“That all you got, rookie?” Krauser’s face was pushed down into the makeshift pillow, but even muffled by padding and rough cotton, he still sounded smug as fuck. How did he do that? Leon’d never know, but fuck, if it didn’t work every damn time.
He stifled a growl and took hold of Krauser’s hip, shoving the bunched fabric of his pants further down so he could grip flesh.
There was a reason he always kept his strap and cock stuffed into the bottom of his pack - carefully hidden by a false bottom of course - and it was for these precise moments: downtime while they waited for shit to actually happen on missions to whatever godforsaken hole of a place they got sent to. He’d got proficient in slipping it on over the top of his pants, Krauser unable to wait for Leon to even remove them, half the time.
And though they both kept their knives close for other reasons, well, they were rapidly finding out the benefits of other uses for them.
Leon’s hand went to the small of his back where his knife was sheathed horizontally. A permanent and comfortable weight, it slid out of its home with a whisper and Leon felt Krauser stiffen beneath him, ears perfectly attuned to the sound of it.
“Now that’s more like it,” Krauser growled into the pillow.
“Shut it, Krauser.” Leon slapped the flat edge of the knife across the swell of Krauser’s ass, grinning at the sound of metal against flesh.
Krauser shuddered backwards, pushing Leon’s cock deeper inside him, which in turn ground the front of the harness against Leon’s clit, forcing a shivery gasp from his lips.
“If you’re gonna keep moving, I’m not gonna carry on.” Leon gripped Krauser’s hip harder, digging his fingers in. “Your choice, Major.”
“What, afraid you might cut too deep?” Krauser turned his head and glared back at Leon. “I can take it, you know I can. Fuck me with your cock and your knife.”
“Or what?” Leon slapped the other side of Krauser’s ass with the flat again, harder this time. “Seems to me that I’m the one with all the power right now.”
Krauser opened his mouth to growl some other bullshit, and Leon applied the very tip of his knife to flesh, scoring a thin line of blood diagonally across that round swell of ass, cutting him off more effectively than anything else could. The words turned to a growly moan, and Leon felt Krauser’s thighs twitch with the effort of holding himself still.
“That’s good,” Leon breathed. He rocked his hips, sinking deeper into Krauser, knowing from the jump of muscle beneath him that the ridged head of his strap was rubbing in all the right places.
Another roll of his hips, in and out, leisurely in the way he knew drove Krauser insane, and he rewarded him with another cut, this time across the other side of his ass. Blood sprang up in the wake of his blade, and Leon couldn’t take his eyes off it, watching fascinated as he dug the very tip into the end of that line even as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper, slow and slow, hot flesh parting around blade and silicone, Krauser taking him in like he was born to it.
He realised he was groaning and bit back the sound with a soft “fuck!”
“It’s-” Krauser panted, face back buried in the pillow, “it’s all about control, Leonnghh-” The name was drawn out as Leon rolled his hips again, twisting the tip of his knife.
“Oh, I remember what you taught me, Major.” Leon pulled the knife from Krauser’s flesh, then traced the tip down the side of his spine - not enough to cut, just enough that he’d feel it. “I remember every single lesson.” He pressed the point right at the top of Krauser’s ass, just where the cheeks parted.
“I could carve my name into you,” he murmured dreamily, the idea sending a rush of blood to his crotch that had him rocking into Krauser deep and hard enough that it sent him juddering forward.
No witty comeback at that - not even a smug declaration of how well his Major had trained him. Just a muffled growl and a shifting of hand beneath him that Leon knew meant Krauser had taken matters into his own hands.
“You like that idea, don’t you. Fuck.” It was an insane idea, one that they both knew he wouldn’t actually carry out, but goddamn if the thought of it wasn’t a pretty image.
Instead, Leon pulled out almost all of the way, holding himself at an angle which forced the ridged head of his cock to rub right up against Krauser’s g-spot. He moved his hips in a circle, not pulling out or pushing in, just rubbing and nudging as he applied his knife in quick, tiny cuts, painting Krauser’s ass with red red lines, one score at a time.
The amount of friction and pressure against his clit built heat there, tingling through Leon’s body to his toes as a soft wave of orgasm took him, breath coming in shallow, jerky spurts.
He felt Krauser tense and move beneath him, heard the quickening of his breath as he tugged himself off, and before he could think better of it, Leon dug his fingers into the cuts he’d left behind at the same time as he sank his knife a good three centimetres into Krauser’s ass.
It drove a sound like a keening beast from Krauser, cut off by the slap of wrist against mouth as he bit down on it. He shoved backwards, impaling himself to the base of Leon’s cock, the impact of it rocking the knife hard enough that the toothed edge bit into him.
Leon had enough presence of mind to pull the knife up before it caused any more damage. He dropped it to one side and pulled Krauser against him by the hips, snug and tight enough that he could grind in tight, hard little circles, smearing blood everywhere, its salt tang scent filling his nose as Krauser’s wet, muffled grunts filled his ears, sending him groaning into another orgasm.
Krauser collapsed beneath him, shuddering through the aftershocks. “Fuck,” he groaned into the bed, and then, louder when Leon collapsed on top of him, “fuck!”
“Yeah…” Leon’s breath came hard, and he had to take a moment to just lay there on top of Krauser while his legs recovered. The straps of his harness dug into him over his pants, and he knew from experience that the o-ring and buckles would be digging into Krauser’s bare skin.
Not that Krauser ever complained about that kind of thing, and frankly it was a good look on him. The buckles had hard, squared off corners and edges, and they made some serious indentations in skin. Fun to play with, much like the buckle of a belt used as a hard whip.
The scent of blood rose to his nose again, and Leon rolled off Krauser with a groan, bending to examine his handiwork.
“Good job we’ve got a medkit with us,” he murmured, tracing the cross-cross cuts with reverent fingertips. He skirted the very edges of the biggest cut - definitely more of an actual wound, that one - hardly daring to believe that he’d made it. “You don’t think this could be dangerous? What if one day we cut too deep, or nick an artery.”
Krauser snorted, looking back at Leon from where his head rested on the crook of his arm, his big, crooked nose pressed against his huge shoulder. “Rookie, it wouldn’t be half as good if it was safe. You know that as well as I do.”
“Hmm.” Leon pursed his lips, but he couldn’t exactly deny it - the physical reaction of his body alone would make a liar of him. “Probably need to sew this one, though.” He brushed the edges of the wound, eyes darting up to meet Krauser’s as he hissed, thick muscles of his legs twitching in response.
“Then sew it. It’ll be good practice.”
“Your pack’s gonna hurt against all this, when we move out.”
“Good. It’ll be a nice reminder.” Krauser’s grin was evident from the crease of his eyes, even though his mouth was hidden by his arm.
Leon felt his face heat up, but he couldn’t hide the grin in return. Something to think about, every time he was behind Krauser, every time his shirt rode up from whatever exercises they were doing? Yeah, it would be a nice reminder.
“I’ll get the medkit then.”
“Take your time with it, rookie. Weather’s still ass outside, we got plenty.”
“Shit Major, you gonna start jerking it while I’m sewing you up? Do you want to look like Frankenstein?”
“Frankenstein’s monster.” Krauser’s face pressed down into his arm, his mussed and damp hair falling forward over his eyes.
“Huh?” Leon turned back from rummaging in his pack, medkit in hand.
“Frankenstein’s monster.”
“Whatever.” Leon picked the curved needle from where it’d been stuck through the fabric of the medkit lid, threading it carefully with some suture thread. “Didn’t realise you read.” He put the needle between his lips while he tore open a foil packet, pulling out a folded square of antiseptic wipe soaked in herb mixture.
“What else is there to do on campaign? Can’t be jerking off every minute of downtime, you know.” Krauser hissed as Leon carefully wiped the blood from his ass and lower back, leaving behind a film of green that would help the shallow cuts heal faster.
“Guess you got a point.” He screwed up the wipe and dropped it next to the medkit ready for disposal, then took a deep breath and started to sew. The light was dogshit, but he managed well enough - leaving a row of stitches that wouldn’t have made the medics scream, at least.
After he’d tied off the suture thread, he put the needle carefully aside for disinfecting, then realised that Krauser had fallen asleep.
“What the fuck, Major,” he mouthed to himself under his breath. How could anyone sleep through being sewn up? Every day was a new fucking surprise under Major Jack Krauser.