Chapter Text
Life didn’t necessarily calm down after the incident with Glenn Arias and his particular, abominable strain of A-Virus, but it lulled enough that Leon could breathe. Just enough to be able to do things like tidy his apartment, somewhere he’d been living for about six months and still had barely touched the mountain of boxes that he’d lugged in when he’d moved. Or even just sit down at his kitchen table and take in a meal that wasn’t made of mostly fingers of whiskey, though it certainly wasn’t by any means anything fancy he ended up eating, it was enough to feel full and sated by it. Too many times in the last couple of years he’d not even found the time to eat properly, taking his time. Living on rations and energy bars on the go.
It certainly felt odd to be able to do those things without the worry of his phone going off with the news of some new atrocity committed in the name of some rich asshole with a penchant for death, but after a couple of months after the death of Arias, a certain sense of normality (or as close to as someone like him could get) began to creep into his everyday life.
It almost didn’t surprise him when he received a text message from Chris Redfield, informing him that he’d moved into the area recently too.
God only knows where he’d acquired his number from. He didn’t remember giving it to him at least?
And how he knew where Leon was living was also a complete and utter mystery.
A slightly worrying one.
Leon had held the phone close to his eyes though, scrutinizing the message, wondering if this meant anything. But after a moment he swallowed around the lump that was forming in his throat, although as to why that was happening he wasn’t even sure, and fired back a message about if Chris wanted to perhaps get something to drink together. Celebrate the fact that once again they had managed to evade death. A mutual “not dying” drink. Something like that.
He chewed his lip. Phone balanced carefully on his chest as he laced his fingers over his stomach and stared into the middle distance. Although there was no need in the end to feel any sort of worry.
Chris replied in a minute and forty nine seconds (by Leon’s watch).
Chris Redfield: Sure. Couldn’t hurt.
---
With a quick wipe of his palm across the material of his jeans, the sweat that had gathered there on Leon’s hands was erased and he nodded as Chris set them down some drinks, not missing the way that the older man’s eyes caught his and it conjured images of the bar they’d last met at. It also conjured images of Chris’ furious face inches above his as Rebecca stood awkwardly to the side of them. He squeezed his hand around the glass bottle of his beer and masked the sudden onset of nervousness with a sip, sighing a little when Chris merely just smiled weakly back at him.
Perhaps they were really past all their previous unpleasantness.
Perhaps Chris had totally forgiven him for being a huge asshole.
Judging by the way they settled into a conversation that was so easy that Leon could have even forgotten the way Chris’ eyes had bored into him back at that bar, he had forgiven him.
It was almost a shock to the system to hear Chris smack a hand down on the table and full on belly laugh at one point as well, the sound surprising Leon so much that he ended up curling his mouth up and laughing along with him. He hadn’t even thought the joke itself was particularly funny, although if there was anything he still liked about himself it was his sense of humour, but he so rarely ever got a spare moment to even try and entertain people. It was nice though.
Pleasant. Normal.
His thumb nudged the sweating side of his beer and he paused as he watched Chris suck on his own beer, bottom lip tucked down and he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and glanced back at Leon who immediately averted his eyes. Cautious, but also astoundingly hopeful about this whole interaction. Who knew why Chris would even want to spend this time together, it could have all been some sort of stupid ruse to get back entirely into Leon’s good books and God only knows he could have a powerpoint project stashed on his phone to flip out and show Leon as soon as he’d had enough beers. Convince him into some sort of insane task force.
Who fucking knew.
“I’m glad you asked me if I wanted to come out.” Chris tapped a beer mat against the tired wood of the table, eyes searching for Leon’s until they clasped each other and Leon simply shrugged a shoulder in response, unsure of where this was leading.
“I owe you.”
Chris’ lips slipped into a smirk, “Yeah. You sort of do.” He waved down a waitress and ordered them another round before the first had even begun to be whittled down, “I appreciate it though. I’m sure you know how much it sucks to get relocated and have to turf up your life and start all over again in a new city.”
Leon’s eyes narrowed, mouth feeling weirdly sluggish as he asked quietly, “How’d you even know I was living here? And how the fuck did you manage to get a place here too.”
The smirk slipped straight off of Chris’ face and fell flat onto the table as far as Leon was concerned, and he watched as Chris fumbled through an explanation, “I mean—Well—” He huffed out a breathe and then smiled nervously at the waitress as she placed down their drinks and then wandered off again “—I’d just heard from a few people that’d you’d settled here a couple months ago and I was needing to move out of my old place for security reasons. Just thought it might be somewhere safe. Just for a little while.”
Leon’s eyebrows raised, “You sure you’re not just going to be keeping tabs on me? Reporting back to some boss I don’t know about who wants me to work for them? I told you. I’m not joining the BSAA.”
“No!” Chris’ voice was raised and he winced after he’d semi-shouted that, continuing a little quieter, “No. Jesus. No.” The grip on his beer was tight, “I just thought that after everything it was maybe in my best interest to—I don’t know—Make a friend.”
“A friend?” Leon’s voice was incredulous and it sent a splash of colour across the highs of Chris’ cheeks that had a smug feeling leaking through Leon’s sternum.
“What? I can’t have friends?”
“I just didn’t think we were friend material.”
“Why’d you invite me out for drinks then?” Chris’ reply was breezy, though the flush still plastered across his face was another story.
Leon considered this for a moment, rolling it around his head until he sniggered and tapped the lip of his beer bottle against Chris’, “Suppose you got me there.” He took a slow sip, glancing up through his eyelashes at Chris who squirmed in his seat, “Guess it’s time I make a friend too.”
The conversation lulled back into something a little less pointed after that, and by the time both of them were a few beers into the evening their mouths were looser and nervousness almost completely washed away with the alcohol. Soon they had even moved onto topics that Leon was sure both of them were almost writhing to get out in the open.
Those topics of course being the Arias mission and the fact that they had so many mutual friends in common that it was always odd to the both of them that they’d never properly worked together.
Leon hiccuped slightly, brushing his hair off his face and supplied casually, “Rebecca’s a sweet girl.” He paused, “ Woman. Sorry. Forget how old we all are now.”
“She’s only a few years younger than you.”
Leon huffed a laugh, rubbing at his eyes, “She’s got less crow’s feet than me.”
“You’re right though. She is sweet.” The smirk was back and Leon had to keep his eyes to his beer because as soon as he saw that stupid smile it was worming its way into his head and making him feel a little woozy, though that could have been the beers. He hoped it was the beers. “Not that’d you know about that. I’ve heard about the amount of women that turn you down, wouldn’t be surprised if Becca was included.”
Leon leant back against the booth, a laugh working its way out of him before he could stop it, “Jesus. Since when do you give a shit about what that woman does anyway? Me and her might be close.”
“Bullshit. I’ve known her since she was eighteen. She might as well be a second sister at this point.”
Eager to shift the conversation away, Leon sucked down another sip of beer and let it cool his insides before he had the chance to say something he might regret later, “Speaking of—” Finally, finally, he caught Chris’ eye line “—How’s your sister?”
The look that flashed across Chris’ face was so intensely confused that for a moment, even Leon felt a little baffled, “Thought you two were pretty close.”
Leon snorted, shrugging once more, “I guess.”
A strange silence hugged the two of them tightly for a second and judging by Chris’ face he was rubbing his brain cells together so intently in order to pick his words wisely and it didn’t surprise Leon that when he spoke, after having cleared his throat awkwardly, it was slow and calculative, “Hey. I’m glad the two of you are still friends after what happened.”
Leon stared at him.
Blinked twice.
Then muttered, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Chris just stared back and, bless him, he looked so terribly lost, “I thought that you were interested in her and it didn’t work out?”
The sip of beer that he had taken at the moment that Chris said that was inadvertently inhaled into his sinuses and he ending up spluttering and coughing, alcohol dribbling down his chin which he wiped away immediately, mortified, “Jesus, Chris! Absolutely not! She’s not even into guys. Surely you know that? Who told you that anyway?”
The red that streaked across Chris’ face was back and in full force and as he responded to that it was stammery and stupefied, nothing like the man that Leon had seen not too long ago, mowing down zombies with precisely timed movements and looking so fierce (and handsome) while doing it.
“I don’t know! One of my guys in Silver Dagger mentioned it once. Guess they’d heard something through someone else. I don’t know.” Chris’ hand wriggled up to rub at the nape of his neck as he added, “I never said anything. Didn’t really feel too good butting in to tell them my sister’s business with the whole...Not being into guys thing.”
Something about that had Leon perking up a little, maybe the idea that Chris was slightly more conscientious than he first would have thought. Not immediately mouthing off to locker room gossip about how his sister was a lesbian. He regarded Chris quietly, wiping his hand across his chin again, still a little damp from his coughing fit and his eyes flitted up to Chris’ as he watched him suck the beer from the side of his hand.
Interesting.
“Well.” Leon started, still focused on Chris’ gaze, “It’s not true. At all.” A sudden burst of shyness overtook him. Rippling down his spine and he sat up just a little straighter in the booth as he murmured, “I don’t really—I’m not—” He stopped. Took a breath. Then continued “—I don’t really go for women anymore.”
“Really? You ?”
Leon’s nose wrinkled, “What the fuck does that mean?”
The boldness crept back into Chris as the moments ticked by, “You’re famous amongst pretty much everyone for asking out women the second you meet them!”
Leon’s hand scrunched into a fist on the table, “You ever heard of compensating?”
Chris scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You’re saying that with those bangs? And you’re how old now?”
A cackle wormed its way out of Leon’s throat before he could stop it and he had to hand it to Chris, he almost had a point. Though he was venturing a little too far into this shit and was on the verge of Leon pointing out that his own bangs look like they’d been cut with a pair of children’s safety scissors. He withheld that comment though.
Immediately glad that he did as the silence that shouldered its way between their conversation was nudged out of the way by Chris supplying, voice a little strained as he spoke, “Me too.”
Leon’s head cocked, “Huh?”
Even Chris’ ears were red by that point, “What you said. About women. Not really on my radar either.”
“Ah.” Leon exhaled. He hadn’t expected that. “Cool.”
Neither of their gazes left each other’s for a second, both of them searching the other for some sort of tell-tale sign of where this might lead, but neither of them relented. Something that didn’t surprise Leon too much. They both were stubborn assholes when it came down to it. So he settled for clinking his beer bottle against Chris’ and attempting to smile as normally as he could despite the fact his stomach was clenching oddly,
“Yeah. Cool.”
When Leon got back to his apartment he immediately tossed his jacket onto an armchair, dodging the boxes that had accumulated over time and which he made a mental note to definitely tidy up at some point in case he had company.
His nose twitched up.
Why did he just think about that? When did he ever have company?
He scoffed at himself, trudging into the bedroom and shoving down his jeans so he could lie on the bed, head suddenly swimming with the beer he’d drank and he took a moment to swallow and stare at the ceiling as it swirled. He could have company round if he wanted. That company could be Chris. That wouldn’t be weird. They were acquaintances now.
He nodded into the empty room, seemingly happy with his own answer to himself and, almost without thinking, trailed his fingers down his hips. Middle and ring finger sliding down the peaks and valleys of his hip bones as he sucked in a shuddery breath when the material of his underwear stopped and the skin of his upper thigh made contact with his fingertips. It only took a moment for the idea of what Chris’ fingertips might have felt like against that same patch of skin to conjure itself into his head.
Probably a little more course. The pads would have been rough from slightly more hands-on work in the last few years than Leon had had, juggling guns and grenades and hand to hand combat. Not that his own were particularly soft or smooth, but he was sure that Chris’ hands were even more roughened from years of working in the field and the sick realisation that he desperately wanted to feel them wound its horrid little way around his belly until he had to dart his hand away from his thighs.
They’d always been soft and full and if he thought too long about it he might have wondered what would happen if Chris were to pull them apart and settle between them.
“Jesus.” His voice sounded strange and syrupy even to his own ears and he physically dragged himself from the bed in protest of his own incredibly loud thoughts.
A lukewarm shower and a huge glass of cold tap water was what he needed.
Not to think too deeply and drunkenly about Chris Redfield.
That didn’t stop him from wondering when the next time he could ask him out for drinks might be, as he stood against his sink and guzzled a glass of water, hand sliding across his chin as some dribbled onto it clumsily.
---
There was about a week of quiet for the two of them. After of course the first perfunctory text Leon sent the morning after they’d been out together, only feeling it was polite to let Chris know that he had a nice time and he wouldn’t be averse to going out another time. His hands had sweated the entire time he composed the text and he had stared at it for about two straight minutes before finally clicking the send button and had even managed to get startled by the text tone of the message being sent.
Stupid.
But then, work had called him back with a hurried wave of a hand. As had Chris’, presumably. Leon already having taken a flight up to Montreal and back again in that confined space of time, hunting very precise and allotted leads on the trail of an arms dealer that ended up amounting to nothing but headache and a quietly quick trip back home with Hunnigan shaking her head into the comms unit in annoyance.
But that was only two of the days out of the seven.
Often how life would find him these days. Hurried and life threatening one day, then stuck in an office feeling miserable and confined the next.
So Leon found himself less bothered with the way that Chris had opened his text and read but not actually responded, and more bothered with the fact that, after spending so long miserably sloping around a bar on “vacation” after what had happened with his team before the Arias mission, he now had a shit load of work to actually be getting on with and generally when you weren’t out in the field on ridiculous outings involving mutated beings, that meant that you were stuck in front of a laptop.
Which, controversially between himself and Hunnigan, was his least favourite thing to be doing ever . Even after the whole mishap that had landed him in that bar Chris and Rebecca had found him in to begin with.
So, Chris and himself simply had no spare time to encounter each other. Leon had barely even glanced at his phone in about six days and when he did it was to sigh at his bank balance and ignore emails from special ops teams that he swore he’d never deal with again. When he finally did get a moment to flop onto his couch, hair wet and dripping onto his shoulders from the scaldingly hot shower he’d just taken, he was a little shocked to find that Chris had finally responded to the text from the other morning.
His teeth dug into his bottom lip, chewing at it as droplets of clean water dripped onto the screen of his phone and he swiped them away with a careful thumb and read over and over again Chris’ response.
Chris Redfield: Shit, sorry! Kind of swamped right now and replying slipped my mind. I had a good time too though, man. Would love to do it again!
He had even left a little smiley face.
The ordeal of reading the message and then being presented with a smiley face from Chris Redfield of all people was enough to make Leon’s chest seize up and he felt almost obliged to pour himself a finger of whiskey to calm his nerves because this wasn’t normal. It made him feel like the police academy all over again. Twenty years old and full of foolish bluster and overcompensating on bravado until the moment he’d been slipped a letter from a guy that he’d never had more than a few conversations with in the dorm rooms.
Unlike reading and accepting Chris’ text of goodwill, an olive branch of friendship, Leon had opened the letter (the confession ), read it once, and then immediately balled it up and thrown it into the trash in his room as a sharp bolt of worry had shot through his spine at the prospect that this young man had thought he was “beautiful” (his own words) and Leon had no idea how to handle that.
Not that Chris’ text was anywhere near a sordid confession of interest in him. Obviously.
As much as he maybe wished it was.
He poured another lot of whiskey and swallowed it before he could dig deeper into that pit of thought.
As it turned out, by the seventh day, the pit had already been dug and was probably thousands of feet down because he’d awoken thinking about the time he’d been at a TerraSave conference Claire had set up, and lo and behold who had walked in but Chris. Something that he had almost kicked himself for not realising beforehand because of course Redfield was the BSAA’s golden boy and his dear friend’s brother too. Steeled and intelligent and well worn like a workhorse who knew its place but also stupidly kind and gentle with his sister in their interactions. Almost as though no time had passed between the two of them in between meetings.
He’d stalked into the reunion though, head held high and gun still harnessed to his chest and unfortunately for him it had been right around the time Leon had been having problems with a girl he’d been seeing on and off. Though by “seeing” he mostly meant he had been sleeping with her when he’d been bored and had trouble sleeping, something he felt positively horrible about when he looked back on it, though managed to lessen the mental blow of that by reminding himself it was the key step in realising that women did not do it for him.
It would never come out in conversation, or he hoped it wouldn’t at least, but the image of Chris waltzing into that room looking so huge and handsome and dangerous had been emblazoned into his brain and even the Google search he’d done late of “is it gay to think a man you respect is hot?” hadn’t really cleared things up.
As it turned out, being gay was gay.
So for years, Leon had hotly swirled around that particular image of Chris in his head, especially in the evening when he’d stretch a hand down into the fabric of his sweatpants. Chris’ arms crossed across his chest and a smug smirk on his face because he was totally untouchable at that point in his career, freshly back from Africa and lauded as some sort of super human, capable of righting the wrongs caused by the evils of Umbrella and its legacy. He knew he was hot shit and to Leon, he had been. This almost prophetic character that Claire had risked her life for and was spoken about in hushed tones between agents because everyone wanted to either be Chris Redfield or fuck Chris Redfield.
It had just taken a long while for Leon to realise that he was both those concepts.
When they had met again about six months later, Chris had seemed more tired, as if in the space of time between their last interaction he’d been worn down by the weight of what he’d been through.
Then, of course, there was their meeting in 2013.
Their fight.
He would never admit it to any living person but sometimes he thought about that fight and got himself off to the memory of Chris’ form pummeling into his over who he thought was Ada. The heavy slope of Chris’ body driving into him as they wrestled around each other was terrifying at the time, he knew how dangerous Chris could be in hand to hand combat by rumours and chit chat amongst agents, but for years after, it had also fuelled his jerk off fantasies too.
A groan worked its way out of his throat and he slapped a hand over his eyes, locking his phone and trying to push away the image of Chris looming over him and the smell of his sweat as they’d tumbled around back in China.
He’d text Chris back later.
In the meantime, he desperately needed to go to the store and restock his entire apartment because the way that he’d been living would have scandalized his mother if she had seen the state of his life and that was a lot coming from a man who often spent his days covered in viscera and general zombie gunk. Not that his mother had ever delved too deep into the details of those parts, she did however delve pretty deeply into the fact that Leon’s kitchen was often bare and he made a mental note to never tell his mother that he often went days without feeding himself properly. She was Italian. Very Italian. Not American-Italian. Italian, and would have killed him herself if she could if she ever were to find that out.
He nudged a box of utensils, that had been stuck there since he’d moved in, with his foot and clucked his tongue.
Chris could definitely wait for a response while he went to the store and attempted to sort out his shit show of a life a little.
Although, that idea was quickly dispersed as Leon rounded the corner of his local grocery store about forty minutes later, shopping basket in hand and grimace plastered tightly to his face because this was exactly the sort of situation he absolutely hated, and almost came face to face with a certain someone staring very intently at kitchen towels. Chris’ eyes squinted as he looked very focused at the package of towels in his hands and the breath that Leon was about to take became worryingly lodged in his throat as he flung himself back around the corner out of Chris' eyesight.
Peering out from around the corner of the aisle like some sort of creep only when he was sure that Chris hadn’t noticed his ridiculous display of secrecy and Leon did have to wonder how he’d managed to carve out a name for himself as a well respected secret service agent when he could barely keep his cool in a grocery store when he saw a man that, okay yes maybe, he had a school yard crush on.
His hand curled around the shelving unit, glancing out to where Chris was stood, hoodie and a pair of jeans on and a beanie pulled low to his brow as though he were trying to keep some sort of anonymity while he shopped, despite the fact that every day regular people would have absolutely no clue as to who he was and Leon doubted very highly that ex-Umbrella staff were going to be wondering around that particular store at 2pm on a Thursday afternoon.
You never knew though.
Chris looked good though. Casual and soft and Leon watched as he sighed and tossed the towels into his own basket and rubbed at his eyes absentmindedly, then pulled his phone out of his pocket to stare at the screen before he pulled a face. A face like he was disappointed with the outcome of that glance at his phone and Leon inhaled sharply because what if he was looking for a reply from him?
“Jesus Christ.” He muttered to himself, a little disgusted by how this entire situational friendship with Chris was making him feel like a giddy teen making heart eyes at the cutest boy in school who maybe once had vaguely smiled at them in science class.
Someone cleared their throat next to him.
He cast his head around to the side, finding a girl with a completely downturned frown glaring at him with a bundle of cans ladened in her thin arms, obviously straining to hold them and she nodded at the shelving he was leant on, “Do you mind?”
“Oh.” He almost leapt back, embarrassment seeping through him, “Sorry. Yeah. Go ahead.”
“Leon?”
Oh. Fuck. There went the idea to stay secreted away.
He made sure to plaster a cooly casual smile to his face as Leon turned to face Chris, willing away the sweat he could feel gathering at his hairline, “Chris! Hi. Damn. Didn’t know you shopped here?”
The basket in Chris’ arms was hefted into the crook of his elbow and Leon darted his eyes away from the swell of his bicep that it caused.
“Claire told me she’d hold a gun to my head if I didn’t go and buy some shit that wasn’t takeout or meal replacement shakes.”
If there was one thing about Chris that Leon found ever amusing it was his ability to condense everything into a single sentence and then completely leave it at that.
He nodded along though, wondering if he could dab at his sweaty forehead without Chris noticing but with the way his eyes were all but boring into Leon that idea was probably fruitless and he settled for smiling awkwardly and saying, “Is this as uncomfortable for you as it is for me?”
Chris’ eyebrows shot up, “This conversation?”
“No. God. Well, maybe.” Leon had to laugh at that, pointedly ignoring the way that the store assistant girl was gazing at them out of the corner of her eye, “The normal shit. Going out to a store. Buying bread and milk.”
Chris’ head bobbed in slow agreement, eyes softening as he realised what Leon was saying, “Feels like there should be something gross and oozing running after you, right?”
Leon beamed at that, a hand flying out as if to say EXACTLY and he almost stumbled over his words as he shot out, “Yes! Every time I do anything that any other regular guy would do I feel as though something horrible is about to happen to me. I ever tell you about this merchant I met in Spain? Would rather do all my grocery shopping through him than a place like this.”
When his eyes fell back onto Chris’ face he was grinning like he had a pretty good idea of what Leon was saying, shoulders loose and accommodating like perhaps he could have stood there for hours and listened to Leon rant and ramble about stupid shit if he really wanted to. Instead, he licked his lips and said slowly but purposefully, “I don’t think you have. But if you wanted, you could tell me about it the next time we grab a drink? I’m thinking Saturday evening maybe?”
Leon’s knees almost gave out under him.
“Sounds amaz— sounds good. Yeah.”
Jesus, could have handled that a little smoother.
But Chris just smiled in response, and Leon watched at the lines around his eyes scrunched up in happiness, mouth dry and basket risking falling from his hands if he didn’t focus all his energy in securing his hand around the handle as tightly as he was.
“Cool. I’ll see you then.” The basket was hefted into the crook of Chris’ elbow again and he gave a half wave in parting as he made his leave, Leon only tilting his head a little bit to assess Chris’ ass as he left, and then pointedly ignored the not very well suppressed snort that made its way out the shop assistant still stacking cans onto the shelf beside him.
Saturday rolled around without much fuss, the two of them meeting at the same bar as they had before and talking began to come much easier. As did eye contact. Long lingering glances between the two of them as they sipped on beer, then sipped on cocktails as an ever more tipsy growing Leon had pointed out that actually he was more partial to whiskey and drinks that didn’t taste like dirt and hops which of course had made Chris laugh and order Leon a Sex On The Beach with a big, stupid smirk plastered to his face as if that was a normal thing to do when you weren’t trying to fuck someone.
Much to Leon’s despair though, Saturday evening ended.
But then Wednesday night happened.
Then Friday.
Then the next Thursday.
Then the Saturday after that.
Etcetera, etcetera.
Chris piling on dates that he was free and, “Hey, did you wanna hang out tonight?” was a question that was now starting to become a regular occurrence in Leon’s phone, so much so that after a certain point he had stopped responding verbally and tended to just send emojis which he hoped had Chris smiling goofily in the way that he had come to realise he did after all the nights at the bar they had spent together.
His eyes would scrunch up and sometimes if Leon was lucky, his front teeth would show from between his lips and with the way Chris would react to that, it was if he was so unused to smiling that hard that he didn’t even know what to do with himself.
Blearily, after one of their nights out where a lot of alcohol had been consumed between the two of them, Leon had slapped Chris on the back as they walked to where Chris’ taxi had been and stated proudly, “I’m gonna make you smile like that more.”
To which Chris had looked a little perplexed, but then he had very lightly touched the small of Leon’s back and answered quietly with a strange smile that Leon hadn’t been able to place, “Just keep telling me those totally fucking horrible jokes you do then.”
It had become increasingly easier for the two of them to spend time together though, and when Leon had briefly mentioned it in passing to Hunnigan she had leaned conspiratorially forward in her chair and pushed her glasses a little higher up the bridge of her nose and stated plainly, “From what I could gather, the two of you are pretty well suited. You’re both pretty stubborn, and what brings people together better than the sharing of near death experiences.”
Leon had wrinkled his nose, coffee cup clasped in his hand, “You think I’m stubborn?”
Hunnigan threw up her hands a little, mock exasperated, “Are you going to ignore the rest of the statement?”
“I took it in!” He hid a sneaky smile behind the rim of his coffee cup as he took a sip, “You sure you’re not sore that I’ve made an outside work friend with him and not you?”
Hunnigan pulled a face and twirled her chair around to face her laptop, “Gag me with a spoon.”
So with that, their semi-regular evenings continued, as did the heated glances from over their drinks and Leon was adamant at one point Chris’ foot had bumped his under the table and when he had peered up at him, he had stared so intently at Leon that he had had to excuse himself to the bathroom so he could splash some cold water onto his burning flushed face.
It was only a month and a bit into this friendly little arrangement that they had going between the two of them that Leon had to regrettably say no to one of Chris’ patently polite requests to spend some time together. He’d been advising on a case, elbow deep in paperwork regarding it and he could physically feel his pulse pounding in the back of his eyes as he stared at his laptop screen. The office space he rarely used was completely devoid of anyone else, not even Hunnigan, as he trawled through case studies about deaths and strange occurrences and political dabbling into exploitative chemistry.
It was shit. Shit and tiring.
A stark reminder that he was good in the field. Good at assessing situations and saving lives, he wasn’t necessarily good at what came directly after it; sitting behind a desk and peering at a screen then at his keyboard then back to the screen again. He definitely didn’t want to get into how he had discovered in the last couple of years that he probably needed some kind of reading glasses too when he was looking at a computer or phone, that concept might have just tipped him over the edge entirely.
A reply to his previously sent message to Chris dinged onto his phone as he sat there, cheek propped on his palm and he immediately flipped his phone around so he could open the message, a welcome reprieve from the complicated jargon splayed across his screen.
Chris Redfield : That’s fine! Raincheck?
Then before Leon could even gather his brain power to reply, another was sent through.
Chris Redfield : Work?
He rolled his shoulders, squashing down in his swivel chair as he pressed the phone close to his face and tapped out a response.
Leon Kennedy
: stuck in the office with a bunch of shit i need to type up
Chris Redfield : Sounds shitty.
A moment passed.
Chris Redfield : Want me to call you to keep you company?
A lick of something struck up the centre of Leon’s spine as he read the message over and over, willing his eyes to pick up some sort of mistake in the text that would explain why Chris would want to go as far as to entertain him during a boring late night shift. Although, he already knew the answer to that.
Chris liked him. He was his friend.
Leon Kennedy : i’d like that
What the fuck was wrong with him?
He smacked his lips together, suddenly aware that he hadn’t taken a sip of water in about forty minutes and then the shrill sound of his phone ringing stopped that thought dead in its tracks and thank God this wasn’t a face to face conversation they were going to be having because he could physically see the way that his hand shook as he answered the call. Prodding the button for speakerphone and hoping that he could form a coherent sentence with the shock (thrill) of Chris giving a fuck about him.
“Didn’t think you were much of a paperwork kind of guy.” Chris’ voice was warm, accompanied by something in the background that Leon could only assume was music playing and it took him a second to answer because it always baffled him when agents like themselves had outside lives. Didn’t just go home and stare at a wall for a few hours before passing out and then waking up to fight fight fight all over again.
He sighed a little, mindlessly running his fingers over the keys of his laptop, “You think I want to be? Some of us actually have to follow up our shit and not just leave it for the little guys who fawn after them.”
Chris scoffed, “I don’t always leave it for the little guys. Not my fault that people see me and think, “Well that sure is a guy who can fight” and less, “That sure is a guy who can type one hundred words a minute”.”
“Most people couldn’t do one hundred.”
“Huh?” Chris breathed.
“I’m just saying. I think the average is about fifty or something.”
“I can hang up. It’s fine.”
A groan shifted from Leon’s throat and into the open and it was backed by Chris’ muffled laughter and did that ever make the hairs on the back of Leon’s neck stand on end. Pleasantly though. Very pleasantly.
“I actually could use some insight while I’ve got you cornered. More technicals and less grammatical structure, I’m sure you could at least give me a hand with that. Only if you’re not too busy though.” He brought up a separate document, barren of anything useful but if he could pick the mind of the BSAA’s special boy then he might actually get out of the office before the sun was coming up and that would have been a complete miracle honestly.
“I can try. I’m a little wiped out though so if I start making no sense, that’s why.”
Leon’s ears perked up, “You been out?”
There was a shuffling noise on the other end and Leon took a second to close his eyes. Think about what Chris’ apartment could have looked like with him taking centre place on the couch, comfy and secured as he stretched, phone tucked into the crevice of his shoulder where Leon would have loved to stick his face.
“Training. Got this intense set with the team as a preamble to something. Then it’ll be going out. Makes me feel a little rusty when I’m getting thrown more than I’m throwing though.”
Leon’s fingers stopped their clacking on the keys just enough for him to murmur into the phone, “That doesn’t sound very like you. Would have thought you would flip your lid if you didn’t come out on top.”
There was a beat.
“Do you wanna try that one again because actually, I think you could have done way better. That sucked, Kennedy.”
“I’m trying to type and crack wise with you.”
“Nothing about that was wise. That was unwise. What even was it? A gay joke?”
“No. Jesus. No.” He licked his lips, “Moreso a joke about how everything seems to go so well for you.”
“And it doesn’t for you?”
“You know what happened in Washington D.C.”
It was meant as a jibe. A little in joke.
Chris seemingly didn’t take it as one.
His voice was tight and strangely stern, as though he couldn’t quite work out how to tackle the topic, “You know that wasn’t your fault.”
Leon groaned, loud enough that it could be heard over the phone receiver, “Oh my God, I was not trying to roll out the pity party there.”
“You brought it up!” Chris all but squawked. “Sorry for not knowing what to say when you joke about your teammates all dying horribly.”
“Yeah. Apology accepted, asshole. Could you shut up and help me phrase some of this shit already? I know there’s wisdom lodged somewhere in that skull of yours.” A yawn crackled over the phone line and when it was finished, Leon added, “Only if you’re alright with that. I’m a big boy, I can probably handle it myself.”
“No. No, I’ll help. Always looks good to help the rookies. It’s what leaders do.”
“You wanna start jerking off back there to go with that ego stroking? Because you can but I’m gonna need monetary compensation for it if you do.”
“You know, my sister never mentioned your mouth being this fat or nasty whenever she’d bring you up.”
Leon grinned a little at that, “Probably because she likes me. And I like your sister right back.”
“What am I, chopped liver?”
“You’re helping me think of ways to describe, “We failed our mission! Sorry we’re just colossal assholes!”.”
Chris yawned again, voice a little slow as he bit back, “You could just go with that. Didn’t you help found the DSO? Who do you even answer to?”
“We’re a federal government agency so...America itself?”
“Are you gonna start typing or keep being awkward?”
“The Lincoln Memorial?”
“Leon—”
“The constitution.”
After a little while they did finally manage to settle into a rhythm together, Leon tapping away at his keyboards as Chris interjected ever so often with the sort of knowledge that only someone who had been leading a team for years would be able to muster. Focusing both their efforts into putting to paper a positive spin on the fact that the field work Leon had been out on task with hadn’t been as God awful as it actually had.
The chatter listed after a bit into a strange quietness.
Well. Not weird, just...different.
The sort of quiet that came with familiarity and Leon wouldn’t have necessarily pegged the two of them at that point in their relationship.
Friendship. Frienshipfriendshipfriendship.
It was comfortable though, settling over the both of them as Leon switched between documents and rubbed the inner corners of his eyes after glancing wearily at the clock and realising that could have been home by now if only he’d been successful in Montreal. Could have been home or sat in the bar with Chris as their knees knocked awkwardly together under the table and made the breath catch right in the back of Leon’s throat.
There was a muffled sound from the phone line, soft and fuzzy as Leon stretched his arms in front of him on the desk, bones creaking a little, “Hey. You good?” He managed to murmur it gently enough that the sleepy noise that he was rewarded with on the other end of the line wasn’t nearly as startled as it could have been.
“Mm?” There was the sound of shuffling from Chris’ end and Leon could only begin to hope that one day he would be able to see what Chris looked like when he was bleary eyed and falling asleep like the old man he was on his couch at home. Probably nested into the cushions with his head lolled to the side, soft and heavy.
“If you’re falling asleep you can hang up, it’s fine. I’m almost done anyway.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. He wouldn’t be done with anything to do with this particular case, but Leon wasn’t going to be hanging around the office much longer if he could help it. He could already feel the way his attention was waning and the momentary thoughts of his bed were growing increasingly desperate in his mind whenever they drifted by.
There was another rumble from Chris’ side, his voice slow and husky with sleep, cracking with a yawn halfway through his sentence, “Just trying to be helpful.”
Leon managed a groan at that, mostly at the fact that he absolutely could tell Chris was being sincere, “It’s alright. I’m really gonna finish up. Lord knows I don’t get paid the overtime ever.” He paused, “Chris?”
A faint snore made its way from Chris’ end of the phone conversation.
Before hanging up, Leon couldn’t help himself from sniggering, ending the call after an incredibly subdued, if he did say so himself, amount of time listening to Chris’ hushed snores. The sound of them doing something strange and fluttery to him. It twisted its way around his belly and then fizzled somewhere at the base of his spine and sat there until he was locking his front door and letting out the breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding the whole time.
His phone was out before he could stop himself, hands clammy and eyes a little manic as he paced about the living room before moving to the bedroom to pace a little more. All of which only cumulated in a pathetic text sent with shaking hands to Chris which, when he read it back the next morning, made him feel almost physically sick.
The text being a raindrop emoji and a check mark emoji.
Truly. Almost physically sick.
Why the fuck had he only sent Chris that?
The reply managed to get to him as he was stuffing a few things into a backpack, Hunnigan having contacted him about thirty minutes into Leon passing out flat on his bed and so then, he already had his duties to be shipped off again. Hopefully to right the wrongs of the complete disaster which was the Montreal intel reconnaissance, although this time, it was a little less close to home and Leon rolled his shoulders and stared sadly at Chris’ response because he had no fucking clue when he’d be back from this one.
Chris Redfield
: Sure, man. Whenever you’re ready. Sorry for falling asleep on you.
Leon Kennedy
: am i that boring?
Chris Redfield : Only occasionally.
---
The flight to Prague was miserable to say the least. Utterly tiring and the weather was equally horrific as he left Washington D.C, sky grey and bleak as he thumbed over the messages that had already been passed between him and Chris. Peering at them until he couldn’t bear to keep his eyes open and had to cast his phone out of his sight otherwise he would have found himself texting Chris to whine about being out of the country until further notice.
So, he didn’t bother. He had left his phone up until three days later when he wiped blood off of his hands, smearing it across the rain jacket he had on protecting him from the sheets of rain that had been pounding across the city for hours. Although, Leon had only encountered it when he had finally emerged from the tunnel system he’d been sprinting around after a single scientist who had holed himself down there with cages upon cages of fucking gerbils of all things. Infected with a tester serum derived from the A-Virus.
It felt odd to watch as the rain sluiced away the scientist’s blood as Leon flicked open his phone and clucked his tongue at Chris texting him again.
That was probably as close to a normal relationship as he was ever going to get and that made Leon feel woozy.
Chris Redfield : BSAA notified us that you’re out of the country. You good?
How was he ever supposed to answer that?
He’d spent days tracking a man through tunnels that he had no idea even existed below the more public tunnels that ran through the length of Prague, and then when he had finally found that man he had injected himself with a dud virus that had immediately turned him into less of anything Leon had ever encountered before in his many years of tackling BOWs, and more a feral beast that also unfortunately had lost a lot of its bone mass.
Sliding damply across the floor at Leon while rodents shrieked inside their cages.
Shooting the man-creature in the forehead had been a mercy killing and despite the fact Hunnigan had sighed deeply when he had informed her that the man was deceased, it was the best course of action. He’d managed to grab a sample of this faulty virus serum, tucking it into a carry case and then even had enough time to pinpoint the exact location of the makeshift lab, and as he had exited the tunnel in Troja, the cleanup team was already there. Discreet flamethrowers in hand and one of them had even slapped Leon on the back and thanked him.
His phone was still clutched in his hand as he secreted himself into an alleyway.
Leon Kennedy: i’m not dead if that’s what you mean, covered in blood though currently
Surprisingly, when you shot a man who was more goo than anything else, it did tend to explode all over you.
Chris Redfield: Your blood or someone else’s?
Leon paused. Then reread the text again.
Chris Redfield: All I’m saying is, I hope it’s not yours.
Leon was particularly proud that he managed to not choke on his own saliva as it went down the wrong way with the semi-gasp that overtook him as he read the text to himself. Caught in the whirlwind that was the realisation that Chris had contacted him to make sure he was alive and fine. He’d contacted him to make sure that while Leon was out of his sight, in another country, he hadn’t fallen victim to some completely over the top villain's plans.
Which, after the mishap in the tunnels with the gerbils , Leon almost wished it had been something a little more interesting.
He left the text for a while, sloping back to a safe house in the centre of the city where a man and his family lived, whom Hunnigan had assured him had been part of the BSAA’s European department and had fled the Eastern Slav Republic before the civil war, and was the most trustable source they had inside the city at that point in time. The man himself and the head of the family being Bogdan, who welcomed Leon in with a hushed wave of his hand and then asked almost immediately if he had wanted a shot of liquor.
After that, he’d decided that Prague was actually quite a pleasant place.
The couch he ended up on was comfortable enough that he’d managed to catch a few hours sleep before he’d awoken to a small child, Bogdan’s son Juri, staring at him at six o’clock the next morning and he smiled wearily at the child before he ran off into the kitchen, calling after his father that their guest was awake. He slipped his hand over his face as the little one left, shoulders tense as he pulled out his phone and finally responded to Chris’ text, counting back in his head to work out it should have been about midnight in Washington.
Leon Kennedy : it wasn’t my blood, not that i can go into specifics, obviously
The response was almost immediate and made Leon’s chest seize up.
Chris Redfield : You sure know how to keep a guy in the lurch when he’s worried
Leon chewed on the corner of his lip, worrying it as the sickly, hot feeling of guilt washed over him.
Leon Kennedy
: didn’t mean to worry you, had to get to the safe point and then i passed out almost immediately, after a few shots of vodka from my host
Chris Redfield
: It’s fine. I know how that shit is.
Chris Redfield : When are you back in the states?
Juri had sloped back into the lounge, a plate of blinis in his tiny hands and he pushed the plate onto Leon’s lap before grinning toothily and sprinting right back out of the room again. Returning a moment later, tongue tucked between his teeth as he ever so carefully carried a steaming cup of black coffee to Leon, placing that instead on the doily that adorned a side table to the right of where Leon had slept.
“This is for you.” Juri chirped, still in his pyjamas, obviously excited to see an agent in his own home.
“Thanks, kid.” Leon murmured, raising the cup of coffee at him and tipping his head a little in thanks and watching as the kid beamed right back, then once more, sprinted off into the back of the house. The muffled sound of his socks against the carpet easing Leon’s nerves for some reason.
Leon Kennedy: i’m not sure when i’ll be back, i need pickup and then i’ve got a connection in London i need to liaise with, then finally after that i can get back to washington. probably be a couple days before i’m back and also not flat on my back in my bed trying to sleep off the jet lag i’m definitely going to get
The blinis had all gone by the time Chris responded, the text tone making Leon jolt a little as he drank his coffee and glanced around at the various photos that were laid across pretty much every flat surface in the lounge area, Bogdan obviously was a pretty serious family man.
Chris Redfield : I could pick you up at the hangar when you get back? You’ll probably get back into the unit we use.
Leon swallowed, mouth suddenly bone dry and he had to take another sip of scoldingly hot coffee before replying because of course Chris had the run of the aircraft hangars in the East Coast area and knew exactly which one the DSO would be shipping him back through.
Leon Kennedy : maybe, i’ll see how it goes
London was boiling hot and humid by the time he reached the drop off point, almost falling asleep on his feet as he was swapped between the European liaison agents and the Northern American ones, though, of course , nothing was ever simple; the man whom Leon was supposed to be meeting for pickup was three hours late already.
“Fuck it.” Leon pushed aside the coffee he was drinking, two shots of espresso in it and absolutely no alcohol which he was actually kind of proud of, and dug the phone out of his pocket, not giving a shit about the fees or what time it might have been in the states because he did not have the brain capacity at that point to care or worry.
It rang three times.
“Leon?”
A rush of something that resembled relief washed through him at the sound of Chris’ voice.
“Hey. Sorry. You good to talk?” He kept his head down as he spoke, sun beating down on him through the huge windows of the coffee shop he’d picked to wait around in until he could get a car to the pickup point on the outskirts of the city, the heat of it drawing sweat to bead at his hairline, tucked underneath his fringe.
Chris cleared his throat on the other end, sounding like he’d just woken up as he rumbled into the receiver, “Yeah, of course. Is everything fine?”
“Yeah, yeah. I—Uh—I was just wondering if I could actually take you up on that offer for a lift from the hangar when I get back home.” He let himself sigh, feeling unusually unafraid to express weariness in front of someone else, “I’m pretty fucking exhausted actually. I don’t wanna be driving home like this.”
“Where are you right now?” There was a sound of tapping in the background of the call and as Leon took a sip of his coffee, lips pulling back at the bitterness of it, he realised it was Chris’ laptop keys as he typed something before continuing, “If you’re in London already I could get a red eye tonight and then—”
Leon interjected with a snort, “How is that going to get me home quicker?”
He could almost imagine the way the tips of Chris’ ears would have gone red at that comment.
The older man huffed, the static of it crackling through the phone, “I know, I know. I just—I don’t know—I thought it might be easier to have someone on the flight back with you.”
“You’d get on a transatlantic red eye?” He paused, just to let what Chris was telling him sink in, “Just so you could take me back again?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I knew you were going to be an asshole like usual.”
Leon bit back the snarky reply he had wavering on his tongue of, “ So you know what I’m usually like then, huh? ”
Leon tutted back, holding the phone a little closer as though he could press Chris’ willingness to help right into his skull, “I’m not being an asshole. I’m just making sure I’m hearing you right. Anyway, you don’t have to do that—” it would have been nice to see him “—I’m a big boy. I can sit on a plane for seven hours without you holding my hand through it.”
“You sure?”
Leon’s throat went tight.
That was flirting.
He knew what flirting sounded like and that absolutely was Chris playing with him.
He licked his lips before saying slowly, “Just pick me up when I get there and I’ll be fine.”
“Aye, aye.”
Leon tapped his spoon against the coffee cup, brain fuzzy and calmer now that he’d heard Chris’ sleep scratched voice, “How about you? You being shipped out somewhere ridiculous any time soon? Honestly I was a little surprised we managed such a long run of nights out at the bar before one of us had to pack up and leave.” A waitress gathered up his discarded cup and saucer on his plate, a waning smile on her face which he returned politely and then tucked the phone a little closer to his ear, voice hushing slightly, “Prague was a mess.”
“Oh yeah?” Chris yawned into the phone, a groan echoing down the phone after it as he quite obviously stretched, probably still in bed, “You should tell me all about it when you get back.” Leon smiled at the implication of that. The implication Chris wanted to spend even more time with him. “Oh.” Chris began again, “So, Graham’s daughter has been contacting the BSAA recently, or trying to at least.”
Leon’s ears perked up, “What? Ashley?”
“Mhm. She worked under Claire for a bit with TerraSave, branched out I guess into another company but still in for helping those affected by bioterrorism. Anyway, she asked about you, not sure if she realises you’re not with us.”
Leon sighed quietly, “Does everyone just expect me to join the BSAA or something?”
“You could.”
“I’m perfectly fine where I am.”
Chris chuckled, snuffling a little and Leon’s fingers curled into a fist at the pleasant thrum it sent through him, “I think Ashley was hoping that you could give her some sort of friendly insight into what’s been happening recently. Arias. New York. Whatever’s been going on with the DSO. I think she maybe let Claire take her a bit too far under her wing, it all sounded a little ‘hunting for the truth’ if you know what I mean.”
Leon pulled a face to no one but himself, “She’s a good girl. She means well.”
“She likes you.”
“Yeah, I got that from the time she asked me out.” He let out a breath, “I hope she realises I can’t spill agency secrets just because I gave her my number more than a decade ago because I wanted to be friendly to her.”
“Jeez.” There it was again, that flirtatious tone to Chris’ voice, “I had to get your number from my sister and I’ve known you way longer.”
“I liked Ashley when I first met her. I still like her! I had no opinions about you other than thinking you were an asshole for not immediately going to find your sister in...When was it? Winter of ‘98?”
Chris scoffed in return, voice amused though, “I thought you were an air headed little pretty boy with a God complex and a hard on for my sister when you came to me.”
Leon’s lip curled, “Gross. Also, pretty boy? You’re very friendly in the morning, you know that?”
“Just get Ashley off my ass.”
“Now you’re talking about your ass. I’m in a very busy coffee shop in central London, nasty old man.”
“I’m hanging up now.” He paused, then added gently, “Text me when you’ve landed back in the states, I’ll drive out to you.”
Very sincerely, as sincerely as he could muster, Leon responded, “You’re a good friend, Chris.”
He got a laugh in return and Chris muttering, “Goodbye, Leon.”
At least with that conversation a sense of calm had settled over Leon, enough to last him until he’d been informed he needed to get across the city and pretty fucking quick too if he wanted to get his pickup. Usually, Leon would have positively seethed at that, he’d been told a meet point and now it had changed. Maybe if he did join the BSAA he’d at least be saved from having to stare like a complete moron at a tube map to try and work out where he was going.
When he emerged from the underground, breathing exercises being managed the entire time, he was about twenty steps out into the open, breathable air before someone waved him down and without much ado he was bundled into a car and then it was goodbye London. For a little while at least. He huffed against the car windows, headbutting against it, as he grumbled under his breath about how he actually would have quite liked to see some sights while he was there.
Luckily for his encroaching, utterly foul mood, the next eight hours went by relatively quickly. Although, that didn’t mean Leon hadn’t counted down every hour as they lumbered by, foregoing the secretive flask of whiskey the agent had offered him on the heliplane and instead opted for a bottle of water he’d had shoved in his rucksack since he’d landed in London. Tasting a little acrid and plastic-y by that point but he would have rather been hydrated and sober when Chris picked him up on the other side.
The thought of Chris, standing there with his hip resting against that nasty jeep he drove, made Leon’s stomach clench painfully and that definitely could have been the fact he’d barely eaten a proper meal in days but also it could have been the fact that there was something there. Something that Leon knew in the recesses of his mind would probably never come to light unless he did something and he was reminded of a conversation he and Claire had had many, many years ago.
They’d reconnected after Claire had returned from Rockfort Island, Claire flinging her arms around Leon’s neck and immediately Leon had squeezed her shoulders in his hands and bemoaned, “I can’t believe I had to find your own fucking brother and force him to go and get you. How did he not realise?”
Claire had pulled a face and said very matter of factly, “He can be a little dense sometimes. You gotta tell him straight.”
He pulled his jacket around him a little tighter, hull of the heliplane briskly chilly and he wished he could have been on a commercial flight, gazing at the blinking lights of the city below as they descended, instead he stared straight forward at the metallic interior of the plane and turned and turned his phone in his hand. Itching to turn it on and tell Chris he was home.
It was almost a shock when that same ugly jeep was on the runway when Leon pushed his way out of the heliplane, tired eyes blinking at it, unfocused, and then the sound of a completely stupefied laugh worked its way out of his throat.
Life was suddenly jolted back into his bones and Leon waved off the rest of the crew before jogging over to the car, pulling open the passenger side of the door and immediately announcing, “You’re here.”
The look he got in response from Chris was a mixture of embarrassment and determination, “Uh, well. Yeah . I managed to find which flight you’d been coming in on from that comms contact you have.”
Leon almost scoffed, “Hunnigan? How the fuck did you manage that?”
“Come on, it’s not as if our agencies don’t constantly work together. People trust me.”
“You could be kidnapping me.” Leon slid into the seat, dumping his bag on the floor and leaning back against the headrest, eyes sliding closed for just a moment, “You could be picking me up for nefarious reasons.”
Chris chuckled beside him and that was the last thing he heard before completely knocking out, head lolled against the headrest and hands laying limp in his lap. Sleep having taken him so quickly that he could barely comprehend it. When he finally snuffled awake, making sure to wipe at the side of his face which felt dampened with, embarrassingly, his own saliva, his sleepy eyes peered at the building they’d stopped outside of and in a sticky, exhausted voice Leon croaked, “This isn’t my apartment.”
Beside him Chris’ hand tightened on the steering wheel, “Sorry. I wasn’t too sure where you lived so I just drove back to mine. I hope that’s okay? I can drive to yours if you want.”
Leon groaned, rolling his shoulders and unbuckling his belt, with a little difficultly with how sleep-stupid his hands felt, “It’s fine. I’ll sleep on your couch or whatever. I just need to lie on my back as soon as possible.” He rubbed at his eyes, head sore and pounding with the need to fall back asleep, “How come you could find out when my flight was getting in but you couldn’t find out my address?”
Chris shrugged, “That felt a little too invasive.”
He got a snort in return from Leon, “Wow. What a gentleman. Come on, I feel like shit right now.”
Chris all but scrambled to get Leon up and into his apartment, the offer of food and drink from his host completely forgone as Leon stalked into the lounge area, peered around for a single moment at some of the items that littered the shelves and such in Chris’ personal space, and then promptly flopped onto the couch, snores almost immediately overtaking him.
He woke up the next morning to his jacket draped over an armchair to the side of him, a cup of cooling, incredibly strong, coffee on the coffee table and a text from Chris that read:
Chris Redfield : Had to leave early to meet Claire about something, think it might have to do with Ashley. I left you my spare key so just lock the door if you leave.
It took Leon an hour, and another cup of coffee at a place he tended to frequent when he had free time, to realise that Chris had typed if you leave. Not when.
---
It took about a week for Leon’s body to get back to normal, something that happened more and more as he neared middle age and when he finally placed some paperwork on Prague onto Hunnigan’s desk she gave him a look. Then wheeled her chair backwards a little and turned so she could face him properly, glasses perched low on her nose and giving her an air that reminded Leon so deeply of the few times Claire had fixed him with a look very similar.
Something the women in his life were very good at, a combination of knowing something and also incredulity that the men around them could be so stupid.
“Please don’t start.” Leon interjected before Hunnigan even had a chance to open her mouth.
She tutted a little, pushing her glasses back up to their rightful position and crossing her legs, “I was simply going to say I was glad that you got home safely from London, and that the taxi we had arranged to come and pick you up was a little bit annoyed that we had to cancel after he’d driven out from across the city.” She followed it up by smiling and tilting her pen at Leon, “Is this going to be a regular occurrence then?”
This was payback for when he’d asked her out all those years ago. He could feel it.
“I don’t know. I’m not Chris. Not my fault that he’s got such a saviour complex that he even wants to help me out.”
Hunnigan hmm ’d and twirled back around to sit at her desk properly, opening up her mail and beginning to type up something as though they had never had the, albeit short, conversation, “If anyone asks I’ll tell them that you’re improving relationships with the BSAA.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“People are going to notice, Leon.”
He blinked. Once. Then twice.
“Nothing is going on between Chris and I.”
He received a hushed giggle in return, not mocking, just amused but Leon did have to remind himself that Hunnigan and himself were friends and that she wasn’t trying to be an asshole.
“Ashley Graham’s been trying to contact you again by the way. I think you should take a look at the emails.”
Leon’s eyebrows raised, “I’m assuming that means you’ve looked over them. Anything in particular?”
Hunnigan looked serious all of a sudden, brows pulling together and it was unusual for her to look worried, “I’m too sure yet. It’s all unsubstantiated but she’s been saying that someone gave her information on the whereabouts of Maria Gomez. We have absolutely no idea if any of it is true or just people passing around rumours but—” She paused, bringing up the email and scooting over so Leon could gaze at the screen over her shoulder, “—I think we should probably look into it.”
“Maria Gomez?” Leon racked his brain for the answer to who that was but Hunnigan got in there before him.
“The blonde woman who led the attack on Rebecca. One of the survivors of Arias’ wedding.” She cleared her throat, “And, unfortunately, the only survivor of New York.”
The grimace overtook Leon’s face before he could stop himself, “Shit.”
“It’s hearsay so far. We have no idea where she’s got any of this information from, but—”
“Why would she lie?”
“There’s that.” Hunnigan supplied, leaving Leon to rake his eyes across the email and when he had finished she murmured, “I’ll get a team to try and do some recon.”
“We shouldn’t waste too much time on this.” Leon’s voice was tight as he spoke and he could feel the way Hunnigan was looking at him.
“She’s risking a lot. It would be pertinent to at least try.” She placed a hand on Leon’s where it was balled against the desk, “ You don’t have to take this one, Leon . We can send in someone else.” Her tone was the closest Leon had ever heard it come to comforting, “You don’t have to finish this just because you were there. Maria can be dealt with without you.”
“It feels like failure. We let her get away.”
“You had bigger things to be dealing with. Literally. I saw the footage from the headcams of Chris’ team of Arias.” Her hand left his and Leon found that his hand had unclenched without even thinking about it. “We could contact the BSAA and pull in some support.”
Leon winced, “I don’t know…”
“Not to rush you, but you should make a decision soon.”
“Bolivia is a big place, Ingrid.” Leon chewed on his lip, unsure.
“Potosí is smaller though, obviously. Graham said something about a mining settlement in another email and I can only imagine that’s where she meant, so I think maybe we should send some agents out to recon the area.” She paused, “This is good , Leon. How often do we have leads on people less than a year after they’ve disappeared? She’s obviously slipped up somewhere along the line. Maybe sought out aid and accidentally stumbled into TerraSave’s radar, then somewhere down the line it got to Graham.”
“Just feels convenient.”
“I’d rather take convenience over nothing.”
“Hm.” The sound grumbled out of Leon as he frowned at the email from Ashley, sent from an old TerraSave email client consisting of a series of letters and numbers, but still signed with an ‘AG’ which made Leon almost slap a hand over his face in exasperation. “I’ll call her. I need to hear it from her, then I’ll make a decision.”
“Of course. Would you like me to involve the BSAA? Seems only right after Arias. Silver Dagger would probably love to get after.” She licked her lips, “Especially with what happened with Damian.”
A flash of the man’s dead body shot through Leon’ head and he set his mouth in a sharp, unyielding line before muttering, “Yeah. Yeah, fine. Contact them. I’ll get onto Graham.”
He decided to use one of the many burner phones the team had, Sherry went through about two a week sometimes and so they generally had an unending supply of them, punching in Ashley’s number and waiting for the ring tone to be cut short by her answering, “Hello?”
Leon breathed out a sigh, unsure of why he felt so relieved to hear Ashley’s voice after a long, long time but it was always a strange feeling to be able to actually converse with people from his past. Too often they weren’t around. For obvious reasons.
“Hey. It’s me.” He kept his voice steady, they could get into the meat of why he’d called in a moment, but for now, it was nice to just be able to chat like regular people.
“Leon? I don’t have this number on this phone?”
Another sigh of relief. At least she knew well enough to have a separate phone too.
“I’m using a throwaway. I got your email.” He leant back in his desk chair, mouse moving to enlarge it on his screen, “It was good to hear from you, even if it was work.”
Ashley sniggered a little, voice soft and sweet and Leon didn’t mean to be presumptuous but it wasn’t much of a secret amongst agents that she’d harboured that crush from Spain for a long while afterwards too, “You were the first person I thought to tell, I’d heard about New York from Claire and I just thought that you might want to know. I recently met with a guy we volunteered with a few years ago, he said he had actually met her while she was moving about South America not too long ago, and I knew that I’d heard the name Gomez before.”
Leon typed as she spoke, mapping out notes with the information she was relaying, stopping only to say slowly and a little unsurely into the phone, “And you believed him?”
“I had no reason not to. He said that he’d been working a food drive for people after a bioterror attack in La Paz, the South American BSAA agency had cleared it up relatively quickly but there was some woman hanging around. Blonde. Hair covering her right eye like something was wrong with it and she was trying to hide it. He said that she’d said something briefly about her father being born in the region and after a little digging I found that Diego had been born there, then emigrated to the states where he had met Arias in the 80’s.”
“Jesus. You’ve been doing your homework.” Leon hoped that hadn’t sounded sarcastic because, actually, he kind of meant it.
Ashley laughed in return, the sound being muffled after a moment and Leon could only imagine she had covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself, “I did work with Claire for long enough. She taught me that everything has a lead and everything counts.”
Leon found himself nodding, “She’s pretty smart like that.”
“You know, it’s nice hearing from you, Leon.” Ashley’s voice became even softer at that, if that was even possible, “It would be super nice if you called for something other than work, but I understand.” She couldn’t help the disappointment that crept into her tone and it made Leon’s face burn with guilt because, yeah , sometimes he was a bit of a shitty friend. Claire could attest to that, multiple times he’d left her completely in the lurch, no idea of where he was, how he was, what he was doing.
“Sorry.” His voice was quiet, reflective almost, “Nothing ever particularly seems to be easy for me.”
“Is that an excuse or a reason?”
“Both. I guess.” He sighed, combing his fingers through his hair, clenching on the ends and tugging just a little in badly contained frustration, “I’ve managed to have a little spare downtime recently after everything that happened in New York with Arias, maybe I could see you sometime next time I do again?” He ended the sentence as hopeful as he could, attempting to keep the curl of bad faith that had plagued him for years after China out of his speech.
“I’d really like that.” She was silent for a second before she added, “I might need to look through my work schedule though, I’ve been working with my father on starting a new charity for children affected by bioterror events. As you can expect we’re...A little swamped sometimes.”
Leon’s mouth twitched into a smile, “You know, you sound so grown up now.”
Ashley actually cackled at that, the sound dipping in volume as though she had to hold the phone away from her face, “I’m thirty three, Leon. But thank you for the sentiment I suppose. But you know, so do you. You’ve barely cracked one of those horrible jokes this whole conversation.”
“Don’t worry, I get told off for that all the time still.”
“You’re seeing someone?” Ashley asked, unable to keep the puzzlement out of her voice.
Leon swallowed, then whispered, “Huh?”
“Oh. Sorry, you just said that so... Fondly. I don’t know. Sounded like something someone would say about their partner.”
“You’re not going to ask me if it’s Claire, too. Are you?” Leon grunted, twirling a pen around his fingertips anxiously, unsure of where this whole thing was leading.
“I worked with Claire. I’ve worked with Claire’s girlfriend. I know better than to even bother.”
“Ah.”
“It’s not my place to pry.” Her smile could almost be heard in the way she chirped, “But whatever it is, sounds like you’re into it.” Then, there was a sound in the background, a man’s voice speaking and Ashley called back to them that she’d come out in a second, then with that she was speaking back into the phone, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll email you through anything else I can find, but I think maybe you should at least look into it. She’s not a dire threat by herself, but I can only imagine what would happen if found some willing people. And not to worry you, but it was you and Chris’ team that got her father killed.”
“I understand. Thank you, Ashley.” He twirled the pen around his hand another time, rolling a thought around his head before confiding, “I think you should get in contact with Chris as well. The DSO will probably liaise with them anyway, but I think he’d be a relevant person to get in on this if it’s to do with the Arias mission.”
“I thought you might say that.”
“What? What does that mean, Ashley?”
“I’ve got to go.” She was rushing off the phone by the sound of it, eager to get away after that comment which had Leon frowning and worrying his lip, “I’ll speak to you soon! Goodbye, Leon. Stay safe.”
Then the line was going dead and Hunnigan was gazing at him, annoyingly, from her desk.
“Jesus Christ.” Leon muttered under his breath, before turning fully to Ingrid and waving a blasé hand into the air, “Fine! Get in contact with Chris, get him in on this officially and I’ll pull a meeting with some agents to get them out to scout the area she was last seen.”
Ingrid’s smile was just on this side of too smug.
---
“You’re stressed.” Chris informed, oh so helpfully, as Leon took the turning into his street, phone on speakerphone as Chris added to that, just as helpfully, “You need to calm the fuck down about this or you’re going to make yourself feel as bad as you did with what happened in Washington.”
The sound of Leon’s car door slamming punctuated the conversation and he grumbled as he climbed the stairs to his apartment, forgoing the elevator because he always needed the exercise these days, “Sorry for being a sourpuss when things aren’t finished and tied up when we expect them to. How the fuck did we let her go?”
“I mean, at least you know you’re being a sourpuss.” Chris left a gap for Leon to snort absentmindedly and he tossed his gear onto his couch as he slumped into his apartment, body aching for a shower after doing fitness training with a couple of new recruits for his section of the DSO. “Things happen, Leon. You should be happy we have a chance to rectify it now—”
“We might have a chance. We have no real evidence so far.” Leon butted in, “And I am happy, I’m just—”
“Tired?”
“Mm.” Leon mumbled, unbuckling his pants and climbing out of them, the need to wash all the sweat and grime of the day off his only true thought, “Tired. Sick of shit always coming back to bite me in the ass.”
“Hey. At least you got me to back you up this time, right?”
The way that Chris sounded so insanely sincere made Leon’s temples throb and he flopped the phone onto the bed on speakerphone again as he pulled off his shirt, “Yeah, of course. I just sometimes wonder when any of us are going to get away from the past.” He paused, shirt clutched in his hands as he tried to not think about how ridiculous it was that he was stood in his underwear having this conversation, “Ashley said something funny to me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Asked if I had a partner.”
“I thought that most people know that you work alone?”
Leon exhaled weakly, almost a laugh, “No. I mean a romantic partner.” He swallowed around a lump in his throat, “It’d be nice, maybe.”
“Yeah.” Chris breathed, “Yeah, I think it would. Kind of hard in our line of work I’ve found. Gotta find the right person. Why’d she say that though?”
“No fucking clue. Something I said. Maybe I’m just a little bit impressed that people still think I’m capable of feeling love.”
“Jesus, don’t sell yourself too short. I think you’re capable of a ton of shit.”
“You have to say that, you’re my only friend.”
“Leon.” Chris groaned down the line but Leon didn’t let him get any further, he didn’t need his ego stroked about this.
“Listen, I need to go, there’s a hot shower calling my name.” He didn’t mention that he’d pulled off his underwear halfway through that sentence but did still check to make sure he hadn’t somehow clicked onto a video call.
“Sounds like a plan. Hey—” There it was again, Chris’ hopeful voice “—Let me know the next time you’re free. Maybe a drink will calm you down before anything starts happening with this Gomez shit. I think I might need it too. I’ve been doing office work for the most part recently and I’m beat.”
“Office work and being my personal driver.”
Chris snorted, “That too.”
“I’ll text you.”
“You better.”
Leon kept hold of that last comment from Chris from the moment he stepped into the shower to the moment he splayed himself out on his bed, towel hitched around his waist and thinking about the difference between the Chris he knew now versus the Chris that had found him drunk and grouchy in that bar, knocking back drinks and acting like the complete jackass he knew he could be if he just stopped putting on the air of niceness he allowed people around him most of the time.
He slid his hands over his stomach, lacing his fingers together and thought about Chris’ face as he had berated him, so terribly angry and self righteous and absolutely right in the way that he was sure that Leon could do better . Because he could. He was just warped by his own misery and spite and had lapsed into habits that he’d had since he was a young man, maybe even a teenager. Lost to the simple fact that he could drink and drink and maybe not think about anything after that.
Chris had been a wakeup call. So had Rebecca really.
But something in the way that Chris’ eyes had fixed on his own and he had surrounded him with his huge, almost belligerently honest eyes had made Leon’s chest seize sharply and it was then that he had realised that maybe Chris believed in him.
Believed in him and gave a shit about him.
He groaned, tossing an arm over his eyes and clenching his fist over his stomach, embarrassment washing over him in waves. He was a grown man. He shouldn’t have to need the respect and friendship of Chris, but he did. He needed it so badly that Chris could have asked him to do anything while they were fighting in that bar and Leon would have almost definitely said yes.
The arm fell to the side, hand reaching for his discarded phone and the memory of Chris’ comment the first time they had been out drinking popped into his mind.
I thought that you were interested in her.
The rumour did actually hold at least some kind of verisimilitude because at one point Leon had expressed to an old DSO colleague that he was interested in a Redfield sibling. Unfortunately, Claire had definitely not been that sibling.
Claire had made sense though, the two of them were famously known as somewhat of a duo and more often than not they found themselves in situations together, so who was to say that it shouldn’t have been Claire that Leon had expressed interest in when he’d mentioned it offhandedly one evening when they had all gone to a bar together in a mock team building exercise which was really just an opportunity to all get drunk and mouthy together.
To an outside eye, Claire had been the obvious choice.
Perhaps it did seem to everyone else that he had wanted her and not her meat-head brother.
Leon snorted, rubbed a fist into his eyes sleepily and then thought about texting Chris already. The idea to send him a photo of himself lying in bed, draped in only a towel and with his hair still wet against the pillow cannonballing its way through his head and he wondered what Chris would have done if he had. Ultimately coming to the very easy conclusion that that was a horrible, disgusting idea and that one should never send their friends photos like that without asking first.
“Ugh. Gross.” He berated himself mentally before sending a normal text, asking Chris if he was free at the weekend, to which the reply was almost instant and Leon couldn’t keep the goofy grin from his lips as he watched as the little text bubble popped up gleefully on his phone screen.
Chris Redfield : I was wondering how long it would be before you asked, and of course. I have a good idea of somewhere we can go.
There was only a touch of shame at the back of Leon’s mind when he, about twenty minutes later, slid his hand down the front of himself and got himself off to the thought of Chris in that bar back last year. Resentment and umbrage slapped across his face but also the heat of that concept of Leon’s own betterment being something that Chris could apparently perceive all too well. Like he knew Leon. Like he knew how to make him better.
Knew how to save him.
Leon swallowed sharply at thought, hand tight around his erection at the idea that after all this time, perhaps he had been right. Chris was some golden boy, crowned by the BSAA personally to come down and save humanity and right the wrongs that companies like Umbrella and Tricell had set out into the world and amongst all of that, pick Leon up and dust him off and care about him too.
Because he did care, even if a little.
He didn’t even bother cleaning up after he came, caught up in his own fantasy of how Chris would probably do it all for him if he were there, so why should he bother.