's midnight."

Leon sat up, taking my hand in his.  "Close your eyes and make a wish," he whispered.

I did as he said, closing my eyes and wishing as hard as I could for the one thing I wanted so badly.  I wished for him.  Imagined myself with him, in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, contentment in my heart.  Squeezed his hand with the sheer effort of it, smiled when he squeezed back.  Everything I ever wanted was right here beside me, literally in my hands, and as I scoured the depths of my mind wishing and hoping, I felt him shift beside me.  And suddenly, just like that, his warm lips were on mine.

My first thought was that this couldn't be happening.  Absolutely no way in hell was Leon Kennedy actually kissing me.  I froze, thinking frantically what I should do before he seemed to do the thinking for me, hand reaching up to cup my cheek as my racing thoughts swiftly became a dull roar.  I leaned into him, his lips parting over mine, and my thoughts vanished altogether, overcome by the sensation of his tongue caressing mine.  And then suddenly I was making out with the man of my dreams.

His kiss was slow and deep, like the baritone call of thunder before a downpour.  His lips, soft, moist, rolling against mine, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me as close as he could before he slowly eased me against the arm of the couch.  I felt my heartbeat quickening as I found myself beneath him, my mind quickly jumping to scenarios that this couldn't possibly be going to.  I wanted him, wanted him so badly, still wishing for him even as his tongue swept over mine and I dared not tell him he was going too fast.

What did too fast even mean?  Why not just cut to the chase and get on with it?  Weren't the seven years I spent longing for him good enough as far as courting was concerned?  I sighed into his mouth, slinking my arms around his shoulders to keep him close as he broke the kiss for just a moment.

"I wished for you," I blurted out.  His smile was like the romance of snow, and he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

"I said you're not supposed to tell," he said with a quiet laugh.

"But I… I just…"

"I wished for you too," he whispered, leaning in to sweep me into another kiss.

My mind reeled with his words as he melted into me, hands caressing my neck, my shoulders.  Lips wandering down to the hollow of my throat and then further still.  I gasped as I felt hands ghost over my breasts, fingertips moving lower to tease the hem of my shirt.  I suddenly needed to beat him to it, and just like that my shirt flew somewhere into the darkened reaches of the room and I immediately began clawing at his.  He chuckled as he parted from me, peeling off his turtleneck.

I didn't even hear it hit the floor, my gaze, my touch, was fixated on him and his beautiful physique.  His skin against mine felt like heaven, warm like a fire on a cold night and irresistibly soft and smooth.

And slow.  He was slow with me, prolonging the moment.  Slow, like his tongue rolling over my breast and slow like his fingertips dipping below the waistband of my pants.  But it felt like time was racing by.  At some point he lost his pants and at some point I lost mine, and there I was, rubbing myself on him and clutching him as close as I could get him as he penetrated me.  Slowly.

He eased my hips up just slightly with one strong arm to deepen his angle of penetration and I was absolutely lost, head falling back against the arm of the couch and lolling to the side.

In all my fantasies of this man, I had imagined many things.  I'd imagined him sweet and slow, rough and dirty, and everything in between.  But now that this was finally happening, I didn't care.  He did the thinking for me, and he was exactly what I needed.  His hips rocked against mine with sensual deliberation, experiencing every inch of me with each deep thrust.  His quiet moans and gasps were all I could hear, strong hands holding my hips firmly even as I undulated against him.  Every thrust was like a sweet kiss of pleasure and I wrapped my legs around him, grinding on him with everything I had because oh my god he just felt so damn good, feverish skin damn near stuck to mine as my chest heaved with each euphoric sensation, unable to silence my own cries of pleasure.

My orgasm was like a neverending rush of heat coursing through my body, igniting my senses and blinding them all in one go.  I lost all perception of the outside world as it ripped through me, and he felt it too.  Gripping my hips so tight I thought they would bruise, he quickened his pace, racing to catch up to me in this euphoric wonderland where nothing existed except me and him and maybe the couch we were fucking on.  Every slam of his hips felt like a blinding shock of sensational ecstasy and I dimly registered the raising of his voice, his guttural gasps becoming satisfyingly louder as he came.

His heat was suddenly suffocating as he collapsed atop me, breathing heavily, his energy spent.  After a few moments, he withdrew.  Standing up, he offered me his hand with a warm smile.  And I fell into bed with him, spellbound, he pulled me close and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Claire."

------------------------------------------------------

My eyes snapped open.  Daylight was pouring in through the window, intensified by the sun reflecting off the oceans of white snow.  A white Christmas morning.  I smiled, elated, content, bursting with happiness to share this moment with Leon.  I rolled over, ready to greet him with a kiss.

He wasn't there.  No sign of him.  Not even a divot on the pillow where he would have rested his head.  I was alone in my bed, wearing my pajamas.

Of course it had been a dream.  I would never be so lucky as to finally share my feelings with Leon, much less make love to him on Christmas eve.  I rolled over with a sigh.  It was seven in the morning, Chris and Jill wouldn't be by until at least ten.  I decided to go back to sleep.  Maybe if I was lucky, I would fall right back into my wonderful dream.  Clutching close to my teddy bear, a gift from Chris years ago, I drifted back to sleep, back to the land of dreams, with hope to see him again.

Description
Leon/Claire

Spending Christmas Eve together.  NSFW.

"Leon?" I breathed.

He glanced up at me, head tilting up from its resting position on the arm of the couch.

The blankets fell away from him as he sat up, his lips slowly widening into a smile.

"What are you doing here?"  I was dumbfounded.

"Well I was hoping to catch that guy who keeps stealing my cookies every Christmas," he said with a smile.  He swung his legs over in front of the couch and sat up, patting the space beside him.

I paused, still unable to believe that he was actually sitting before me.  He seemed so different than when I saw him just a year ago.  Perhaps it was the season, the spirit of the holiday, the warm glow of the treelights on his face. He was wearing a dark green turtleneck that almost seemed to make him disappear, and all I could focus on was his face.  His beautiful, warm face and his soft hair turned a radiant gold in the light.  I moved to him and sat by his side.

Immediately he leaned on me, head on my shoulder as he gazed at the tree, heaving a contented sigh.

But I tensed.  Never can I remember Leon being so outright affectionate with me.

"Christmas eve always brings back the best memories for me," he said wistfully.  "When I was a child, my mother used to keep my brother and I up until midnight every Christmas.  She said if we were good boys all year, any wish we made at midnight would come true."  He chuckled.  "She always had a hard time keeping us awake for that long."

He paused, eyes unfocused as he allowed himself to become lost in memories.  I finally started to relax as he continued.

"Back then, I used to wish for toys or candy or fun trips to amusement parks.  I can't say I wish for the same things now, but it's become such a treasured tradition for me."

I said nothing, taking in what he said.  I couldn't help but smile at the thought of young Leon, eyes sparkling with delight as he wished for his favorite toy.  Wishes… what would I wish for?  If only I believed in wishes and magic.  I would wish for him in a heartbeat.  As though he was reading my thoughts, he nuzzled closer to me.

"So how about this year?"  I asked him playfully.  "Have you been a good boy?"

"I think so," he said, looking at me.  "And I already know exactly what I'm going to wish for."

"And what's that?"

"Mom always said that if I tell anyone what I wish for, it might not come true," he teased with a smirk. He paused.  "Claire?"

I glanced down at him.

"Will you make a wish with me?"

I supposed I would humor him.  What harm could it be?  "I don't see why not.  I hope I've been good all year so it'll come true."

"Claire, you're always good."

I felt my cheeks color at his words.  "It's midnight."

Leon sat up, taking my hand in his.  "Close your eyes and make a wish," he whispered.

I did as he said, closing my eyes and wishing as hard as I could for the one thing I wanted so badly.  I wished for him.  Imagined myself with him, in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, contentment in my heart.  Squeezed his hand with the sheer effort of it, smiled when he squeezed back.  Everything I ever wanted was right here beside me, literally in my hands, and as I scoured the depths of my mind wishing and hoping, I felt him shift beside me.  And suddenly, just like that, his warm lips were on mine.

My first thought was that this couldn't be happening.  Absolutely no way in hell was Leon Kennedy actually kissing me.  I froze, thinking frantically what I should do before he seemed to do the thinking for me, hand reaching up to cup my cheek as my racing thoughts swiftly became a dull roar.  I leaned into him, his lips parting over mine, and my thoughts vanished altogether, overcome by the sensation of his tongue caressing mine.  And then suddenly I was making out with the man of my dreams.

His kiss was slow and deep, like the baritone call of thunder before a downpour.  His lips, soft, moist, rolling against mine, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me as close as he could before he slowly eased me against the arm of the couch.  I felt my heartbeat quickening as I found myself beneath him, my mind quickly jumping to scenarios that this couldn't possibly be going to.  I wanted him, wanted him so badly, still wishing for him even as his tongue swept over mine and I dared not tell him he was going too fast.

What did too fast even mean?  Why not just cut to the chase and get on with it?  Weren't the seven years I spent longing for him good enough as far as courting was concerned?  I sighed into his mouth, slinking my arms around his shoulders to keep him close as he broke the kiss for just a moment.

"I wished for you," I blurted out.  His smile was like the romance of snow, and he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

"I said you're not supposed to tell," he said with a quiet laugh.

"But I… I just…"

"I wished for you too," he whispered, leaning in to sweep me into another kiss.

My mind reeled with his words as he melted into me, hands caressing my neck, my shoulders.  Lips wandering down to the hollow of my throat and then further still.  I gasped as I felt hands ghost over my breasts, fingertips moving lower to tease the hem of my shirt.  I suddenly needed to beat him to it, and just like that my shirt flew somewhere into the darkened reaches of the room and I immediately began clawing at his.  He chuckled as he parted from me, peeling off his turtleneck.

I didn't even hear it hit the floor, my gaze, my touch, was fixated on him and his beautiful physique.  His skin against mine felt like heaven, warm like a fire on a cold night and irresistibly soft and smooth.

And slow.  He was slow with me, prolonging the moment.  Slow, like his tongue rolling over my breast and slow like his fingertips dipping below the waistband of my pants.  But it felt like time was racing by.  At some point he lost his pants and at some point I lost mine, and there I was, rubbing myself on him and clutching him as close as I could get him as he penetrated me.  Slowly.

He eased my hips up just slightly with one strong arm to deepen his angle of penetration and I was absolutely lost, head falling back against the arm of the couch and lolling to the side.

In all my fantasies of this man, I had imagined many things.  I'd imagined him sweet and slow, rough and dirty, and everything in between.  But now that this was finally happening, I didn't care.  He did the thinking for me, and he was exactly what I needed.  His hips rocked against mine with sensual deliberation, experiencing every inch of me with each deep thrust.  His quiet moans and gasps were all I could hear, strong hands holding my hips firmly even as I undulated against him.  Every thrust was like a sweet kiss of pleasure and I wrapped my legs around him, grinding on him with everything I had because oh my god he just felt so damn good, feverish skin damn near stuck to mine as my chest heaved with each euphoric sensation, unable to silence my own cries of pleasure.

My orgasm was like a neverending rush of heat coursing through my body, igniting my senses and blinding them all in one go.  I lost all perception of the outside world as it ripped through me, and he felt it too.  Gripping my hips so tight I thought they would bruise, he quickened his pace, racing to catch up to me in this euphoric wonderland where nothing existed except me and him and maybe the couch we were fucking on.  Every slam of his hips felt like a blinding shock of sensational ecstasy and I dimly registered the raising of his voice, his guttural gasps becoming satisfyingly louder as he came.

His heat was suddenly suffocating as he collapsed atop me, breathing heavily, his energy spent.  After a few moments, he withdrew.  Standing up, he offered me his hand with a warm smile.  And I fell into bed with him, spellbound, he pulled me close and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Claire."

------------------------------------------------------

My eyes snapped open.  Daylight was pouring in through the window, intensified by the sun reflecting off the oceans of white snow.  A white Christmas morning.  I smiled, elated, content, bursting with happiness to share this moment with Leon.  I rolled over, ready to greet him with a kiss.

He wasn't there.  No sign of him.  Not even a divot on the pillow where he would have rested his head.  I was alone in my bed, wearing my pajamas.

Of course it had been a dream.  I would never be so lucky as to finally share my feelings with Leon, much less make love to him on Christmas eve.  I rolled over with a sigh.  It was seven in the morning, Chris and Jill wouldn't be by until at least ten.  I decided to go back to sleep.  Maybe if I was lucky, I would fall right back into my wonderful dream.  Clutching close to my teddy bear, a gift from Chris years ago, I drifted back to sleep, back to the land of dreams, with hope to see him again.