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#ChrisWorldProblems

Summary:

Set post-Resident Evil: Vendetta. Leon can't let anyone else in, not after what he has lost. Chris has to try to save everyone, especially those he cares about. Can Chris save Leon from his own personal demons...and will Leon let him?

Chapter 1: A Helping Hand

Chapter Text

Leon stared at the glass of amber-colored alcohol, trying to remember how he got to this level. Oh yeah, he recalled, finishing the rest of the drink in one gulp.  I wanted to forget. Forget about everyone he's lost, and everyone he hasn't. The people in his life were all potential points of sadness that could eventually hurt him.

 

Maybe it was the alcohol talking that gave Leon such a depressive way of thinking. Maybe it was his history and line of work. It doesn’t matter anyway. He poured what was left of an expensive bottle of whiskey into his glass and finished with a sigh. One bottle down. The bar Leon had chosen that night was a small hole in the wall near his place in D.C. It didn’t really matter what bar he went to, as long as it had whiskey. Leon waved the bartender over for another bottle. He was shocked when the older gentleman shook his head.

 

"Buddy, that’s enough for tonight. How you getting home?"

 

Buddy. Leon hated it when he was called that. And the agent hated when others wanted to cut off his supply. Flashbacks of Colorado and the argument with Chris floated through his mind.

 

What the hell did that damn brute know anyway?

 

"Don't worry, old man," Leon sneered, smacking a couple of bills onto the bar, "I'm walking." With that, Leon stumbled out of the deadbeat bar.

 

The cool November air sobered him up a bit, if only to brace against the bitter weather. Snow had begun trickling down, slowly blanketing everything in silence. It enhanced the buzzing in Leon’s ears. He blamed it on the booze and past explosions, some too close for comfort. The ground was spinning bit by bit beneath him. He blamed that on the explosions too.

 

The buzzing morphed into ringing and Leon realized it was his phone. A building bumped into him and he stopped long enough to fumble for the device and answer the call.

 

“Hello?” was all Leon could muster. His venture to the condo continued, ready to be out of the elements.

 

“Hey.”

 

The voice seemingly boomed in his ear, making him hold it away and sway from the quick movement.

 

“Shhhh…who’s dis?” he motioned a finger to his mouth as if the recipient could see him.

 

“It’s Chris,” the caller said, quieter than before.

 

That registered clearly in Leon’s brain, washing some of the buzz away from his thoughts instantly. “What.” His tone was no longer playful. It dripped annoyance as the word came out as more of a command.

 

There was a small pause. “I wanted to…”

 

“Wanted to what?” Leon interrupted, anger already building underneath the numbness alcohol had given him. A gust of wind splattered snowflakes into his face and bangs. It was too damn cold to deal with people, especially of the Redfield variety.

 

“I wanted to check on you. Maybe meet up. I’m in the area for debrief and report-type things.” Chris explained slowly, as if tip-toeing around a large beast.

 

“Nothing to check up on,” the younger man diverted. Home was close now. Only a couple of blocks left.

 

“Leon, seriously?” Chris’s tone was ridiculing.

 

Another thing I hate.

 

“Don’t you have the whole world to worry about?” Leon sneered. It had become second nature to hide any type of emotion behind quips and a bottle. He was genuinely pissed Chris broke away some of his buzz. With every word spoken, memories of the soldier pressed back into his head. Damn, he wanted to forget.

 

“Right now, I’m only worried about one idiot in the world.” Chris’s voice remained calm despite Leon’s obvious aggression.

 

Leon stumbled up his block, apartment buildings lining either side of the street. The snow was accumulating a fine dusting on the cars and rooftops. “Sorry you’re so worried about yourself.”

 

“God dammit, Leon!” Chris shouted through the receiver. That had gotten him riled up. Leon smirked.

 

Pushing Chris away was easy.

 

He would get frustrated and finally leave him alone, maybe even hang up on him. Leon had convinced himself it was easier this way, with distance between him and everyone else. It definitely hurt less.

 

“I’m worried about you.” Chris finally said. The flash of frustration was gone from his tone.

 

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” Leon mocked. He opened the door to his building clumsily. Heat blasted his face, blowing his hair into his eyes. The blonde staggered into the building, brushing his hair back into place.

 

Silence emanated from the receiver. Leon glanced at the screen. Chris had hung up. Leon smiled to himself at the small victory. The warmth of the foyer had brought back his buzz in full force, along with the spinning floor.

 

“I’m making it your problem.”

 

Leon’s head shot up from his phone to see Chris standing in front of the elevators, backpack slung over his broad shoulder.

 

“You’re not here,” Leon whispered to himself, looking back at his phone. “You were here.” Leon distinctly pointed at the smartphone. The gears in his head were sluggish, bogged down by whiskey. The warmth had made the alcohol hit harder than before.

 

“I’m definitely here. And you’re drunk,” Chris sighed and shook his head, disappointment weighing down his voice.

 

Leon’s brain was malfunctioning. Deciding to ignore the here/not here Chris, he stumbled past in an attempt to get to the elevators. They bumped shoulders and Leon tripped. Strong arms steadied him. He twisted against the hold, “Let go,” Leon grunted. The grip did not do as he commanded. Leon swung a punch.  

 

“Dammit, cut it out. Stop being so stubborn.” Chris caught the punch, holding his wrist in an iron grip. The weight of sleepiness and booze made Leon’s body feel heavy. He stopped flailing and fell against Chris. Arms embraced him and he felt...warm.

 

“Are you done?” Chris asked gently. The hairs raised on Leon’s neck as Chris’ breath caressed it. Any witty comebacks Leon had prepared escaped him now. Chris was here it seemed and Leon had not succeeded pushing him away, literally or figuratively.

 

Some part of Leon was still annoyed that Redfield was here in his apartment building. However, his bitterness lost to the sheer warmth of another body near his own. “You’re warm,” was all he could muster at the moment. It came out tired, and it was then that Leon realized he was.

 

“Let’s get you home, man.” Chris let go and pushed the up arrow to call the elevator. Leon swayed while standing still. Chris placed a hand on Leon’s shoulder to steady him. “How much did you have to drink, Leon?” There wasn’t ridicule in his voice anymore, but concern. It was on his face too, crinkling his eyebrows and showing a few lines at the edge of his frown.  

 

The room had begun to spin again as well. Leon focused on the mouth. “Jus’ a bottle,” he slurred out. The spirits had caught up with him for sure.

 

The elevator dinged, indicating its arrival. “Of what?”

 

“Whiskey.”

 

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

 

Chris sighed and used the agent’s shoulders to guide him into the lift. He watched his friend smash several floor buttons in an attempt to hit one of them. The larger man shook his head, unable to stop the elevator from stopping at three floors before hitting the one they needed. Leon was quiet as he staggered out of the lift and into the brightly lit hallway. It was long, spanning at least ten doors on either side.

 

There had been many times something dead chased him down hallways this long or longer. Chris didn’t trust hallways like these. He noticed Leon haphazardly glance back at him before wobbling forward. He looked like a mess. Dark circles made his eyes look sunken in. Leon was pale and smelt strongly of booze. Somehow the blonde hair remained perfect and Chris had to wonder if there was a magical spell put on it.

 

Of course Leon bumped into the walls like a pinball the entire way down the stupidly long hallway. How did Leon get this way? Everyone had their own demons, sure, but was alcohol really the best way to deal with it? Chris didn’t think so. He thought back to his conversation with Claire. They both agreed Leon was off the deep end without a life jacket.

 

“What can we do?” he asked Claire.

 

“We can show him people still care. There are still people in his life worth fighting for.” Wise Claire. She always knew what was going through that stubborn man’s head.

 

“He won’t accept help, Claire.”

 

“Then don’t tell him you’re helping him. Just show up.”  

 

 

I’m glad I did, he thought as he watched Leon struggle with a pair of keys. He dropped them and leaned heavily against the doorframe, mumbling something incoherent.

 

Chris picked up the small keyset. The captain flipped through the keys; two were small, one was probably to a vehicle, and two were identical. His place was the last door on the right and Chris couldn’t help but think there was strategy behind the choice. Guarding Leon from falling, Chris tried one of the two identical keys and felt relieved he got the door open on the first try.

 

Leon tumbled into the opening instead, almost falling again. Chris flicked the light on, revealing a large open floor plan with a spacious kitchen and island to the left, a balcony across from them, and a door to the far right, probably leading to the bedroom and bathroom.

 

The condo was a dump. Several take out boxes littered the kitchen counter, island, and small coffee table. Trash was strewn about on the dark hardwood floors and there was a stale stench in the air. Leon shuffled his boots off and wandered to the bedroom door. Chris followed quietly, unsure in leaving Leon on his own for too long.

 

The bedroom wasn’t much better. Instead of food, there were piles of clothes. Chris wasn’t sure if they were dirty or not. He didn’t dare enter the bathroom. Leon mumbled something again that Chris could not understand before flopping onto the king-size bed, leather jacket and all. Soft snoring soon filled the quiet room. Chris tiptoed out, careful not to stir the sleeping resident.

 

It was worse than he or Claire thought. Leon wasn’t even taking care of his own living space, let alone himself. He scanned the area again, finding a couch and an armchair accompanying a coffee table. The only other furniture were some bar stools under the island, and a cupboard off to the side of the kitchen lined with several types of whiskey.

 

Great. The only clean part of his apartment is the bar.

 

He closed the bedroom door quietly. Chris contemplated what to do next. His jet lag from Russia would keep him up for quite a while. The BSAA had set him up with a hotel for the week, but Leon needed more help than anticipated. Should he stay here? Fear crept through him at the thought of Leon waking up to find him on the couch. The man wouldn’t be too keen on him staying here when he was so adamant on not having visitors.

 

Now, staring at the stacked pizza boxes, Chris knew why.

 

All Chris wanted was to build trust with him and get closer to Leon so he would listen. He wasn’t going to stay here. Not tonight. Not without Leon’s begrudging acceptance anyway. Chris valued his life too much. But he wasn’t going to leave this mess either. He let his backpack slip onto the floor and stretched, mentally making a checklist of things to do for the apartment.

 

He opened the patio door first, hopefully wafting out some of the smell. He then went to town picking up trash in the living area, creating bags to take out to the dumpster. Thankfully, there weren’t many small pieces of trash, just takeout containers mostly.

 

After about an hour, Chris finished the living area. He took a couple of trips downstairs to take out the trash. The raven-haired man peeked into the bedroom to see that Leon hadn’t woken up to him re-entering the condo. He had shifted onto his back though, exposing some of his lean waistline. Chris gulped, feeling his cheeks heat up at the sight of Leon’s exposed flesh. The light from the living room hit at an angle, accentuating the toned muscle.

 

Chris closed the door and leaned his forehead against it, mentally kicking himself for even going there. He had known Leon for years, even worked with him. He knew they never quite got along and butted heads constantly. Yet Chris couldn’t stop his mind from the ‘what ifs’ that poked out every once in a while.

 

What if they were closer?

 

What if he had shown how much Leon meant to him?

 

What if Chris had cared more?

 

Could he have stopped this?

 

He shook those thoughts from his mind and focused back to the kitchen. The island was easy enough to clear off, more take out boxes and some dirty dishes scattered about. The counter, however, displayed how much of a problem Leon had developed. Chris lost count of how many empty whiskey bottles ended up in the trash. They were even in the sink.

 

He gathered more bags and took them to the dumpster. Once he entered the condo for the fifth time that night, it looked much better, cleaner. The stench was gone too. Sleep was weighing him down a bit more now, but Chris quickly closed the patio door and finished loading the dishwasher.

 

After a bit of thought, he decided to write Leon a note. He probably wouldn’t read it, Chris told himself, but at least the effort was there. He left it on the counter with a tall glass of water. There was no way he knew where Leon kept his medications. He also remembered that Leon hadn’t plugged his phone in to charge.

 

Chris slowly opened the bedroom door again. Soft snores filled his ears, signaling Leon was still fast asleep. Chris wondered if he had nightmares too as he snuck into the dark room. Leon’s face looked peaceful though and Chris smiled. Leon’s phone was sticking out of his jacket pocket slightly.

 

He leaned down, careful not to put pressure on the bed or fabric. The phone slid out easily and Chris let out the breath he had been holding. The charger was on the other side of the bed. Moving slowly to the side table, he grabbed the wire and plugged in the phone. With his checklist complete, Chris moved to leave. His boot caught the corner of the bed, jostling the entire frame.

 

Shit...

 

Leon stirred, groaning a bit. Chris froze where he stood, silently praying for Leon to stay asleep. This situation would be really difficult to explain. The younger man turned and shivered, still asleep. Chris sighed slowly as the soft snores began again. He moved to leave but Leon shivered once more.

 

Dammit.

 

Chris clenched his fists. He’d done enough right? Cleaning the whole damn place, leaving notes and water. Even charging the phone! Yet as if his body was on autopilot, he was draping a throw blanket over Leon’s smaller frame in an attempt to warm him. Claire would surely say he was being too nice.

 

But nice is exactly what Leon needed right now.

 

Hoping it was enough, Chris flicked the light off and locked up. Tomorrow, he thought, I’ll visit again tomorrow.

 

 

Chapter 2: Missed Connections

Summary:

Leon awakens to foggy memories and a spotless apartment. How will he handle the aftermath of a night almost forgotten?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Leon awoke comfortable and warm. He kept his eyes closed, still groggy and unsure if a headache awaited him when they opened. He felt a soft blanket on him and he instinctively curled into it, tucking his head underneath the gentle fabric. Like most mornings, Leon’s entire body felt heavy, as if the weight of the blanket held him in place.

Moving anything was a concentrated effort. He didn’t want to move. The agent wanted to stay in relaxed, warm bliss forever. But soon his bladder was yelling at him and he couldn’t refuse the nagging sensation. Gradually, Leon opened his eyes, thankful no pain followed.

He proceeded slowly, careful to let his body adjust to the movement. As soon as he sat up, however, the room spun and his stomach flipped. His head betrayed him as well, sending sharp pain into his eyes. Groaning, Leon emptied the contents of his stomach into a nearby waste bin. The taste of bile stung the back of his throat.

Finally, with determined exertion, Leon made it to the bathroom. The agent rinsed his head under cold water in the sink for a bit, trying to fight back another wave of nausea. He lifted his head and looked into the mirror. He looked like shit. Dark circles outlined his eyes, making him look tired. He was pale. Tips of blonde bangs were encrusted in what Leon assumed was vomit. He put a hand to his mouth, breathed out and sniffed.

Smelt like shit too. Leon still had on street clothes; even a leather jacket. Had he gone out? He stretched sluggishly, as if going too far would break his body. Any semblance of remembering last night sent shockwaves of pain into his head. Leon pinched the bridge of his nose and decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

A shower. He needed a shower. Leon stripped and stepped into the large open bath. The water rushed out from the ceiling-mounted shower head cold, making his skin prickle with goosebumps. Eventually, the water increased in temperature, settling on a scalding heat. The blonde let hot droplets splash down onto his face. Threading a hand through his hair, he rested his forehead against the wet tile.

Not a single memory surfaced from the night before. Leon focused on the last thing he could remember. He was in a bar, drinking. The memory shifted to an empty bottle of whiskey.

That explains things.

What happened after the bar though? Leon’s body shivered against the hot water. There was just the memory of being really, really cold, then hot, then warm…

Leon focused on the memory of warmth. It was grounding. Comforting.

Gentle.

The warmth had made him feel safe. Why did he need to feel safe? The thought of safety was commonly associated with danger. Had he been in any? Thoughts like this were getting him nowhere. He needed coffee.

Leon fell into his morning routine, going at a slower pace to nurse his stomach and headache. After the shower, he shaved and treated his face with moisturizer. When he was finished brushing his teeth, Leon grabbed a blue sweater and black jeans from one of the piles, smelling them before deciding they were clean enough to wear.

He rubbed his forehead as he made his way to the kitchen. Leon grabbed the Keurig reservoir and filled it with water. The Keurig cups were in a drawer on the island. There was an assortment, yet nothing but the coffee ones were ever used. Leon carefully plucked one of the coffee cups and set it on the island. That was when the agent first noticed something off.

There was nothing on the island.

He absentmindedly scanned the condo.

There was nothing around the place period, save for his furniture. The trash was gone. All of it. His floors were shining as if they had been polished. Leon whipped around and found the same situation on the counter, with the dishwasher indicating a load was finished.

What the fuck?

Bewildered, he placed the cup into the holder and started brewing coffee into a mug. His headache was not helping him remember the night before. Everything after the bar was fuzzy. Shaking his head, Leon noticed a glass of clear liquid just to the side of the sink. It was holding a small piece of paper down with a pen to the side. He snatched the paper up, eager to clarify some of the mystery.

Leon,

Drink this.

I will be over at 18:00.

C.R.

“What the hell?” was all Leon could muster. What the fuck had happened last night? The Keurig dinged, jarring Leon a bit. He looked back to the glass warily.

C.R.

He quickly placed the note down and replaced it with the cup of warm liquid. The smell of coffee invaded his senses. As Leon sipped his warm beverage, he checked the rest of the apartment. Nothing was out of place. Just…clean. The condo smelt fresh too. After realizing the coffee was doing nothing for his headache and lost memories, Leon splashed some bourbon into the brown liquid. It took the edge off quickly.

The entire situation was extremely unsettling. There was no way Leon had cleaned his own apartment. He distinctly remembered the empty whiskey bottle.

So…who had?

Was it the same person who had left the note and drink? And who was C.R.? Was it too simple to think it was Claire? Wasn’t she in Kansas? Why would she be in Washington D.C.? The idea that Claire was the mystery person was just too convenient.

Was someone using the initials as a decoy?

Slight panic set in as Leon thought of someone unknown rummaging through his apartment. The agent racked his brain for some kind of guidance. He was still on vacation for another week, so there weren’t any recent threats.

But Leon had enemies.

He tossed back the rest of his spiked coffee and set to work, checking corners and behind furniture for bugs, wire taps, and cameras. He investigated the couch and chair cushions, flipping the furniture and pulling out the foam filling, leaving it strewn about. He checked each weapon stashed around his apartment. They were all accounted for and untouched.

Nothing.

He checked his laptop. It was still dead from two days ago. There was no indication anyone had touched it. Leon inspected the door. No obvious signs of forced entry. Hell, it had even been locked. The patio was clear as well. Leon emptied his kitchen cabinets onto the counter, ripping up the lining paper in an attempt to reveal any sort of trace somebody had placed something there.

Still nothing.

Leon sighed and read the note again. It didn’t sound like a threat, but the mystery person was coming back. Why? The handwriting was neat as well. No discernable indicators that it was a male or female who wrote it. Leon stared at the glass of liquid. Was it water? It could be drugged.

Like I’m drinking that, he thought, discarding the note back onto the now crowded countertop.

The bedroom.

Leon shortened the distance to his room quickly, fully alert now. At the flick of a switch, light illuminated the area, showing a made bed with a throw blanket sprawled over the comforter, an end table, a mounted TV, and the bathroom to the right. This room was not tidy, nor was the bathroom.  

Whoever had been here had not messed with these two rooms for some reason.

A soft green light blinked from the end table. His phone. After several minutes of debating, he decided to check it.  There were no new messages or missed calls. Leon walked back out into the living room, finding himself standing in front of the glass of liquid again. It was taunting him with secrets and he hated it. He looked at his phone. Maybe the mystery person had contacted him last night?

His messenger app held no answers. The most recent entry being a picture of a cat Sherry had sent him and another from Sasha of children playing in the snow. He opened up his recent calls. The last one should be from Hunnigan.

It wasn’t.

Leon squeezed his phone so hard he thought it was going to break under the pressure. The screen indicated he had answered a call from Chris Redfield.

C.R.

Chris fucking Redfield had been in his apartment. The call indicated it had been early in the morning too. Had he cleaned the place? Who fucking does that? Leon felt anger swell inside him. That smug bastard had seen Leon after downing a whole bottle of whiskey. The brute probably felt some sort of righteousness from sprucing the place up. Leon felt like his privacy had been violated. Not being able to remember anything didn’t help either.

The blonde glared back at the glass of what he was now sure was water. Leon’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment and anger at the thought of Redfield writing a note and preparing a glass intended for him. Was he thinking he was helping ? Was it just to rub it into Leon’s face later? Why? What gave Chris the idea he needed anything?

Leon grabbed the glass and threw it against the ground. The glass shattered, sending shards and water all across the floor. I don’t need any help from a self-righteous bastard like Redfield. Leon huffed, feeling better after breaking something.

‘I will be over at 18:00.’

Fuck.

The idea that Chris was going to hold this over Leon’s head felt more believable after remembering he was going to come back. Leon looked at the clock on the stove. It was already five pm. Leon had spent the majority of the afternoon searching his own apartment in vain.  He did not want to deal with this. Chris was just going to look down on him and lecture him in his condescending tone. Just like Colorado.

What did Redfield know anyway? Leon had dealt with so much loss. Pain. It hurt too much just to remember. Redfield took everything in stride and nothing seemed to get him down. The big hero. Leon thought back to the morgue, to Metro Squad. Getting that close to anyone again just meant more pain down the road in this war.

Leon couldn’t decide if he needed to punch something or needed a drink.

The headache was coming back. A simple solution crossed the agent’s mind. He just wouldn’t be here at six. Chris would call and Leon wouldn’t answer. He would eventually give up and Leon would do his best to ignore the ridicule that would surely follow. It wouldn’t be the first time after all.

Drinking won out. Leaving his phone on the island, Leon grabbed his wallet and keys off the table by his door and left. He would find another bar and wait it out. There was no way Leon was dealing with Chris Redfield this evening.

Notes:

Thank you all so much for the lovely comments and kudos!!! It really inspired me to write and post quicker than I anticipated. I just got so excited to share the story. This chapter was a bit shorter, but don't worry. I will make up for it later. ;) Please feel free to leave a comment. Thanks again!

Chapter 3: Back to the Drawing Board

Notes:

As always, thank you SO MUCH for the Kudos and comments~! ^_^ I read them all and love them so much. Sorry for the delayed update, but please enjoy. :D

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Chris decided the first day after jet lag sucked the most. He lost count of how many times one of his coworkers nudged him out of a stupor in his meetings. It wasn’t his fault the speakers were just so damn boring. It also wasn’t his fault he was up until 4 am dragging a friend home and cleaning an apartment. Chris shook his head for the umpteenth time that morning. Negative thoughts toward Leon would get them nowhere.

Leon didn’t make it easy though.

Chris checked his phone. He hadn’t heard anything from the blonde agent. He didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t like Leon had asked for help. Chris was just trying to do the right thing and be there for his friend. He wanted Leon to understand that he wasn’t the only one suffering. He didn’t have to fight alone.

The meetings finally wrapped up and Chris was set to do a presentation tomorrow on how he and his team had extracted the evidence from the not-so secret lab in Russia. The raven-haired man was sure executives just liked to hear exciting stories of their work in the field. They probably got off on him and men younger than him risking their lives in the war against bio-terrorism. He also had to type up a detailed report for the DSO and BSAA before the end of the week. It was half past four before he even made it out of the DSO building. He hopped into his rental and looked up the closest grocery store to Leon’s apartment. Driving brought with it silence and time to reflect.

Chris wasn’t a big fan.

He thought about what to get at the store, easily focusing on a task and putting together a mental list of different ingredients. His plan was simple: win Leon over with his cooking skills. From what Chris saw last night, the man hardly ate healthy, if he ate at all. None of those containers looked very fresh. If the strategy worked with wild animals, then why not Leon? He also wasn’t too keen on eating out all week and figured if he had access, he may as well make dinner for himself too. That is how I will approach it, Chris thought. Maybe if he worded it correctly, Leon wouldn’t be so stubborn. Chris was forced to think that way now. If he came off in any way as condescending or forcing help onto Leon, the agent would surely retract further, just like he did last night.

It would be impossible then.

Chris’ thoughts drifted to Leon. He tried to remember how Leon looked when he was happy. It had been so long since he had seen the younger man smile, genuinely elated about something. Years passed since Chris had seen Leon’s deep blue eyes light up with joy. Chris found he missed those bright eyes.

The more Chris thought about Leon, the more he came to the realization that he liked the blonde well before their falling out in China. In the few friend gatherings they had both been able to attend, Leon had been funny, charismatic, and just good-natured. He cared about people; that much was clear. Maybe it had something to do with going through the police academy, but Chris knew that was what had made Leon so much more attractive to him.

Maybe that was why Leon was having such an arduous time dealing with ghosts. He had become too attached, unable to separate himself from the people and the mission. Only a soldier could truly do that, and it was still difficult. Chris wanted to see Leon smile again. Whatever was between them could go to hell for all he cared. He was even willing to forget the hurtful words Leon had spat at him so many times. Leon deserved to be happy, and Chris wanted him to be happy. He only hoped the subtle gestures and small acts of kindness would be enough for Leon to realize it.

This was why he hated car rides.

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The store was fairly crowded when he arrived. It took Chris time to find what he needed, scavenging each aisle for another item on his mental checklist. Chris also grabbed some essentials like toilet paper and paper towels, unsure if Leon had anything like that. He added a couple of things to the cart that was not on the list; ice cream and whipped topping. Claire said Leon had a sweet tooth for pretty much anything. If anyone knew Leon, it was Claire.

Chris glanced at his phone again while waiting in the line for check out. Still nothing from the blonde. For some reason, it made him anxious that he hadn’t heard anything. Had Leon woken up? Did the note get read? He had included the time he was going to be by. Hopefully Leon was there.

He wanted to give Leon back his key. A spark of guilt set in thinking about the conscious decision Chris had made to take the key last night. He didn’t want Leon to mistrust him, but didn’t feel safe leaving the condo unlocked either. The cashier greeted him, halting Chris’ train of thought. They scanned his various items, he paid and quickly headed back to the car with his bounty in hand. From there, it was a short trip to the parking garage attached to Leon’s building. Chris easily carried all the grocery bags up to the condo in one trip. He gingerly knocked and waited for a response. He checked his watch. 18:02. He knocked again, louder this time, hoping Leon would answer.

He didn’t.

Chris exhaled and resorted to using the spare key he had taken. He mentally reminded himself it was not breaking and entering if he had a key. Still, Chris was unsure of how Leon would take it. He slowly opened the door, careful to balance the grocery bags so nothing would drop. The apartment was dark. Chris flicked on the light and gasped.

The entire condo had been ripped apart. Water and glass shards were scattered in front of the door. Chris tread cautiously around the broken glass and towards the kitchen. The countertops were covered in glassware and pans; cupboard doors ajar and empty. Several scraps of paper coated the kitchen floor. Chris gently placed the groceries on the mostly clear island. He glanced at the living room. It was not much better. The couch and armchair had been flipped; the contents of the cushions torn from their covers. What had happened here? Dread made Chris’ breath catch as he thought of Leon, who still hadn’t shown himself. He slid past the mess and into the bedroom.

Leon was gone. He checked the bathroom. The clothes and jacket Leon had worn from last night sat on the tile floor. He looked at the end table. His phone was gone too. Chris walked back to the kitchen, whipping out his phone and dialing the agent’s number. It took everything Chris had to maintain his composure. He heard the tonal ring on the receiver. He soon heard buzzing nearby, and Chris realized Leon’s phone was sitting on the island near his grocery bags. He hung up, defeated. It was then that the older man realized the glass that had been shattered onto the floor was probably the one he had left for Leon.

So much for small acts of kindness.

He quietly put groceries away; Chris didn’t want any of the refrigerated ones to spoil for sitting out too long. He was unsure what to do after that, so he called Claire.

“Hello?” he heard Claire answer the other end of the phone.

“Hey, Claire.”

She must have heard the mood in Chris’ voice. “Oh no. What happened?” She sounded concerned.

He hated stressing his sister out. She had enough to handle with work and such. This entire situation just sucked. “I honestly don’t know where to start,” he finally said.

“Start at the beginning then,” she offered.

Claire was too sweet. Chris spent the next twenty minutes laying out the previous evening, what he had done, and what Chris had come back to. As he went on, his voice became more strained. It was hard to hide his frustration as he finished.

“You sound exhausted,” Claire said.

“Honestly? I am. And now the asshole is missing.” Chris sat on Leon’s bed, unable to use the chair or couch. “AND his place is trashed…again.”

“Well, firstly,” Claire began, “I don’t think you did anything that overstepped any boundaries.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Let’s be honest, we aren’t sure how much he had to drink, but he probably blacked out,” Claire continued.

“Meaning he might not remember anything.” Chris hadn’t thought of that.

“Knowing Leon, the note was probably too vague? He may have gone to the extreme and thought someone had broken in or something.”

It made sense. Leon was with the secret services. The agent knew things that were top secret. He had suddenly woken up to his place spotless with only a mysterious note to go off of.  

“It’s the only thing that makes sense to me,” Claire finished. “He got spooked. Did you find his phone anywhere?”

“He left it here,” Chris answered.

“Then he probably isn’t far. Leon is smart and will probably be back later in the evening after whoever is supposed to show up at 18:00 comes and goes.”

“God bless you, Claire.” She was able to get into Leon’s head so easily, understanding certain actions he took. Chris was the wrong sibling for the job.

“Don’t mention it. Leon and I go way back. In Raccoon City, we had to learn really quickly how to work off of each other.”

“Now what should I do then? Wait for him? Won’t that make things worse?” Chris’ head was spinning with possibilities. Leon was seemingly unpredictable to him, and it made it difficult to plan things ahead of time. He scoffed, thinking of the agent again as a wild animal.

“I would stay,” Claire’s tone made her sound sure. “Should you even give back the key?”

“Why not?” Chris thought about how that conversation would go, and figured he should have an ambulance on stand-by.

Claire mused, “If he really jumped to conclusions that quickly, he is more paranoid than I thought. It would let you check on him, at least for the week anyway.”

“I don’t think that will help me build trust with him, Claire.” Chris was again unable to pin down how Leon would react to him having his key, let alone not wanting to part with it.

“Well, play it by ear then. But I’m positively sure you should wait for him and clarify some things.”

It was easy for Claire to say. She didn’t have a meeting at 0600 tomorrow after running on a few hours of sleep. “Alright,” Chris finally agreed.

“And whatever you do-”

“Don’t get upset. I know. It is the last thing he needs and he expects it from me.” Chris finished.

“We won’t count last night then.”

Chris had forgotten his small burst of outrage at Leon’s continuous quips. “It wasn’t my best moment. I’m really trying here.”

“I know.”

After saying their goodbyes, the older man looked around the condo again. It was a mess, sure, but at least it didn’t smell as bad as the night before. Chris stretched and decided to work off some of his frustration. After all, there was plenty to do.

Notes:

Updates are going to be closer to monthly moving forward because my beta-reader and I work too much. (haha us contributing to society) Poor Chris. I like to think he and Claire got closer as they got older cuz they only had each other and it is fluffy so I love it. :3

Chapter 4: Sudden Arrival

Summary:

Chris does his best to help.

Notes:

TRIGGER WARNING: anxiety and panic attacks. Read with caution. Click the link "More notes" for spoiler-related warning.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The first thing Chris did was start laundry. Thankfully, Leon’s apartment had a washer and dryer jutting off the bathroom. He gathered every article of clothing on the floor into a basket. Unsure of which ones were clean, he decidedly assumed they were all dirty. After separating them, he packed the washer and tidied up the bathroom. To his surprise, it wasn’t very dirty. He hung up Leon’s leather jacket in the closet and tossed the towels in with the dirty clothes. Leon’s shower was huge, definitely large enough for two. The showerhead was one of those fancy rainfall ones Chris would sometimes see advertised. He let his mind wander to the idea of Leon standing in the shower, fogging up the door and placing a wide handprint on the glass, smearing away the fog to reveal-

 

Chris physically shook away the thought as quickly as it had come. Definitely sleep deprived, Redfield.


He finished straightening the bathroom and stocked the cupboard under the sink with toiletries, thankful he had grabbed toilet paper. Chris noticed a bottle of shampoo and his jaw dropped. It was one of the cheap two-in-one shampoo/conditioner bottles. There was no way it was Leon’s. Just to be sure, Chris checked the shower and right there on the shelf was a partially used bottle of it, still wet from the last use.  


You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.


Chris moved to cleaning the bedroom, unable to wrap his brain around the concept. His hair was perfect. All. The. Time. How?! It was impossible. Chris tucked the piece of information away for future use. He hoped that he could ask Leon one day. Maybe. After collecting the clothing, there wasn’t much else to do in the bedroom. Chris noticed the large TV mounted across from the bed that he hadn’t yesterday. It was a miracle he hadn’t bumped his head on it. He also noticed the trash can…and its contents. Some of the vomit had gotten onto the floor, probably as Leon had been moving towards it. Thankfully, he had missed the bed.


Chris knelt down and cleaned up what he could from the carpet. He tied the trash bag and tossed it outside the bedroom. Joyful chirping came from the laundry room and Chris moved to exchange content from the washer to the dryer. Even with towels, there would only be two loads. He finally grabbed the throw blanket to fold it. It was soft, and Chris wondered if Leon enjoyed soft things. He took a whiff of the blanket to see if it needed washed as well. To his surprise, it had a pleasant aroma. Chris had expected the odor of alcohol, since the smell was imbedded into Leon’s clothes. Yet the blanket carried with it a hint of spice and cedar. It was probably Leon’s cologne. Chris couldn’t help but breathe in the scent. He wondered if he would ever get close enough to Leon to sense it on him.


Probably not. Chris quickly folded the blanket and placed it at the end of the bed, where it had been before its use. He left the bedroom and checked his phone again. 20:15. He was getting hungry now, yet there was still so much to do.


Leon had not returned yet.


Chris prayed to whatever listened he wasn’t out drowning his sorrows in a bottle. Silently, he tossed the small bag into the larger waste bin and went to work in the kitchen. It took a while to put everything away, but at least Chris would know where things were if he needed them. Chris decided to make himself a simple spaghetti dish with buttered bread. Unsure if Leon would return home, he decided to make enough for two; just in case.


He ate quickly, unaware of just how hungry he had been.  The extra was plated, covered in plastic wrap, and placed in the refrigerator. Chris unloaded the dishwasher and cleaned up. Each action seemed very domestic. The older man smiled at the thought. He wasn’t getting any younger, and Claire constantly teased him about settling down. He was still fighting though. Settling down wasn’t something he could do when there were threats to his family and friends in the world.


The washer called him again as he finished up loading dishes into the machine. He thought about tossing the clean laundry onto Leon’s gigantic bed and leaving it there for the bastard. Eventually, as he hoisted the last load into the dryer, Chris decided he would fold everything. Otherwise the articles of clothing may end up on the floor again.


While he was waiting for the last of the laundry, Chris grabbed the small broom from the laundry room and swept up the broken glass and paper that littered the kitchen. Chris’ heart sank. He should have expected this. Leon tried so hard to push people away, especially now. It had been a miracle Rebecca and himself had been able to talk the agent into helping with New York. What had made him feel the need to do everything alone? Chris desperately wanted to know. He finished wiping up the water and looked over to the furniture.


Chris tasked himself with putting the living room back together. Flipping the furniture was a simple task with how much he worked out. Getting the foam back into the cushion covers, however, was not. The flimsy fabric bent too easily and didn’t shape in a way that made any sense. Several attempts later, the chair’s one cushion was finally put together. At least now Chris would have a place to sit while he worked on the much larger set of pads for the couch. How had Leon managed to take them apart without ripping anything?


As Chris worked the stubborn material, his thoughts wandered again to Leon. He figured it had to be because he was trapped in his condo, working with furniture as stubborn as he was. There were no personal effects in the apartment. Even decoration was scarce, just a class photo hanging above the untouched desk in the corner. Windows lined over half of the living room, currently covered with thick blinds. Chris focused on the picture. There were several school-age children dressed in the same uniforms. They were lined up in front of a large, old building; probably a school. In the center was a man in a wheelchair dressed in a grey suit. It had to be sentimental for Leon to hang it up in his apartment. Was he in the picture? Chris spent the next 20 minutes examining the children. Three could have been Leon if his hair color had been the same when he was younger.

Chris was saddened. He knew so little about the younger man. He craved to know more. The soldier hoped Leon would take the hint that Chris cared about him. This wasn’t just because he wanted to save face. He locked more questions away for the future.


Please let there be a future.

After battling with the cushions for another hour, Chris was eventually successful in returning the couch, and the living room, to normal. He looked at the time again. 22:31. It was getting late. Still no sign of Leon. Trusting Claire knew what she was talking about, Chris had one final task: fold the laundry.


The towels were simple enough and easy to figure out where to go. Leon only had the two. Chris dumped the fresh laundry onto the bed to sort out. He picked through the different shirts, sweaters, and jeans. Under a particularly soft sweater Chris found something he was not expecting: a black thong. It was then Chris realized he would be folding the blonde’s underwear. His face heated up instantly at the lewd lingerie. The raven-haired man tossed the cloth into a drawer quickly, assuming Leon kept his socks and undergarments together.


There would surely be more, so Chris deftly picked out all of it together, chasing away any thought of Leon in just his underwear. With that embarrassment done, he gathered the remaining clothes and began hanging them up in the small closet. Chris noticed Leon had many sweaters, and several were soft material. His dress shirts were silky as well, giving a hint to their price tag.


So he does like soft things.


This small time being the younger man’s maid had allowed Chris to see glimpses into what Leon preferred. It was the only way to find anything out about the man. Chris’s mood lifted at discovering something new about Leon. He hoped it would help him figure out a way to help him.


As Chris placed the last of the folded jeans away a loud bang came from the apartment door. Immediately, the soldier in him came out and he hunkered down. Carefully, he crept to the bedroom door and looked around. He heard shuffling outside the apartment. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris saw Leon’s side arm hanging from a hook on the other side of the bedroom door frame. Chris grabbed it and cautiously moved into the open living room. He heard a loud bang again and he pointed the gun at the door, finger on the safety. The door burst open as a figure flew into the apartment, slamming the door behind him.


Chris instantly lowered his gun. “Leon?”


There was no response as the blonde locked the door and sank to the floor. Chris rushed over, placing the gun on the coffee table.  Leon hunkered in on himself. His breaths were rapid and uneven. “Leon, what’s going on?” Chris tried to get an answer. Ragged gasps turned into choked sobs as the agent clenched his eyes shut and hid his face. Chris had seen this pattern. Hell, he’d had one before.


A panic attack.


Chris touched Leon’s shoulder briefly for comfort and it was ice. The younger man didn’t have a coat on and had been in subzero temperatures. He zipped into the bedroom, grabbed the throw blanket, and covered Leon’s small frame. The blanket wrapped around him twice, like a cocoon. Chris rubbed Leon’s body all over, hoping to warm the agent. Leon was shaking badly. On edge, Chris grabbed the gun again and tucked into the back of his belt. He was unsure what was going on, but whatever it was had left Leon shaken.


Chris acted instinctively, doing what he would do with Claire when she had them. Chris enveloped Leon’s shaking form in his arms, gently holding him and drawing him closer to his chest. He made small sweeping motions on Leon’s shoulder with his thumb. Leon’s sobs worsened his breathing. “Everything is fine,” Chris whispered faintly, “You are safe. Just breathe, Leon…breathe.” He began counting and mimicking slow deep breaths. Leon needed to calm down, or he would pass out. Chris continued the rhythm for a long time, holding Leon gently, softly rubbing his shoulder, and repeating the same words, like a mantra.


Each time he finished the pattern, Leon’s breathing slowed more. Chris rested his head on Leon’s shoulder and he could feel the agent relaxing and his heartbeat slowing. Finally, the shaking stopped and Leon relaxed. Chris felt him shift a bit, lifting his head just for a split second before it flopped back down. Then Leon was trying to move his legs. Chris lifted his head and watched as the blanket shifted slightly, before the blonde gave up. He was probably exhausted. Panic attacks used up a lot of energy and made the muscles sore.


“Bed…” Leon’s tone was flat. If Chris hadn’t known better, he may have thought it was an order. With that lame attempt at moving his legs, Chris knew there was no way the agent was going to get to bed on his own. Chris stood and Leon shuddered again, wrapping himself tightly in the blanket. He worked quickly, shifting the comforter and sheet down so he could cover Leon in as many layers as possible. Chris put the gun in the holster and went back to the younger man.

The only way to move him was to lift him up bridal style. Chris tried not to think about it too much. Hopefully Leon wouldn’t either. With the blanket acting as a barrier, Chris lifted Leon’s body easily. Holding the agent close, Chris began walking slowly towards the bedroom. Embracing him now, it was apparent how much smaller Leon was compared to Chris. Leon shifted in Chris’s arms and he froze. The younger man rested his head on Chris’s shoulder, eyes half open and moist from crying. Chris’s cheeks heated up at the small gesture. The small movement brought Leon closer to Chris’s face. The soldier inhaled deeply, relishing in the scent of cedar and spice. His heart ached a bit at the situation they had to be in for the aroma to overrun his senses. When Leon closed his eyes again, Chris continued, careful not to jostle his crush too much.


He placed Leon gently onto the bed, pulling the blanket out from under him. He shifted to take of Leon’s boots and was stunned when Leon grabbed his shirt tightly. Chris looked down at the agent. His face was flushed, stained from tears streaking down his cheeks. His ocean-blue eyes were stormy and unfocussed with sleep heavily weighing down his eyelids. “Don’t leave.” Leon’s words were a desperate murmur, lips barely moving. Chris felt his chest throb as he gently took Leon’s cold hand, relaxing the death grip from his shirt. He removed Leon’s shoes, and covered the man in layers of blankets, tucking the hand Chris was holding underneath the heavy fabric.


“Just rest, alright?” He watched as Leon relaxed, letting sleep take him. Chris pulled the comforter up just a bit further. Leon’s aroma filtered out again, conquering his mind. How badly he wanted to embrace Leon again and warm him. Fall asleep with the younger man safe in his arms. There was no way he could. Chris didn’t know what had provoked the panic attack, and he didn’t want another one happening. The way Leon burst into the apartment, as if he was running from something triggered Chris back into soldier mode. He grabbed the gun again, and left only when he was sure Leon was in a deep sleep. Chris slipped into his coat and held the gun tightly to his chest under the insulated material.


Chris checked the peephole of the door. Nothing out of the ordinary. He gently flipped the deadbolt over and opened the entrance. He locked the door behind him and surveyed the long hallway. He hated hallways. Each door was just as it had been when he first arrived today. He moved to the staircase entrance and found it was the usual layout. Chris moved onto the landing, careful to look up and down over the railing. If Leon had been sprinting, he would not have used the elevators. Everything seemed still. Traveling downward, Chris traced Leon’s potential path.


The lobby was quiet as well. The wind gusted outside, blowing snow up into the air. Chris examined every corner of the entranceway. Nothing. He went outside, bracing against the harsh cold. To be sure, Chris made a walk around the perimeter of the building. Even the alleyways were well lit, illuminating frozen garbage and a dumpster Chris had become accustomed to the night before. Once Chris felt he had examined every inch of the outside building, he made his way back inside and upstairs. He locked the door behind him and as soundlessly as he could, he made his way back to the bedroom. Leon hadn’t moved.

Good.

 
Chris slipped the gun back into its place and closed the door. He checked the time. 00:21. Chris sighed, exhausted. Leon was safe for the moment. There were no threats around the area, except maybe the wind. He gripped his key in his hand and made for the door.


‘Don’t leave.’


Leon’s words echoed in Chris’s mind. He thought back to how he handled Claire’s panic attacks after Raccoon City. She wouldn’t want him to leave either. Even if she was just sleeping, she felt more at ease with someone there she could trust. Was that what Leon had been referring to? Unwilling to leave Leon alone, Chris gave in. He dropped his coat on the armchair, checked the door to make sure it was locked, flicked off the light, and made for the bedroom again. He sat next to the bed, on the floor, and rested his head against the mattress.


Chris yawned as he set an alarm on his watch. He’d slept in worse conditions. The older man closed his eyes and focused on Leon’s soft snores. Each little sound was like a lullaby to Chris, and the slow, paced rhythm made him relax more. Soon, with thoughts of Leon filling his mind, sleep took Chris as well.

 

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

 

Chris awoke to his alarm vibrating his wrist. He looked at the time: 04:30. Chris shut off the alarm and stretched stiffly, feeling his spine pop. He stood, sensing the awkward sleeping position in his neck and back. He looked towards the bed. Leon had barely shifted, only enough to almost immerse himself under the covers. Chris smiled and made his way to the living room.

 

Waking up seeing Leon is something I could get used to.

 

Chris closed the door behind him and moved over to the kitchen. His feet ached and Chris realized he had even slept in his boots. He flicked on the kitchen lights and worked fast, whipping out a Keurig cup and making himself a mug of coffee. He also scrambled some eggs in butter and added them to bread, making a sandwich. As he scarfed down food and drink, Chris thought of how he would need to borrow the spare key again. It seemed the conversation Claire had prepped him for wasn’t going to happen for a bit longer. He also thought about writing another note. It hadn’t seemed to work the first time, and Chris didn’t want to have to clean the place again.

 

He looked down at Leon’s phone as he popped the last piece of his sandwich into his mouth. Chris dialed Leon’s number, careful to mute the ringtone and sent it straight to voicemail. After leaving a message, he took Leon’s phone and decided to plug it in again. At least he didn’t have to dodge around piles of clothes this time. Chris entered the bedroom and plugged the phone in on the end table, seeing the voicemail icon light up.

 

Chris yawned again as the coffee began working to wake him up. The noise registered with Leon who stirred and groaned a bit. Chris set the phone down lightly, watching the younger man’s face contort in pain. Leon’s breath quickened slightly before settling back down into a soft snore. Chris exhaled slowly and snuck out of the room again.


Relief washed over Chris as he put his coat on. Hopeful Leon would get the message and understand, Chris hurried out of the apartment towards a fresh set of clothes and an almost forgotten presentation.

Notes:

Trigger Warning Spoilers: Chris witnesses Leon having a panic attack due to unknown causes and makes his best attempt at helping. If this may be triggering proceed with caution from "So he does like soft things" and pick up at "He placed Leon gently onto the bed".

This chapter was mostly fun to write. Anything that embarrasses Chris is just hilarious. Poor Leon. What could have happened? ;)

Thank you everyone who comments and gives kudos. I really appreciate them and they keep me motivated. You are all amazing. :)

Chapter 5: Cold Memories

Summary:

Leon's bar crawling doesn't end well.

Notes:

TRIGGER WARNING: anxiety and panic attacks. Read with caution. Click the link "More notes" for spoiler-related warning.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It was cold. Leon should have known. It was November after all. Apparently it had snowed as well. A good amount of the awful substance was pushed to the sides of the sidewalk. He cursed himself for forgetting a jacket. For a moment, he considered turning around back to the heat of the condo. There was no way he wanted to stay and deal with Chris though. After a few blocks, Leon came across a newer bar and grill. It catered to the younger crowd. Promises of a DJ, dance floor, and no judgement on who you went home with plastered the blackout windows. It was still early, but Leon was getting cold so he settled.

 

Upbeat music filled his ears instantly, reviving his headache to full force. Leon knew alcohol would fix that though. He settled towards the end of the bar and ordered whiskey straight. He sipped slowly, watching the locals gradually filter into the building. The liquor tingled the back of his throat in just the right way, throttling the headache and reheating his core. This type of bar wasn’t Leon’s style, but the threat of Redfield at his apartment combined with the cold air outside made it easier to tolerate.

 

The crowd thickened as Leon finished sipping his third glass. He started to feel normal. The dance floor was filling up with tipsy college kids. The way they flopped their bodies about put Leon on edge. Movements like that reminded him of the soulless creatures he fought. “What’s the time?” Leon asked the bartender, looking for a distraction from the darkness. The busy woman just pointed at the clock on the wall. 8:15. Leon smirked. It was easy to get lost at this bar, and time had passed quickly. Leon would give it a couple more hours at least.

 

After another glass, the bass-boosted music wasn’t sounding so bad, even if the DJ switched between songs too quickly for Leon’s taste. He let his mind wander with the tunes of the music. It was all inconsequential rhythms and lyrics meant only for dance.

 

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping him out of his own thoughts. Leon looked around to see who the hand was attached to. To his left was a tanned burly man, dressed in a simple white button-up and jeans. His jet black hair was spiked with gel and he smelt strongly of aftershave. Leon blinked a couple of times, confused.

 

“Earth to blondie, you there?” The younger man grinned from ear to ear, obviously poking fun.

 

He had a thick accent Leon couldn’t place.

 

“What?” Leon dragged out slowly, not sure how to respond to the stranger.

 

The man laughed, obviously enjoying Leon’s slow uptake on the conversation. “I asked you what your name was?”

 

“Oh.” Leon looked back at his glass. After a beat he responded, “Whiskey. You?”

 

“You’re name’s Whiskey?”

 

“Wait…no,” Leon had not heard the question right. The music and alcohol were working wonders on his thought processes.

 

The muscular man laughed boisterously, patting Leon on the shoulder. “Angela!” He waved over the bartender, “I’ll have whatever he’s having!”

 

Angela laughed. “You can’t afford it, Javier. He’s drinking top shelf.” Javier looked back at Leon, a shocked expression on his face. Leon just smiled weakly, picked up his glass and finished what was left in swig.

 

Javier licked his lips, and Leon noticed desire flash across his face before he was grinning from ear to ear again. “Now I have to know your name!”

 

“It’s Leon,” He finally answered.

 

“Well Leon, the name’s Javier. I was going to offer to get your next drink, but I am afraid it is above my paygrade.” Javier blushed and scratched the back of his neck. The music changed in the background to something slower.

 

“No hard feelings,” Leon brushed off. He waved Angela back over and ordered another for himself and one for Javier. “Put it on my tab.”

 

Javier blushed again and sat down next to Leon. He watched as Angela pulled down a bottle from the top shelf of dark amber-colored liquid and filled two glasses. She slid them over to the two men and Javier looked like a grade-schooler in a candy shop. “This did not go as I had planned it.”

 

There it was. It was obvious what the younger man was trying to do now.

 

“You had a plan?” Leon smiled. It felt good to smile. Javier seemed to do it a lot. The company was lifting Leon’s mood. Even the crowd of dancers wasn’t affecting him as much.

 

Javier laughed heartily again. He took the drink like a shot and almost immediately coughed. He pounded his chest hard, trying to keep the strong liquor down. “You have a stomach of steel!” Javier joked between coughs.

 

“You’re supposed to sip it, but sure. We’ll go with that.”

 

He waved over Angela who was visually amused. “I don’t want that, again, you succubus.”

 

“Hey I warned you. This guy can take his liquor. You, obviously cannot.” She pointed and placed a hand on her hip.

 

They all exchanged laughs at the expense of Javier’s pride. “I want a long island,” he sulked.

 

“Sure thing, player.” Angela quickly made the drink and winked at Leon as she slid it over to Javier. Leon leisurely sipped his own beverage.

 

Javier quickly downed two long islands in the span of Leon’s one drink. Angela warned him to slow down, but he ordered a third against her protests. The younger man was loosening up.

 

“How come I have not seen you in this bar before, Leon?” Javier inquired. There was alcohol on his breath.

 

Leon shrugged, taking another drink from Angela. Was it his fifth or sixth? He couldn’t remember. “It isn’t really my speed.”

 

“Then what brought you in?”

 

Leon looked at Javier again. His eyes were a bright green and they popped against dark eyebrows. He looked young. And fit. Leon couldn’t help but let his mind wander towards more mature thoughts.

 

“The company.”

 

Javier laughed heartily again, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. Leon thought the reddish hue looked good on the younger man. Javier laughed a lot. It was a warm, comforting laugh though. The younger man went to lean on his elbow but slipped, smacking his head into the bar. Javier raised his himself, clearly embarrassed.

 

Leon couldn’t help but laugh at the younger man’s feat. Javier smiled wider and Leon didn’t mind when he felt a hand on his knee.

 

The music had picked up again, louder than before. Javier was closer now. He whispered into Leon’s ear, warm breath caressing his neck, “Your laugh is voluptuous.”

 

Leon had been down this path before. It was a nice distraction for him. “Such big words. Are you trying to impress me after that…slip up?”

 

Javier chuckled against Leon’s skin, sending a lust-filled shudder down his spine. “Is it working?”

 

Leon turned his head slightly to look at Javier. He was so close Leon could pick out gold flakes in his green eyes. Javier’s grin faded and he closed the distance. The kiss was like fire against Leon’s lips, strong and chaste. It ended quickly with Javier beaming. “You’re expression said yes. Or maybe it is the spirits?” He winked and Leon felt the hand rub farther up his leg.

 

“How old are you?”

 

The younger man looked taken aback. “Does that matter?”

 

“It would put my mind at ease if I knew I wasn’t robbing a cradle.”

 

Javier boomed with laughter. “There is no way you are older than thirty, Leon, which is how old I am.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “No way!”

 

The agent just smiled. The alcohol had begun clouding his mind, making his senses hyperaware. Javier was nice…and pretty. The distraction left Leon forgetting what brought him to the bar in the first place. He focused on the soft touches Javier gave, enhanced by the liquor.

 

Leon silently thanked his genes for not giving away his age. The blonde leaned towards the younger man’s ear; his voice a whisper. “You would be surprised, Javier.” He heard Javier’s breath hitch. His voice must have come off as more lustful than he intended.

 

“My name sounds amazing coming from your lips.” Javier’s eyes were no longer joyful and light. A weight of lust had clouded them and the hand on Leon’s thigh tightened. “Say it again.”

 

Leon leaned closer, letting his lips barely brush Javier’s ear. “Maybe if you ask nicely,” he whispered. He enjoyed the shaky breath Javier let out; how the hand on his thigh scratched into his jeans with an urgency only desire could bring.

 

It took a conscious effort for Leon to turn and finish his beverage. He quickly waved over Angela and closed his tab. Javier did the same, downing almost another full glass of long island. His movements were different, Leon noticed. More fluid and eager. Angela shot Leon a look and mouthed “Have fun,” to Javier before looking between the two and taking their payments.

 

Javier glanced to the dance floor. It was crowded. The song changed and he grabbed Leon’s hand, excited. “Leon, can we dance? I love this song!” He was beaming again and that smile was infectious.

 

Before Leon could protest, Javier was tugging him towards the center of the bar. The dance floor was raised slightly above ground level. Several cups and puddles of liquid littered the area beneath people dancing. Javier drew Leon into the crowd. Heat encapsulated Leon from all sides as the sounds of the bass grew louder than he thought possible. Lights pulsated and flashed quickly with the beat. Javier cheered loudly and looked back at Leon, all smiles.

 

The agent felt a bump between his shoulders and turned just as a woman fell to the dance floor. The strobe lights started up, making everyone’s movements seem choppy. In between flashes, Leon caught a glimpse of red covering the woman’s white blouse. The agent’s breath hitched for just a moment.

 

Blood?

 

He knelt down to look at her. She was very much alive, giggling and attempting to stand. There were no screams or growls underneath the booming music. Leon closed his eyes and tried to focus. He inhaled deeply. No scent of metal or decay. He looked again and the red he had seen earlier was actually pink. A drink stain. Still, Leon’s heart was racing. He helped the woman to her feet. She wobbled, unsteady, before another person dragged her away.

 

He turned back to Javier, thankful the younger man stayed close by. As Javier took Leon’s hand again, he tried to control his breathing. The agent felt on edge and needed to relax. Leon closed his eyes and took deep, ragged breath.

 

Suddenly, another man fell into him, knocking Leon into a group of people. Javier’s grip slipped as Leon plummeted to the dance floor. The man on top of him pushed into his knees to stand back up, leaving the agent pinned. Leon’s breath caught in his throat and he heard his heartbeat in his ears. In a panic, he reached for his sidearm. Leon’s trigger finger twitched as if he were shooting something.

 

Except the gun wasn’t there.

 

A strong support weaved under Leon’s arm and pulled him out from under the hold. The agent let out a breath he had been holding and stood. His knees were shaky.

 

Looking back, the man was also very alive. People began looking at the scene, several patrons knocked prone in an entanglement of limbs. The strong grip on Leon’s arm pulled away. He looked over to see Javier, concern darkening his face.

 

“Leon? Everything okay?” Javier’s voice sounded distant to the blonde. Leon looked back at the scene. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Just drunk college kids laughing and flopping about. There was no cause to panic.

 

Yet his chest was tightening and his breathing was coming quicker. Leon tried to take another deep breath, but it came in short and uneven. The small amount of time was enough for his adrenaline to kick in.

 

He knew this was a normal bar. There was no reason to fight or run.

 

Calm down already.

 

“I….I need fresh air,” he mumbled and rushed as fast as he could without running to the exit. Leon was vaguely aware of Javier following close behind him. The cold air blasted his body, unrelenting. Leon tried to take a few deep breaths, to slow his breathing. The wintry air he inhaled hurt his chest, and he rested his hands on his knees.

 

“Leon, you will catch your death out here…come. Let us go back inside, please.” Javier was rubbing his back. The blonde shook his head.

 

If I’d had a gun…

 

The realization dawned on Leon, sending a different wave of terror through his core. Leon pushed away from Javier’s touch, feeling disgusted. He leaned against a light pole, the metal freezing his skin through the sweater.

 

 I would have shot him…he’s just a kid…

 

Leon’s chest burned. He gripped his sweater tightly, feeling his heart race. He hadn’t even hesitated, just assumed he was in danger. He was supposed to protect people, not shoot them in a fright. How the hell could he have even thought that?

 

“Hey.” It was Javier again. Leon closed his eyes, just wishing he would leave.

 

Don’t you see how revolting I am?

 

“It is normal to feel overwhelmed on a dance floor. Please, Leon…you are shaking.”

 

There was nothing normal about this. Leon was aware he shouldn’t be acting this way; so on edge he would shoot a civilian, fearful it was the walking dead.

 

There was an abrupt banging sound. Leon jumped and his arm twitched again to his thigh. He looked toward the sound to see clumsy customers filing out of the building, putting strain on the door and its hinges. The scene reminded him of something much more sinister. Javier touched his shoulder and it was too much.

 

Leon ran.

 

He sprinted towards home, body aching against the cold. His chest heaved with each breath. It didn’t take long for the wintry air to pierce through his clothing, but he couldn’t stop. It was the coldest Leon had ever felt. The sound of feet slamming against the concrete synched with his heartbeat as he ran faster and faster.

 

Leon came up on his building. The agent erupted through the apartment complex entrance. His legs carried him to the stairs and then he was bolting up them, three at a time. His lungs felt like they were starving as his legs grew heavier with each step. Finally, he reached his floor and darted down the hallway. Oxygen was all but lost to him and dark spots floated on the edge of his vision.

 

He fumbled with his keys and burst into his apartment. Leon slammed the entrance shut and leaned his back onto the hard wood. The agent clicked the lock and slid down to the floor, lungs gasping for air. Leon clutched his chest so tight, he thought the fabric would rip. He felt dizzy. Wrapping his arms around his knees, Leon let his head fall. He could only hear his own heartbeat; only saw darkness.

 

The entire scene replayed over and over in Leon’s head.

 

I thought the kid was a threat…

 

Leon felt his breath catch more often as sobs worked their way out.

 

I would have shot him…

 

Tears stained his cheeks, wet and heavy.

 

I would have killed-

 

Soft warmth enveloped Leon, halting the spiraling train of thoughts. Something was rubbing his back, his arms…legs. The touch paralyzed his body, sending bolts of fire through his icy veins. He realized he was shaking. Leon grasped supple fabric with his hands. There was a weight surrounding him now. It felt so very warm. Familiar. The rubbing had focused to his shoulder, slow and soothing. The warmth was comforting…gentle.

 

Safe.

 

After what felt like an eternity, his breathing became easier and his heartbeat wasn’t so loud. He heard distant mumbles; hushed, low sounds that made his mind feel heavy. The peaceful heat brought with it exhaustion. Leon let out a yawn. His body hurt, heavy from the rush of adrenaline. The grotesque feeling still gnawed at his insides, but his mind was too tired to focus on anything anymore.

 

Leon wanted to sleep; his entire being yearned for it. He looked up, eyes bleary from the tears. The agent felt a shifting weight and he realized he was wrapped in a blanket…and he was being hugged. He let his head fall again, as if the weight of his thoughts were too heavy for his neck to hold upright.

 

Who was hugging him? His mind was sluggish. Javier? Memories of a bright smile and lavish green eyes made his stomach tighten with regret. Leon was at his limit. He couldn’t fathom the idea of doing anything other than sleep. He wanted his bed…wanted rest. Maybe…hopefully, Javier would understand.

 

Leon focused on moving his legs, but they did not do as commanded. They were jelly, and he probably couldn’t event stand. “Bed…” Leon mumbled. His voice sounded hoarse and quiet, lacking any emotion or enthusiasm. It was more for himself, like a goal. That was where he wanted to be. Nothing else matters. Instantly the warmth was gone. Leon’s body shivered at the loss, curling into the blanket more.

 

Okay, two things matter.

 

Leon felt weightless as someone strong lifted him off the ground, blanket and all. He gasped as warmth returned to half of his body and he held onto the soft fabric tightly. The blonde rested his head on a broad shoulder. His eyelids were heavy, but he could make out tufts of black hair and a strong jawline.

 

Leon’s body brushed against the giving mattress of his bed. Finally. The person shifted to let go of Leon. The blonde grabbed a fistful of shirt, making the source of warmth stop moving. “Don’t leave,” he mumbled, not wanting the heat to disappear. He looked up between half-closed lids. The silhouette was illuminated by the light from the living room.  A warm hand gently released Leon’s grip from the material and tucked it under the blankets.

 

The person leaned in and light illuminated deep coffee-colored eyes. “Just rest, alright?” The voice was tender. Leon sighed as sleep finally took hold.

 

Notes:

Trigger Warning Spoilers: Leon experiences an anxiety attack. If this may be triggering proceed with caution from "The agent’s breath hitched for just a moment." and pick up at "The warmth was comforting…gentle".

This chapter was difficult to write, mostly because writing a character you care about in a situation where they are suffering seemed hard for me. Also I suck at flirtation dialog so there's that too. :P

I can't believe how many comments and bookmarks my work is getting. WHAAA?! It's amazing and humbling. Thank you all truly. :D I'll try to not do too many alternative perspective chapters, but I wanted to hint at what Leon's issues are so we could tackle them later. ;)

Chapter 6: Aftermath

Summary:

Leon struggles to remember an eventful night.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Leon’s entire body hated him. His chest felt like he had been punched by a Tyrant, and it was a strain every time he inhaled. Moving his arms and legs were an undertaking. Then there was the headache, protesting if the blonde even tried to open his eyes. Combined with an overwhelming tiredness, Leon’s brain was mush; unwilling to think. Like an alarm, his bladder commanded he get up. Today felt like a painkiller kind of day. Leon worked his way to the bathroom, appreciative his stomach kept its constitution at least. His legs were unstable and sore.

 

After doing business and downing some pills and water, Leon collapsed back onto the bed and waited for medicine to work its magic. He wasn’t the biggest fan of taking medications but there were too many times after returning from a mission where he needed it. A soft light blinked in the darkness, making Leon lift his head to find the source. His phone sat on the side table attached to the charger. He went to reach for it but immediately regretted shifting. Groaning, he lifted his body and rolled to the other side of the bed. After resting a bit longer, he looked at the phone again. Leon felt his headache ebbing away as he easily disconnected the phone from the charger. He checked it and immediately felt is stomach flip.

 

1 Missed Call – Asshole Redfield. 1 Voicemail – Asshole Redfield.

 

Leon let the phone fall onto his stomach. Memories from last night flicked through his head. There had been a bar, a cute guy. Ha-something? It was foreign; Hispanic maybe. Then a dance floor, warm bodies on his. He had run in the cold; panicked. Someone had been there while he was crumpled on the floor; had put him in bed. He slowly let his mind work through the memories.

 

I had a panic attack.

 

He hadn’t experienced one since Tall Oaks. No wonder his body loathed him. He would need to sort out what caused it after his brain started working better. He turned onto his side and looked at the phone again. Chris had called him; left him a voicemail. Leon smacked his face, not wanting to deal with the older Redfield sibling. He had avoided him last night, so it was probably something patronizing about that. Instead of dealing with it, Leon flipped off the device with his middle finger and lifted himself up again. The medicine was working through his system bit by bit. A shower would help too. He set to the task and ended up resting on the shower floor. Hot water relaxed the muscles and the steam made breathing a little easier.

 

Leon figured a button up shirt would be best to wear so he wouldn’t have to lift his arms too high. When he returned to the bedroom, however, his clothes were not easily accessible on the floor.

 

The agent opened his closet and found most of his clothing neatly hanging. His dresser was full of folded clothes too. “You’re kidding,” Leon mumbled to himself as he got dressed. Someone had done laundry.

 

But when?

 

In a huff, Leon snatched the phone back up. Listening to the damn message was inevitable and Leon couldn’t ignore a lead staring him in the face. His fingers fumbled with the notification screen and the device had begun dialing Chris. “Shit,” he stammered, quickly smacking the end call button. He hoped he ended the call in time for it not to send a notification to the older man. Actually talking to him was not something Leon wanted to do, like ever.

 

Trying again, he opened his voicemail app, hit speaker, and played the message:

 

“Hey, Leon. It’s Chris.”

 

That did not sound like the Redfield Leon knew.

 

“I figured leaving a message might be better than writing a note again…so here goes…”

 

“I’m not sure what happened last night, but you came back having a panic attack.”

 

Leon felt a pit form in his stomach.

 

“I stayed with you and talked you through it. I’m sorry I had to leave you this morning.”

 

Chris’s voice was quieter, “I hope you’re okay.”

 

“I have your spare key and should be able to come by around six tonight to return it.”

 

There was a long pause. Leon looked down to check if the message was still playing.

The last part was barely audible. “Please be there…Please.”

 

The message ended and Leon sat in silence for a while, processing what he had heard. The agent let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Leon covered his mouth, physically sick to his stomach.

 

Chris had seen.

 

Leon remembered someone wrapping him in a blanket; holding him. He had been carried to bed; not wanted whoever the heat source was to leave. Coffee-colored eyes, liquid and warm had been the last thing he’d seen before sleep clouded his mind.

 

‘Just rest, alright.’

 

Chris’s eyes. It had been him. The soldier had seen Leon break down. Why did it have to be Chris? Anyone but him. The whole world could know for all he cared if it meant Redfield didn’t. Leon’s veins felt ice cold as if he had been doused in freezing water. The self-righteous prick had seen Leon at his most vulnerable.

 

It wasn’t enough he cleaned the place? What more did Chris want to hold over his head like some pious paragon? Now Leon felt like shit and was in a sour mood. As if on instinct, Leon left his bedroom and went to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He stopped just outside the doorway, mouth agape. The entire place was clean…. again.

 

‘I have your spare key…’

 

That explains the laundry.

 

Chris had shown up last night to the mess Leon had made. He had gotten into the condo with the key and waited for Leon to come home. That was probably when he had done Leon’s laundry too.

 

What the fuck was that asshole thinking?

 

Leon couldn’t even begin to understand what had possessed Chris to clean his place once, let alone twice. Was the man trying to mind fuck him? None of it made any sense! He resolved to Chris having some self-righteous morality that made him feel good for doing petty bullshit.

 

I need a drink.

 

Leon made his way to the bar, poured himself some whiskey, and downed the contents in one go. The familiar heat ran down his throat and settled in his stomach. The act brought back with it memories of the hunk last night failing the same action. He poured himself another glass as a twinge of guilt jabbed at his heart. He had left without explanation. At least, that is what it would look like. Leon tried to focus on what had freaked him out so much he had to run. There had been an incident on the dance floor; a woman falling. A man holding his legs down; crawling towards him?

 

No.

 

The man had just been trying to stand, using Leon’s body as leverage. Leon looked at his hand and dread filled his mind. He had tried to pull his gun…on a civilian. His finger twitched at the thought. Fear had completely taken over the moment, controlling and dangerous. There had been another scene: bodies piling through a doorway. They had just been kids leaving the bar, but the scene brought back too many real circumstances. Leon’s hand began shaking and he clenched the beverage, trying to still it.

 

The agent helped calm himself with alcohol, finishing another glass. Leon was sure the attack had started with the woman falling. The other two instances had just intensified the situation. What still horrified the blonde was he had instinctively felt in danger; had wanted to defend himself.

 

Leon sighed. The evening had begun with him on edge because of Redfield. Part of him blamed the older man for stressing him out so much.  He hated to admit it, but it could be the job too. The agent had been in a few too many life-and-death situations. Leon felt his stomach growl and realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. As the blonde went to rinse out his glass, he noticed a plump loaf of bread on the counter.

 

Huh.

 

When had he bought bread? He set the glass down and nonchalantly opened the fridge. It was packed full of various types of food. There were eggs, cheese, different types of meat, and even milk. I can’t remember the last time I had milk.

 

On the top shelf there was a plate wrapped in plastic. Leon took it out-spaghetti. For the second time today Leon felt his jaw drop. Chris had gotten food. Leon checked his pantry and there were crackers, bread crumbs, a few stove top meals, canned beans, and paper towels.

 

Leon sat down on one of the bar stools, still holding the plate of spaghetti. He agonized over the idea of Redfield coming over and making dinner, trying desperately to make any meaning out of the actions. The only thing that came to mind as motivation led back to Chris holding this over his head. Leon left the plate of food on the counter, refusing to eat anything made by someone so high in the clouds on his good deeds. Instead, Leon grabbed his jacket and went to leave. He would get food somewhere else. Chris could buy all the food in the world and Leon wouldn’t eat it. Not if it meant Chris could use it against him in some way. It didn’t matter how long Leon was out anyway. Chris had a key and would probably wait for him again so he could mock the blonde’s behavior.

 

Leon stepped into the hallway. The white walls seemed too clean. The fluorescent lighting glared down from the ceiling, illuminating bleach white tile. Ominous shadows seemingly leapt from each door frame, creating an uneasy feeling in Leon’s stomach.

 

Had the hallway always looked like this?

 

Methodically, Leon locked his door and headed towards the elevator. Half way down the hall, he heard the standard ‘ding’ of the elevator arriving on his floor. For just a moment something primal in the back of Leon’s mind made his jaw clench and his hand drop to his thigh, feeling for a holster that wasn’t there. A couple came out from the elevator giggling and joking. They moved to a door down the hall.

 

Once the couple disappeared into their apartment, Leon exhaled. He closed his eyes, feeling his heart pick up speed. Yet again he had overreacted. He was tense…too tense for a trip to his favorite pizzeria. Defeated, the agent turned on his heels and made his way back into the condo.

His stomach protested again and Leon swallowed hard. Spaghetti wasn’t sounding so bad. He decided to try it, not wanting to think too hard about who made it and why. His mouth watered with the smell of basil and garlic as the meal began reheating in his microwave. Leon quickly downed the food. It tasted pretty good considering who made it.

With his stomach satisfied Leon poured himself more alcohol in the freshly cleaned glass. He swirled the brown liquid, as if the act would hypnotize himself into a calm state of mind. He looked at the stove clock. 4:15. Chris would be here in a couple of hours and there was nothing Leon could do about it.

 

After deliberating over another glass of whiskey, Leon came to the conclusion that crowds were probably not good for him; specifically dance floors. The entire series of events was because he was uncomfortable in that situation. Leon blamed the hallway on him still being nervous from the panic attack.

 

To pass the time, Leon grabbed his gun and cleaning kit. A part of him wanted to prove to himself that holding the firearm wasn’t the issue. Handling the weapon put his mind a little at ease. He was in control of the gun, not his fear. Only he could take the safety off…pull the trigger. Using the coffee table, the agent took it apart easily. The magazine slipped out and the bullet in the chamber daintily fell onto the cloth of the cleaning kit. After cleaning the metal and checking the bullets in the clip, he set everything down and grabbed the stray bullet.

 

His thoughts shifted. He fought so much with nothing to show for it. Each bullet he used didn’t bring him any closer to winning this war.  Leon closed his eyes and rested the bullet against his forehead. No matter how much he fought, people he cared about still suffered…still died. He thought back to Eastern Slav; to his conversation with Buddy.

 

‘Once we pick up that gun…we owe it to the people who died along the way.’

 

Leon sighed, feeling the cool metal against his skin. Isn’t my debt paid? How long can I keep fighting?

 

Soft knocking made the agent gasp and jump up. It was coming from his apartment door. Putting down the bullet, he looked at the clock. 5:58.

 

Leon swallowed hard, knowing who was behind the wooden frame. After a pause there were a few more knocks, louder than before. The blonde huffed and opened the door, irritated. In his doorway was Chris Redfield. “Don’t you have a key?” The annoyance was clear in Leon’s voice, but he didn’t care. The entire situation irked him.

 

“I do,” Chris answered quietly. He sounded like he had on the voicemail. Something was off but Leon couldn’t place it. “May I come in?”

 

“Now you ask?” The agent walked away from the door and back to the coffee table, leaving it open. He heard Chris step inside and close the door.

 

Chris’s jaw flexed and he sighed. “You’re right,” was all Chris said.  

 

Leon hadn’t expected that. He turned to see Chris shrug off his coat. The older man reached into his pocket and pulled out something. He walked over to Leon and held out his hand. In his palm was a small key…Leon’s key.

 

He took the key from Chris’s hand slowly. As Leon moved his hand away, Chris grabbed his wrist. The hold was gentle and brought with it a familiar warmth.

 

“I wanted to give that back to you because I trust you, Leon.” Chris let go of Leon’s wrist and moved to the kitchen.

 

Leon clenched his fist, metal digging into his palm. He watched Redfield clean the dirty plate and pull out ingredients for a meal. This man had invaded his home, cleaned it, and was now moving around the damn kitchen like he owned it. Trust? Yeah, right.

 

“That makes one of us,” Leon spat, turning on his heel and returning the key to its designated space.  

 

There was a long pause of silence, “I don’t expect you to trust me,” Chris returned gently. The scent of ground beef sizzling in a pan wafted through the apartment. It had a hint of spice and heat that stung Leon’s nostrils and made his stomach growl in anticipation against his will. He only trusted Chris on the battlefield or when it came to his sister. Everything else had always had an ulterior motive. “Tsk,” Leon poured himself more whiskey knowing he would need it to deal with Redfield for more than five minutes. “Then what do you expect me to do?” Acid dripped in his words.

 

Chris turned, eyes downcast, and held up a blue and yellow box. “Tell me if you like noodles in your chili?” He jostled the box, hard pasta sounding like a maraca against the cardboard. He waited for an answer. Leon scrutinized his features. They were soft and patient; no smirk or glint of humor in his eyes.

 

“No, I don’t…” Leon finally answered.

 

Relief escaped Chris’s lips as he put the noodles back into the cupboard. “Good. Me either.”

“Why are you cooking?” Leon’s jaw tightened in irritation. Chris hadn’t asked to do anything. He’d just started doing it. That pertained to more than just cooking food of course, but Leon hadn’t asked him to do anything either. It made no sense to the blonde’s tipsy mind.

 

Redfield flipped meat in the frying pan and added a can of something Leon didn’t recognize. He heard him sigh. “I knew I was going to be by and figured I would whip something up for you, as an apology.”

 

Leon finished putting his gun and kit away while he listened to the explanation. “You? Apologize? Okay…” he scoffed. The skepticism was all over Leon’s mood. Since when did Redfield say he was sorry about anything? Leon settled on a stool at the island, his mind swimming with booze.

 

Chris turned down the heat of the stovetop, letting the food simmer. He turned and leaned on the island. His posturing was open but wary, slouching as if he was ashamed of his height. “I’m sorry,” Chris’s voice was a whisper, “For a lot of things.” Deep blue eyes met earthy brown. They were the kind of brown seen after a summer rain; rich and wet. The sorrow was clear in the soldier’s face. Leon’s expression hardened. He wasn’t buying it. There was something else he was missing. It was clear Chris had a motive to do what he did. Leon just hadn’t figured it out. A horrible thought crossed his mind. “How’s Claire?” The blonde fought back the panicked thoughts that had entered his head.

 

“Claire? She’s great,” a smile tugged at the soldier’s lips. Leon let relief wash over him. One thing I can trust about you. He watched the raven-haired man pull out crackers and set up bowls, serving the food in each. “Here.” Redfield sat next to Leon with the same careful and open position. The chili was piping hot. The older man pulled out a bag of cheese and spread a copious amount onto his portion.

 

They ate in silence, Chris occasionally coughing and shifting. He hissed more than once when he took a bite that was too hot. The food was good, but a bit spicy. Leon ate slowly, not wanting to give away he enjoyed it.

 

“Does it taste okay?” Chris asked, his voice quiet. “Claire says I use too many spices…”

 

“She’s right,” Leon ridiculed.

Chris nodded and waited a beat before answering, “Oh…yeah. She usually is.” Despite belittling the meal, Leon finished the whole bowl. It warmed his stomach and made him feel sleepy. Chris tidied up quickly and pulled out more dishes. “I hope you saved a little room.”

 

“How are you not fat?” Leon jeered.

 

“I-I work out,” Chris stuttered. Was that a blush? “But seriously,” Chris opened the freezer and pulled out a small, colorful container, “I have dessert.”

 

Is that…ice cream?

 

A small spark of joy lit up inside Leon at the sight of the vanilla and chocolate swirls Chris divided between two dishes. The blonde licked his lips. With his job and everything he had been going through the past few months, Leon hadn’t treated himself to one of his favorite foods. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he went to the store. He watched the older man toss the empty container and open the fridge again.

 

No…

 

Chris’s eyes were twinkling as he loaded whipped cream onto the frozen treat. Leon half expected him to have cherries too. Chris slid the decorated morsel over to Leon. “Do you like ice cream?”

 

Do I like ice cream? Who fucking doesn’t? Leon wanted to say but caught himself. Over the years of training and battling there was an innate code that kept him alive: Don’t show weakness. Chris had already seen Leon vulnerable, and he didn’t trust the man. He refused to show any more willingly. Leon picked up the spoon and poked at the whipped cream, keeping his tone even, “It’s okay.”

 

The edges of Chris’s lips tugged again but didn’t form a smile. He dug into his own bowl. Leon ate more quickly, knowing full well he was going too fast to maintain the facade that ice cream was just ‘okay’. He couldn’t help it though. It had been ages since he had enjoyed the creamy substance. The frozen delicacy went straight to his head and he grimaced.

 

“Apology accepted?” Chris tested.

 

Leon glared at the older man. “No.” His tone was frank. Instantly Chris dropped his eyes, he looked at a loss for words. The question had put Leon in a bad mood again. He was tired to boot. Chris followed the same motions with the dishes, putting them into the machine to clean. Leon yawned. The pain killers were wearing off, making his body stiff. It wasn’t late, but all he could think about was bed.

 

The agent pushed off the island to stand. As soon as he moved, his head became dizzy from the booze and his legs weakened from the soreness. Caught off guard, his knees buckled and he slid to the floor, knocking over the stool in the process. “Aaah…” Leon hissed at his complaining muscles.

 

Chris was suddenly in front of him, concern etched in his face. “Leon, you okay?” He asked as he picked up the stool and shoved it out of the way.

 

Don’t look at me like that. “I’m right where I want to be.” He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, betraying his cool and collected remark. Fuck. Of course he had to fall in front of Chris. Just. Fucking. Great.

 

“Here.” Chris was moving an arm under Leon’s to lift him up and he couldn’t take it. The warm touch reminded him of last night; being carried because he was too weak to carry himself. It stung his pride. He twisted away from the touch and shoved his hands hard into Redfield’s chest. The older man backed away, a shocked and pained expression on his features. “Leon?”

 

Chris’s voice was laced with pity and it sickened him. “Don’t fucking touch me, Redfield.” Leon didn’t need any pity. The heat from Chris’s touch lingered on his arm, as if it were branding him with shame from the weakness he felt.

 

Chris moved closer and cautiously put out his hand. Anger seethed through Leon as he scowled at the gesture. Each moment between them reminded him of how helpless he had been the night before. He wanted Chris gone. “Get out.”

 

Leon watched as Chris’s head dropped, jaw tightening slightly. The hand dropped to Redfield’s side as he stood. “Okay.”

 

Agonizing stillness followed as Leon watched Chris gather his coat and head towards the door. The older man glanced back once more to Leon. It was clear in his expression that he was worried...and hurt. Leon didn’t care. His eyes narrowed in frustration as Redfield left.

 

After a moment, Leon heard footsteps. He let them disappear before he used the stool to lift himself up. Once he was steady, the blonde hobbled to the door to lock it. Pain darted through his entire body. He punched the wood hard and gritted his teeth. Leon was sure Redfield had seen enough to satisfy whatever desire he had to know he was better than him.

Still the warmth of Chris’s touch remained, taunting him. Leon made his way to painkillers. They would numb his muscles and his thoughts. He laid in bed drearily until sleep seized him, thinking about anything but Redfield.

Notes:

Thank you so much for sticking with me so far. It's a treat to know so many people enjoy resident evil as much as I do and like this story to boot! I feel super lucky to have you guys and an amazing editor. :D Also, in my head Resident Evil: Vendetta took place a little after Resident Evil 6, Since RE: Vendetta doesn't really have a set time it occurs. So that is the timeline this story is based off of. :)

Chapter 7: Ways to Have a Good Time

Summary:

Leon goes to work out his frustrations and meets someone he didn't expect to see again.

Notes:

Omg guys I didn't realize there is an RE character named Javier...and he's evil. Omg please forgive my ignorance I just really liked the name!! Ahhhhhh!!!!! I'm so sorry...

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The next morning was met with less pain and more stiffness, especially in Leon’s joints. He went through the morning rituals, including coffee with a splash of bourbon. His thoughts drifted to the past two nights events like the steam out of his shower. The piping hot water did nothing to wash away his mental and physical aches. Leon gradually put on clothes; a simple, white sweater; whose neck hung low; and blue jeans.

 

The more he thought of Redfield, the more Leon wanted to punch something. The idea of working out some of his frustration sounded pretty good. It would help with the stiffness too. He felt less jumpy today and wanted to test the waters of civilization anyway. Leon poked his head out of his apartment and peered down the hallway. Its ominous presence from yesterday no longer existed.

 

That’s a good sign.

 

As he packed a gym bag of workout clothes, Bluetooth headphones, and water bottle; Leon thought of where to go. He had free access to the DSO’s facilities, but the agent didn’t want to deal with the incredulous stares that came with it. Many of the other occupants of the gym were fellow agents and knew what had happened with Metro Squad. Rumors went around. Usually Leon shrugged it off, but dealing with Redfield for the past few days had maxed out his patience.

 

He settled on YMCA that was within walking distance; grabbing his wallet to make sure he had the member badge. Briefly, the agent pondered taking his side arm. It would make him feel more at ease knowing it was available. How protected did he have to feel going to a gym though? Leon left the gun in its holster, settling on the fact it wouldn’t look too good bringing it to a family friendly facility.

 

Leon’s stomach growled and he glanced at the bread on the counter. Memories of last night’s meal floated through his mind. He turned up his nose like a child not wanting to eat his veggies. Instead he grabbed his coat and keys and stepped into the hallway.

 

Leon was pleased the incident in the hall had been because of his nerves as he easily made his way out of the building. The air was cool, but the fur-lined leather coat made it bearable. The agent walked briskly against periodic gusts of wind towards the gym. The sky was heavy with clouds hanging low, threatening to storm. Leon wondered if it would be rain, snow, or a mixture in between. None sounded pleasant.

 

The building for the gym was blocky and grey with modern coloring on the inside. The heat hit as Leon entered and he sighed happily, glad to be rid of the icy feeling. There was a circular desk just inside the entrance with two halls jutting off in either direction behind it. To his left, a small daycare with children playing caught his eye. One of the little girls reminded him of Sherry and a small smile tugged at the edge of his lips. To the right of him was the main workout area with a variety of machinery.

 

Leon mused over the options. Most were standard but the local business was lacking a few items. Leon never bothered with them in his normal gym so he didn’t mind. On the left side of the room were more large empty spaces; some holding what looked like workout classes. Chlorine wafted through the air indicating there was a pool further in that he couldn’t see.

 

He heard someone clear their throat, and Leon turned to see an older woman at the counter staring at him. Her hair was pulled back into a tight, grey bun, and thin, silver glasses rimmed her blue eyes. She had a ‘no nonsense’ look about her.

 

“May I help you?” She asked, tapping her fake nails against the desk.

 

Leon put on his most charming face and approached the lady smiling. “I was wanting to use your facilities today.” He pointed at the workout room.

 

“Are you a member?”

 

Leon deftly pulled out the slim card, let the lady scan it, and smiled again as she buzzed him in. 

 

With that, the agent followed the signs to the locker room. Leon changed into a loose black tank top and long, blue shorts. He donned wireless headphones and entered the workout area. It smelled of rubber and sweat. Leon smiled. Every gym smelled the same. The blonde put on his workout song list and began stretching. The stiffness showed as he tried to limber up.

 

There were a few patrons in the area, but not enough to make him workout near anyone. Leon fell into a jog on the treadmill, eager to run. At first his legs complained, but he pushed through it. The familiar feeling began working through his system. It heated up his body and made his muscles burn in a good way. Leon loved the sensation. It had been one of his strong points throughout most of his career.  After the stiffness worked its way out, the slow jog turned into a brisk run.

 

The well-known movements emptied his mind, as if he was running away from whatever was bugging him. He was able to think clearly about things in this mindset. He tried to process the past few days.

 

Leon knew his pride was hurt. Weakness was not something he showed…ever.

 

Redfield had disregarded Leon’s feelings in Colorado, practically forcing the agent back into action. And the next time Leon had seen Chris? Tucking him into fucking bed. The past three nights had been a nightmare, and he couldn’t even remember the first one. Chris had invaded his home; his safe place; and acted like it was normal. No amount of ice cream could make Leon forgive Redfield.

 

Leon would be happy if he never saw the man again. It would be too much embarrassment and pain to deal with. The thought of Redfield mocking Leon burned anger into his chest. He slowed down to a jog, cooling off the run. Leon glanced around the room and found what he was looking for: a punching bag. Leon walked over and touched the red leather material. He cracked his knuckles and donned his gloves. He slammed a punch smack in the middle of the heavy bag. Leather connected with leather and the chains jangled with the impact. Leon’s upper body strength wasn’t on par with many other agents, but it felt good to hit something. Better than he expected really.

 

The bag was the outlet Leon needed. The item acted as a placeholder, letting Leon’s thoughts shift to whomever he wanted to let his aggression out on. Leon eeled around the bag, careful not to let it swing too violently. His frustration was slowly waning away with every hit. Leon became lost in those thoughts, grunting as he struck the bag over and over.

 

After a strong right hook, the bag swung away from him and abruptly stopped.

 

A taller man poked his head out from behind, all smiles. There was something familiar about the person. He was talking but Leon couldn’t hear him over the combination of his music, heartbeat, and breathing. The bag settled down and the man offered Leon a towel. With all the activity, the agent was coated in a sheen of sweat. It made his bangs stick to his forehead awkwardly. Leon took the towel and removed his ear buds. 

 

“I never thought I would see you again!” The younger man boomed, handing Leon his water bottle. The agent took a drink and wiped his face. Leon must have looked confused because the guy rubbed his arm uneasily. “You…do you remember?”

 

Shit. Leon scanned up and down the man’s figure, trying to glean any memories of him. The voice sounded recognizable. He had black hair; slicked back with sweat; tanned, muscular skin and…green eyes. They were the kind of green seen in the spring; warm and light with a touch of gold that made them sparkle. Leon remembered those eyes from…. somewhere. Jesus, he hated his memory.

 

“Your eyes…” Leon answered quietly. He trailed off, trying to pick at his brain. He was beginning to feel euphoric from working out and it wasn’t helping in the slightest. His recollections brought back the scent of aftershave and alcohol.

 

“At least you remember the best part of me,” the younger man joked. “It is okay. Your night ended poorly. The bar…dance floor?” Leon watched him mimic some swaying motion that resembled dancing.

 

The blonde gasped, recalling the night of his panic attack. There had been a guy…this guy…at the bar with him. The man put a hand on the agent’s shoulder, the sharp sound having hinted at Leon regaining his memories. It was warm. What was your name? “Yeah! I remember the bar…Ja…… sorry…” Leon felt his face heating up at the embarrassment and was thankful he was already flushed from working out.

 

“Javier.” The raven-haired man was laughing at Leon’s meager attempts to remember. “I recall you ran out on me…” his tone became solemn at the reminder.

 

Leon swallowed a lump in his throat. Dammit. He wasn’t expecting to ever see the man again. Javier looked like a kicked puppy and it twisted the blonde’s stomach. “It wasn’t your fault, Javier.”

 

Javier looked a bit relieved but still worried, “Then what happened to you?”

 

It was a heavy question. So much had happened to even understand the context of what triggered Leon’s attack. Javier was a civilian. He was probably living his life to the fullest without a care in the world. Leon couldn’t weigh the man down with worldly concerns. “It’s complicated. I’d rather not go into it.”

 

Javier seemed to understand because he was all smiles again. “Alright. No worries then. Say,” Javier followed Leon as he went to a contraption built for working leg muscles, “how about a second chance?”

 

“What?” Leon was caught off guard. Most people would assume he had too much baggage and move on. They wouldn’t be wrong.

 

“I want to take you on a date. A proper one. It is fate we met today.”

 

Leon shifted the weights on the machine to a higher level. “I’ve never met fate, but they sound confused.”

 

Javier chuckled at the humor. His laugh was earnest and it eased Leon’s mind. “I will not sway that easily. What will it take to convince you?”

 

“You’re persistent.” Leon sat on the machine. He turned to begin a set but Javier sat next to him before he could start. They were so close their shoulders touched. Javier had a good three inches on him and the tanned man was muscular. His shirt strained against solid pecs and his arms definitely saw more action than the rest of his body.

 

“It is my middle name.”

 

Leon laughed out loud. Memories of their bar banter were coming back. It was light and fun and…normal. The blonde bit his bottom lip, not wanting to admit defeat so easily. “You weren’t very smooth at the bar, and you aren’t being very smooth now,” he joked.

 

“Ahh…so you do remember. Do me a favor and forget that part?” A soft shade of red washed over Javier’s cheeks.

 

Damn he’s cute. “Not in a million years.”

 

“Gah!” Javier stood up and threw his arms in the air, “There must be something I can do. We are in a gym, after all. Want me to deadlift or something?” The younger man began spouting out various feats to perform. He used different gestures to describe things. “Look, I can even do the thing,” he said as he made his pecs alternate in bouncing. 

 

Leon had been smiling and laughing so much at Javier’s antics that his face hurt. He hadn’t felt this elated in some time. Nothing sounded particularly entertaining, but the raven-haired man wanted to prove himself worthy. Leon had an idea. “Okay. Okay. How about we spar?”

 

Javier perked up as he smiled his perfect smile and rubbed his hands together. “Spar? Like wrestle? Whoever goes down first wins?” There was a mischievous look in his eyes.

 

Leon nodded, “Yeah.”

 

“If I win, you must come on a date with me!” Javier was stretching, obviously excited. “And if you win?”

 

Leon smirked, “I haven’t decided yet what I want if I win.”

 

Javier glanced at the clock on the wall, “Shit…out of time.”

 

“Huh?” Leon glanced around. Nobody was leaving, but quite a few people were pouring into one of the classrooms to his left.

 

“I teach a Zumba class and my last one starts soon. How long will you be here?” Javier looked worried, like Leon would run away again.

 

The agent pondered. At this point he was playing hard to get because he enjoyed the teasing. He also wanted to see just how eager Javier was to win this sparring match. “How long is Zumba class?” he smiled.

 

Javier practically jumped up and down at the implication in Leon’s voice. “One hour! Will you wait?”

 

“I still have another hour of my routine, so yeah.” Leon stood and reached out his hand. Javier shook on it and Leon pulled him in close, noses almost touching. “And I’d like to see what you look like underneath me.” There was insinuation in his voice, and Leon watched Javier’s Adams apple bob as he swallowed hard.

 

“Same,” Javier growled, caressing his thumb over the blonde’s skin. The movement prickled the hairs on Leon’s neck. “Meet me in the classroom in one hour then?” He motioned to the packed room.

 

“It’s a date.” With that, Javier ran towards his class. The blonde couldn’t help but sneak a look at the younger man’s ass. Even through the red shorts Leon could tell it was plump and toned. 

 

I’m doomed.

 

The agent put his headphones back in and sat on the prepped machinery. The weights weren’t heavy, but they would help with shaping. His thoughts were lighter for the next hour. As he floated through specific workout machines, his mind drifted to Javier; tight muscles, bright smile, and emerald eyes.

 

A date was beginning to sound pretty good. It would be a nice distraction from the past few days; from his embarrassments and anxieties. Leon had wanted that diversion one night ago, before everything went to hell. He tended to ruin things. Part of it was Leon feeling guilty for running out on such a sweet person. Another part of him knew where this was headed and didn’t mind.

 

By the end of the hour, Leon was surprised with himself. He was actually looking forward to seeing somebody. He swigged some water down, feeling completely exerted. Any trace of stiffness from his limbs were gone.

 

Javier was beaming as he hugged and shook hands with various people in his class. They were mostly women of different ages. Leon draped his towel around his neck and waited for the crowd to thin out. He felt eyes on him from the patrons and was sure somebody had whispered something about his behind. Leon smiled vainly at the attention. Simple things like this never happened at DSO.

 

Once there were only a couple of women left in the room, Leon entered. He cleared his throat to get the younger man’s attention. Javier and the two members turned at the sound.

 

Javier glowed with sweat and happiness. “Leon! Are you ready for this?” Javier waved his hands down his figure with open palms.

 

Leon shook his head at the comical gesture, placing his things on the floor. The room was large and the entire ground was covered in rubber mat material. “No one could be ready for that,” Leon pointed up and down the tanned body. The women giggled, eyes darting from Leon to Javier. They waved their goodbyes, leaving the two men to themselves.

 

“Have you decided what you will get if you win?” Javier chuckled, crossing his arms.

 

If I win? Didn’t you just teach a workout class?” Leon joked. He hadn’t thought about it at all really. The blonde had already decided a date was what he wanted. He wasn’t about to lose on purpose though.

 

Javier scoffed, “I teach three classes a day. You do not know what you are getting into.” He winked.

 

If it weren’t for Leon’s pride, he would have forfeited right there. Instead he smirked, knowing he had the element of surprise on the younger man. “Your overconfidence is your weakness,” Leon quoted.

 

Javier roared with laughter and answered in a gargled voice, “Your faith in your friends is yours! Haha! I love those movies!”

 

Leon laughed at the internal joke and hunkered into a lower stance, “Let’s go, big guy,” he smirked.

 

“I still do not know what you want,” Javier copied the movement, “If you win.”

 

“When I win,” Leon retorted, still not answering the question. “Rules?” They began circling each other, keeping the same distance between them.

 

“You win when your opponent taps out or is on their back for three seconds?” Javier suggested, bouncing on his toes.

 

Leon blew his bangs out of his face and smirked. “If that’s how long you last, then why am I bothering?”

 

Javier’s face turned deep red at the innuendo. “I-I meant time to be pinned.” The younger man’s stance faltered slightly and his position became unbalanced.

 

“Oh, I know,” Leon purred before dashing suddenly, sweeping Javier’s legs with one of his own. The blow connected at the ankles, and Javier gasped as he was knocked down onto his butt. Before his opponent could recuperate, Leon laced his arms around the neck and under the arm. The grip dragged Javier onto his back in a headlock.

 

Before Leon could get a good hold, Javier broke the hold and flipped the agent; pinning his head and chest with his legs. The blonde kicked up twice, breaking the embrace and flipping onto his feet. Leon quickly turned in time to dodge a sweep at his own legs.

 

The agent grabbed Javier’s wrists and twisted them over his head. They became pinned against the tanned chest as Leon used weight to push Javier onto his back once more. The raven-haired man attempted to break the clutch using the same momentum Leon had. The agent was faster though; using his legs to pin Javier’s.

 

“1….2……3!” Leon grunted.  

 

“Dammit!” Javier roared in frustration against the hold.

 

“I win,” Leon smirked, letting the younger man free from his grip. Javier slammed his fists against the rubber.

 

“What…..the fuck…..was that!?” Javier exclaimed, breathing heavily. He looked up at Leon who was standing above him, hardly breaking a sweat.

 

Leon chuckled. He held out a hand and helped Javier up from the ground. “That... was a proper ass-kicking.” Leon pretended to wipe dust off of Javier’s shoulders as he said it.

 

“I lost completely…” There was disappointment in the man’s voice. “What do you want then?”

Leon put on an act of thinking long and hard about what he wanted. The blonde had already decided the date was fine. He bit his lip in fake contemplation. Finally, Leon looked into Javier’s eyes. Their green hue was darker and wet, like moss. The gold flakes weren’t sparkling. Leon didn’t like that. He sighed.

 

“Steak.”

 

“What?” Javier looked at him in complete bewilderment.

 

Leon chuckled. “I want to eat steak…with you…on a date.”

 

Javier whooped so loudly the sound echoed in the empty room. He hugged Leon tightly, and the agent didn’t mind one bit. “You sneak!” he exclaimed, “You wanted to go all along! That is why you did not tell me your side of the bet! Right?”

 

Leon was fully smiling now. He pulled out of the warm embrace. “What can I say? I’m a tease.”

 

Javier cupped the blonde’s face, rubbing a thumb into his cheek. It felt soft and warm. “You are most beautiful when you smile, Leon.”

 

The blonde knew a blush had formed on his cheeks. He looked down, embarrassed a bit from the compliment. Reluctantly, he moved away from the touch to gather his things. Javier followed him. “So what time did you have in mind for this date?”

 

“Tonight, of course. Why wait any longer?” Javier shrugged. They both headed towards the locker room.

 

“Tonight is fine. Have a place in mind?” Leon grabbed his bag out of the metal compartment and began pulling out his neatly folded clothes.

 

“Oh yeah. Best steak in town,” Javier followed suit with his own belongings.

 

“And no dance floors…” Leon joked, making light of the serious situation that had occurred just two nights before.

 

“Definitely,” Javier winked, “I do not want you running from me again.” The pang of guilt that had plagued Leon’s chest before was gone now. It was clear Javier understood and wasn’t going to hold anything against him.

 

Once ready, they both headed towards the main entrance. Leon glanced at what Javier was wearing. His coat was a grey wool that buttoned up in the front, complementing the tight, black jeans. A dab of a red shirt peaked through the coat. Javier began chatting with the desk clerk. It was the woman from earlier. The view in the large front windows distracted Leon from the conversation. His heart sank. It was raining, hard. Parts of the precipitation were forming into snow.

 

Shit.

 

Leon looked out the window again and sighed, “Guess I’m walking in the rain.”

 

Javier huffed and Leon finally looked at the taller man. His face was a mixture of confusion and concern. “You walked here?” He said gently. Leon felt a hand press against his lower back and he let Javier guide him to one of the lobby benches.

 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting….this,” he gestured vaguely to the brewing storm outside. They sat down together. “Still want to hash out plans for tonight?” The weather in D.C. could turn ugly very quickly and the thought of canceling plans dampened Leon’s mood.

 

“No storm in the world is going to keep me from seeing you tonight,” Javier lifted his hand to touch Leon’s cheek again but stopped half way. He glanced over his shoulder to the woman at the desk and let his hand fall. Javier’s face lit up abruptly. “I know! I will take you home and we can decide on the way there.”

 

Leon laughed in disbelief. “You’re offering me a ride?”

 

“Why not? It is obvious you live close by if you walked, and that is not stopping anytime soon.” Javier slipped his hand into Leon’s and pulled him off the bench; towards the door.

 

“W-wait,” Leon stammered.

 

“No, no. I insist. And that way I know where to pick you up.” Javier’s sudden bout of confidence washed over Leon like warm sunlight. It was all so endearing that Leon couldn’t help but smile and go along with it. The cold, wet conditions quickly seeped through Leon’s jacket as they rushed towards a slim, silver car.

 

Both men hurriedly made their way into the protection of the front seats. The hard rain pattered against the roof and the dark-tinted windows made everything seem drearier. Javier started the engine and turned up the heat to full blast. “Thank you,” Leon whispered. He would have been screwed if he had to walk in that weather. The agent glanced around the interior. It was all black leather and very clean.

 

“Do not thank me,” Javier chuckled. Instantly, Javier’s hand was on Leon’s face, pulling it towards the middle of the car. The urgency and warmth sent a shiver down Leon’s spine and his breath caught in his throat. For that split second, the agent became nervous before he felt soft lips on his.

 

Cocky bastard.

 

Leon turned his head and deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue against Javier’s lips. The mouth opened and Leon entered eagerly, tasting the mint he had smelt before. As he explored, Javier intertwined his fingers into Leon’s hair, touching and rubbing the supple strands. The kiss broke when they were both breathless. Javier smiled, resting his hand back onto Leon’s chin. “I had ulterior motives after all.” The hoarseness in the taller man’s voice made a well-known warmth pool in Leon’s stomach.

 

“Consider that a preview, then,” Leon smirked.

 

Javier rubbed his thumb over the blonde’s bottom lip and licked his own. “Tonight cannot come fast enough.”

 

Leon chuckled and leaned back into the seat. The taller man pulled out of the parking spot slowly, flipping on his wipers so he could see. Javier’s hand never left Leon’s body as they drove. Gentle caresses worked their way down his neck and shoulder, his arm, and across his thigh until the hand settled on the blonde’s knee. Leon pointed Javier in the right direction until they were outside his building. It took less than half the time walking had. I really need to get an all weather vehicle, he mused, thinking about his motorcycle; currently covered in a parking spot of the garage.

 

Javier put the car in park and leaned over Leon again, enveloping their lips in another kiss. The agent touched the tan skin, playing with the taller man’s ear. Javier broke the kiss short and rested his forehead on Leon’s. “Oh how I want to just follow you inside,” Javier breathed.

They both chuckled and, for a moment, Leon considered it. He knew though, that waiting would make everything they did later so much more passionate. “I really want that steak…” Leon diverted.

 

Javier settled back into his seat, sighing dramatically. “You did win, my sweet. I will pick you up at 7:30 here?” The raven-haired man was smiling again; the gold flakes twinkling in delight.

 

“Think about me ‘til then?” Leon teased.

 

“Always.”

 

With that exchange, Leon made his way out of the car and into the building. Once inside, he turned and waved, watching the vehicle pull away. For the first time in a long while, Leon was looking forward to something.

 

Notes:

Thanks again for the kudos, bookmarks, and comments. I do read all of them and It warms my soul. :3

Side note: IDK if all YMCA's have a punching bag but the one in my town does. It might just be weird. (And yes the title is a reference to the song, although subtle). ;)

Side side note: Leon trying to drown out his problems/suffering with fleeting relationships and sex is in the "bad coping mechanisms" bag. It was his first intention with Javier and it hasn't changed. It won't until he figures it out or someone *cough-Chris-cough* helps him figure it out. Also, if you think Javier is a parallel for a certain BSAA Captain...you aren't wrong. I'm not sneaky. Leon has a type.

Chapter 8: A Pause

Summary:

Leon takes a pause to enjoy civilian life.

Notes:

Sorry for the slight delay in uploading. I have no excuses. >_< This chapter is a bit of filler fluff with Leon and the OC from previous chapters. If OC stuff isn't your thing, you aren't missing big context in this chapter and can pick up right at chapter 9. Still, they are dorky AF. Nothing obscene so please enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Leon hopped out of the shower, roughly drying his hair. He stood in front of the closet, agonizing over what to wear. For the past few weeks…and months, it hadn’t mattered. But tonight he was going to make it matter. Javier had dropped him off and was going to be back soon. The kisses they shared still clung to Leon’s lips, making him feel light. He also wasn’t sure how proper the place they were going to was. Leon settled on a dark blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and some black slacks. He never bothered with a tie. The shirt was tight, showing off his form when he twisted the right way. Leon pulled out his tan dress coat. It was a similar style to the one Javier had been wearing earlier. If he had done well, and the restaurant was nice, Leon wouldn’t want to show up in his token leather.

 

The squeaky clean apartment brought bitter memories to the forefront of his mind. Javier had been a good distraction up until Leon had returned home with the reminder that Redfield had been here. Leon shook the memories from his head, not wanting to spoil his uplifted mood. He deserved to enjoy just one night, right? Although the place is clean. He wasn’t sure where the night would lead, but it was best to plan ahead; and the blonde was optimistic. Leon considered having Javier here. He didn’t like to spend nights at other places. The agent knew where things were here and had equipment to defend himself if needed.

 

Leon chewed his lip.

 

If they didn’t end up here, he would want to bring his gun. Javier feeling around and finding the concealed weapon on Leon’s person when it was just supposed to be a date would definitely come off the wrong way. To be honest, the agent didn’t want to have to explain that. Leon decided that if the night went his way and he got what he wanted, he would invite Javier back to his place. At least if Javier tries anything, Leon would be prepared.

 

The blonde felt a headache twinge his brain. He drowned it quickly with some whiskey and looked outside. The weather had become more snow, but it was light coming down. It made everything quieter, like the world was on pause. He hoped the weather would hold out long enough for the date. Leon spent the last hour of his wait checking the various weapons he had stashed around the condo. Two in the bedroom, one in an island drawer, one at the bar, and one at the entrance table. There was also a knife behind the toilet. One could never be too careful.

 

He brushed his teeth, put on some cologne, and ran his fingers through his hair. The strands bounced back rebelliously as he tossed them about. He donned his coat, pulling it into place on his chest and headed out. Leon couldn’t help but feel his heart lift at the sight of the silver car parked out front. He let a smile spread across his lips.

 

The windows were impossible to see through so he tapped the glass. It rolled down and Javier leaned into his view, beaming a perfect, white smile. “Well get in! It is cold!” He giggled, obviously excited as well. Leon did as he was commanded, easily slipping into the warm vehicle. As soon as the door was closed, Javier was leaning into Leon. The blonde met him halfway and locked their lips into a chaste kiss. Leon pulled back, settling into the seat. The scent of clean linen and citrus hits Leon’s nose. Javier’s cologne.

 

“Miss me?” Leon teased.

 

Javier pulled onto the street, taking it slow because of the weather. “Of course. Are you hungry for steak?” Humor laced in his words.

 

“Hmm…” Leon hummed. Javier made this too easy. The blonde intertwined their hands together, “That…among other things.”

 

The blush Leon had grown accustomed to seeing crept up Javier’s cheeks as he laughed timidly. The agent felt Javier’s grip tighten.

 

“So,” Leon rubbed circles into the tanned skin with his thumb, keenly aware of Javier shifting his legs, “Where’s dinner?”

 

“Not far,” Javier said, distracted with driving. “I was worried about the weather, so I kept it close.”

 

Leon had to wonder where Javier lived. Was it nearby? He was sure it wasn’t his complex. Javier probably couldn’t afford it on wages he made at the YMCA. “You live around here too?”

 

“Yeah,” Javier was pulling up to a valet, “not far from work. So this is convenient.”

 

Leon stepped out of the car and looked at his surroundings. The area was a nicer part of town with decorative street lights and trees geometrically set into the sidewalk. The restaurant had their own valet, a red awning, and plain glass doors. The building didn’t stand out at all.

 

After handing the valet the keys and a tip, Javier led Leon into the building. The inside was dimly lit with romantic candles at each table. Savory aromas drifted through the air, and there were sounds of hushed conversation. They were sat quickly in a small corner booth with plush cushions. It allowed them to sit next to each other. Leon sat to the right of his date. The table was lined with various forms of cutlery, glasses of water, and a candle centerpiece on top of a thick, white tablecloth. The menus were small books backlit so they were easier to read.

 

“Nicely done,” the blonde whispered, complimenting the locale.  Leon glanced at his date as they took their coats off. His hair was spiked like the first time they had met, and he wore a silky, white dress shirt and slacks. He cleans up well, too.

 

“I promised the best steak in town,” Javier hummed, the recognizable glint of gold in his eyes.

 

They were greeted by an upbeat waitress with too much makeup on. Leon let Javier order their drinks; old fashioned cocktails. After she skipped away, the agent felt a hand on his thigh. He turned and Javier was gazing at him with a ravenous look. “You are exquisite tonight.”

 

Heat flushed Leon’s cheeks as he smiled at the compliment, “It’s because you’re sitting on my good side,” he joked.

 

The raven-haired man shook his head, “Your best side is your ass.” Javier had spoken in Spanish, trying to hide his lewd comment. Leon was well aware of what Javier had said though. The agent had picked up Spanish easily from dealing with Los Illuminados over the years.

 

The waitress came back with their beverages, but Leon hardly paid her any attention. He was fully focused on deep green eyes flickering in the candlelight. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get to see it tonight,” Leon returned in Spanish. He watched the surprise spread across Javier’s face.

 

“Y-you speak Spanish!? And so fluently, too!?” Javier gasped, visibly taken aback and embarrassed. Each time the younger man got flustered, Leon couldn’t help but smile.

 

The agent sipped his beverage, purposely leaving a silence to think of a good excuse. The drink was well made. “Spanish is pretty common,” Leon returned in English.

 

“I suppose so,” Javier calmed down at the realization, “but I…I guess I should not have assumed…”

 

“What? That I’m just a pretty face?” Leon laughed back, making light of the situation. He finally glanced at the menu.

 

“The more I learn about you, the more attractive you become,” Javier sighed. They began discussing what to order. Almost everything on the menu looked enticing. Javier was reading the appetizers out loud, “What about the escargot?”

 

“More like escar-no,” Leon opposed. He heard Javier chuckle at the lame joke. “Slimy stuff isn’t my thing.” It reminded him too much of the horrors he had fought.

 

“Alright, alright,” Javier settled.

 

“What about the bacon?” Leon felt eyes on him again, and he glanced up from the menu. Javier’s mouth was agape in an appalling manner.

 

“I take you to one of the best steakhouses in the city, and you want to order the bacon?”

 

Leon tilted his head, confused, “It’s the cheapest appetizer on the menu, and who doesn’t like bacon?”

 

“I would rather not. There are other good choices,” Javier huffed, annoyed at even having to explain his reasoning.

 

Leon squinted at him and smirked. He enjoyed tormenting the younger man. “Crab cakes?” Leon suggested, pointing back to the booklet.

 

“Finally something we agree on,” Javier sighed.

 

“Glad we don’t have to share entrees then,” Leon hummed. They finished examining the various choices and by the time the waitress came back, the couple had decided what to order. Another round of drinks had made their way to the table at some point.

 

Leon stretched his arm around the back of the bench and stirred his drink. “How did you end up at the Y?” It wasn’t that Leon needed to know, but small talk was important. It made him feel less guilty about activities he wanted to partake in later. He could handle one night stands better if he knew a bit about the person first.

 

Javier leaned his head back, allowing the tips of Leon’s fingers to play with his hair. “I have always wanted to be a personal trainer,” he started, caressing Leon’s thigh again, “and the YMCA stands for something I care about a lot.”

 

Leon listened as intently as he could. The drinks were beginning to wane his attention span. “What’s that?” the agent whispered.

 

“Community.” Javier smiled warmly, and it lit up his eyes. “Where I am from, it is everything. I get that feeling at the gym…with my classes.” At that, their appetizer arrived. Leon felt his stomach rumble at the sight of the fried, golden morsels. The pair broke contact to dig in; the food savory and warm.

 

Another pair of beverages had appeared and Leon took a mental note to slow down. He was enjoying himself for the first time in a while, and he wanted to remember the night. His frustrations and anger seemed to melt away with each passing moment he spent with Javier. Leon decided to focus on the present, not wanting to ruin the mood with thoughts of his work or past. The waitress interrupted their conversation with their meals, Leon thankful Javier did not get the chance to ask about his job. The food was divine and the blonde ate it slowly, cherishing each bite. He would have to come back here again. He finished his meal, the fullness of his stomach weighing down his senses a bit.

 

A dessert menu quietly appeared, piquing the blonde’s interest. Leon looked over its contents thoughtfully, “Care to share something?” Javier leaned in close, brushing up against the agent’s smaller frame, and looked over Leon’s shoulder at the menu. The blonde felt an arm loosely around his shoulders.

 

Your choice, my sweet,” Javier whispered into the blonde’s ear. He heard the younger man inhale deeply, as if breathing in Leon’s scent. The agent sensed hot breath on his neck. That warmth went straight to the pool in his stomach, making his mind fuzzy.

 

Before Leon could answer with a witty comment, Javier rubbed his inner thigh, and nuzzled just under the blonde’s ear. The younger man’s voice was barely a whisper as he let his lips caress Leon’s skin, “but I want you to be my dessert tonight.”

 

Leon swallowed back a gasp, letting out a shaky breath instead. Everything sounded more sensual when Javier said it in Spanish. His date moved away suddenly as the waitress came to check on them.

 

“See anything you like?” She asked, chipper as ever.

 

The warmth had spread lower, making Leon’s jeans fit him uncomfortably. Javier had left his charm for the end, and it was working. “I do,” Leon smiled, taking a quick glance at Javier, “checks, please.”

 

“Just one check,” Javier interjected. The waitress cleared their table and headed off. Leon looked at his date. Javier winked.

 

“Quite the gentleman,” Leon teased. The younger man began biting his thumb, as if deep in thought. Leon became concerned. Had he not read the situation clearly? “Javier?”

 

His date instantly smiled and pulled Leon in for a sideways hug, “Finally! You say it!” he exclaimed, laughing.

 

The waitress returned with the check and bid them good night. Leon stared, perplexed at what had just happened. “What?”

 

Javier was still laughing, leaving a few bills in the small book. He tapped the black leather on the table and pointed at the agent, “You have not said my name all night. I wanted to see if I could make you, and I did!”

 

Leon chuckled as he gathered his belongings. “I wasn’t aware it was that important.”

 

“It is not,” Javier joked, “but I thought it would be fun to tease you for once.” The two made their way to the door, requesting their car be pulled up. Leon looked outside. The snow had begun accumulating on the road, leaving a trail where cars had driven in it. The valet brought the car around and brushed off the snow.  

 

Leon was happy he wasn’t walking home when the cold, east coast air slapped his face. They hurried into the warm car. The drive back to Leon’s condo was short and quiet. The streets were fairly empty. Most people did not enjoy driving in the snow. It had been a nice evening, all things considered. Leon believed he hadn’t been this relaxed in a while. Javier was handsome and had treated him well. They eventually pulled into an invisible parking spot outside the tall building. Javier sighed and closed his eyes. “This was nice, as far as second chances go.”

 

Leon smiled, “Glad I beat you.”

 

Javier chuckled and gazed at the blonde with playful eyes. “Not as much as me. But the evening must come to an end….”

 

It was a question. Leon knew this path because he had walked it many times; laughs and smiles, a nice date, flirtation and gentle touches. All of it was because they both wanted something out of this deal. Leon wanted a distraction, plain and simple. Something to take his mind off the horrors that plagued his daily thoughts; a sweet memory in the darkness. Leon knew what Javier wanted as well. Maybe it was because of his looks or charm, but he wanted Leon in the most mature way a person could want anything.

 

“Does it have to?” Leon whispered, intertwining their fingers together and leaning towards his date. He searched for any trace of uncertainty. The blonde was met with an intense stare, filled with desire and hunger.

 

“I do not want it to, if that is what you want,” Javier breathed. He pressed his forehead to Leon’s and eased his free hand into the blonde hair.

 

Leon took the tanned chin into his free hand and stroked his thumb over Javier’s bottom lip, thinking about a comment made just hours before, “Follow me inside this time.” Leon’s stomach knotted up as he nervously awaited an answer.

 

“Gladly.”

Notes:

Thanks for the continued support. You guys are super awesome people and it makes me so humble people enjoy this fic. :D My OC days are done, I swear. :P

Side Note: I am not using geographical context at all and have no idea what Washington D.C. looks like for real. I did, however, look up fancy restaurant menus cuz why not? And I have a head-cannon Leon speaks a couple foreign languages enough to get by.

Chapter 9: Reflection

Summary:

Leon looks back on the events from the last few days.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Leon blinked, trying to focus in the new environment. His head was swimming with the familiar haze of liquor. Lights pulsated and flashed quickly with the beat and sounds of heavy bass music assaulting his ears. He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard his name. He looked at Javier.

 

His smile was gone. Concern riddled the young man’s face. He didn’t look right. 

 

Leon was suddenly bumped into from behind. He watched as a young woman fell onto the dance floor. There was a flash of something sinister.

 

Blood. 

 

Leon’s breath quickened. He whipped around, looking through the crowd. They were no longer drunken college kids. All Leon saw was torn flesh and blood, the smell of rot and death surrounded him. He looked for Javier, but he was gone. 

 

Under the sound of the music, Leon heard growling. The woman on the ground grabbed his leg, her face melted and pale. Blood covered her torso and she didn’t have legs. Ice flowed through Leon’s veins.

 

Infected.

 

Leon kicked the grip away and pushed through the undead. He tumbled out of the crowd. Panic gripped at his chest and breathing became more difficult. He reached for his sidearm. It wasn’t there, and Leon cursed himself for not being more prepared. Undead plagued the entire bar. One by one, they slowly turned to look at him with hungry, soulless eyes.

 

Leon gripped his chest, trying his best to slow his breathing. The agent searched for the exit. As soon as it was spotted, he bolted towards it. Some of the undead lunged at him in an attempt to impede his escape. He nimbly dodged them, rushing towards the door. One zombie in particular was right on his heels. Leon burst through the door and onto the street. Cold sapped his breath instantly, making his chest burn more. Growls came from behind him. Some had gotten out.

 

Leon’s brain scrambled for a solution. He was weaponless, defenseless. A zombie grabbed his wrist tightly. The agent twisted free from the grip and kicked the rotting face. There were weapons at his condo. It wasn’t far. 

 

He ran. 

 

The cold November wind blasted his face, making every gasp of air burn his chest. It was the coldest Leon had ever felt. It didn’t take long for the wintry air to pierce through his clothing, but he couldn’t stop. The sound of feet slamming against the concrete synched with his heartbeat as he ran faster and faster.

 

Just a bit farther. 

 

Leon came up on his building, and he heard an undead close behind him. The agent erupted through the apartment complex entrance, but there were more here too. The undead lunged towards the agent as he tried to get to the stairs. One got ahold of him from behind. Leon felt teeth scrape against his neck as he elbowed the mess of flesh off his shoulders, terror gripping his mind. The agent scrambled up the stairs, three at a time. Zombie snarls echoed up the staircase.

 

His lungs felt like they were starving as his legs grew heavier with each step. Finally, he reached his floor and darted down the hallway. Oxygen was all but lost to him and dark spots floated on the edge of his vision. He fumbled with the key, unable to open the locked door. Leon heard the distinct ‘ding’ of the elevator and looked down the hallway. He watched in horror as seemingly countless bodies tumbled out from the metal frame. 

 

More undead were rushing towards him, led by the one he kicked earlier.  It’s face was smashed in and decaying skin held its arm by a thread; dangling from the socket. Leon shoved his shoulder into the door, desperate to escape the hell that was encroaching on him. It finally gave and he collapsed into a dark apartment. A strong arm grabbed at his ankle and it took all his strength to yank away. Then there were more hands, grabbing him, holding him down. He gripped his chest so tight, the fabric threatened to rip. His breaths were coming out short and shallow and fast. Too fast. Darkness was encroaching his vision further.

 

Leon looked for a way out and saw someone rushing to his aide, trying desperately to pull him out of the clutches of death. 

 

Chris.

The agent had no air left to call out his name, and his body couldn’t fight anymore. The agent felt hands on his shoulders, grabbing and wanting, and Redfield’s grip slowly slipped. He sobbed between gasps, feeling tears stain his cheeks as he felt pain from his own flesh being ripped apart. Dead hands pulled at his sweater as darkness filled his mind as Chris’s grip was lost to him. He was cold. So very cold. Leon weakly batted at the grasp, using the last of his air to scream. 

 

Everything went blank.

 

Leon twisted against sheets frantically, trying his hardest to break away from the grips holding him. His muscles weren’t obeying him. They felt limp and heavy. “No!” Leon wept. 

 

“Leon, hey! Leon!” The rotting flesh he had been combating was no longer a zombie. Leon gulped air into his heaving chest as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The person’s grip wasn’t tight, but gentle; not cold but warm. The hands were caressing him, not trying to rip his skin apart. 

 

The warmth was familiar. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized it.

 

“Chris?” Leon choked between gasps for air. The nightmare faded slowly from his mind, leaving Leon shaking with adrenaline. The blonde gripped the linen tightly, trying to calm his breathing. The warm touches rubbed his shoulders, face, and hair. Leon was covered in a sheen of sweat. 

 

It had felt so real. 

 

The figure moved away and flipped on a lamp. The light brought with it a comforting atmosphere. Leon covered his eyes with his arm, straining to bring himself down from the adrenaline rush. 

 

“Leon, you are okay. I am here,” the voice kept repeating. It sounded quiet and distorted under the beating of his heart in his ears. Eventually, he felt somebody lift his arm away from his face. Javier was looking at him with gentle, calm eyes.  “Hey,” he whispered. 

 

Leon’s breathing had calmed down slightly. He sat up, resting his back against the headboard. He went through a mental checklist; an attempt to ground him in reality. He was in his own bed. It was dark out…so still nighttime. The holster and gun sat at the door. Okay.

 

He let out a shaky breath and swallowed. Just a nightmare. He repeated the thought over and over in his head, like a mantra, while Javier stroked his arm tenderly. Leon was on edge, wanting to bolt around and check every nook and cranny of the apartment. He clenched his jaw to keep himself from doing so. 

 

He looked at Javier again. The emerald eyes were heavy with worry. It was then Leon realized they were both naked. The night had started off so well. The sex had been amazing. He had to go and have a stupid nightmare.  Why do I have to fuck things up all the time?     

 

“Sorry,” the blonde’s voice was hoarse as he took Javier’s hand into his. The raven-haired man had gotten what he wanted out of their deal. He didn’t need to tolerate Leon’s baggage. It was impossible to imagine how Javier felt. 

 

The younger man pulled Leon into a hug against his chest and soothingly rocked them. The caring act was unexpected. Leon didn’t have the energy to fight it. The adrenaline ebbed away and was replaced with a weight that made Leon never want to move again. 

 

“Bad dream?” Javier breathed. His speech rumbled his chest, comforting Leon further.

The agent stared at their entangle hands. His whole life had been a bad dream. This night just became part of it. “Yeah.” 

 

The nightmare had been so vivid, so fresh. “It seemed intense,” Javier sighed, “you have them often?”

 

“Haven’t had one in a while,” he murmured, mostly to himself. The perks of consuming so much alcohol had made his nights soundless and undisturbed. 

 

“What can I do for you?” 

 

The question sent Leon’s mind spiraling. ‘What can I do for you?’ There was no reason for Javier to have asked that. He didn’t need to do anything. Hell, Leon was surprised he hadn’t left yet. The blonde sighed, dismissing the confusing question with sly remarks, “Rewind the night and order me more drinks?” 

 

“I cannot do that. Maybe some other distraction?” Javier was being his persistent self, kissing his shoulder. They were affectionate pecks against Leon’s clammy skin. The actions made Leon think distraction to Javier meant sex. 

 

The blonde couldn’t do it. Leon closed his eyes. His body was tired, and he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking. “If round two is your idea of a distraction, I’ll have to disappoint you.” 

 

Laughter from Javier’s chest vibrated the blonde, “That is not what I had in mind at all. I am still spent from earlier.” 

 

Leon turned to look at the taller man. There were no traces of deception or sarcasm on his face. “Then what was?” 

 

Javier placed a gentle kiss on Leon’s cheek. “Conversation? Maybe…talk about the dream?” Leon’s distaste must have clearly showed on his face because Javier chuckled again. “Or not…perhaps……who is Chris?” 

 

The inquiry hit Leon like a punch to the gut from a bioweapon. He felt sweat against his skin again. He thought back to waking up from the nightmare. He’d said Chris’s name. Why had he done that? There were too many questions floating through Leon’s mind to sift through and sort out right now. He told Javier a version of the truth, “Someone I know.” 

 

“A co-worker?” Javier was attempting to make small conversation. With any other topic, it might have worked, but Leon tensed every time the younger man asked about the BSAA captain. What was making his muscles tense up so much?

 

Leon swallowed. He didn’t understand what Javier’s motivation was, and he wanted the man to cut it out. He couldn’t get his thoughts straight. “I-I don’t want to talk about it.” 

 

Javier sighed, “Sorry…I just do not know how to comfort you…” Leon reached for the grey throw blanket but felt so heavy he stopped half-way. The younger man shifted a little, grabbed the supple fabric, and covered them both in it. 

 

They shifted, Javier resting against the headboard with Leon in his lap. The blonde rested his head on a tanned shoulder, sighing. “This is fine.” The warm skin soaked into the blonde. Slowly, he felt his muscles twitch into relaxation. 

 

“Just rest, alright?” Javier whispered as he settled down. 

 

He listened to Javier’s breathing deepen and slow down. Leon’s thought train wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He knew there was no going back to sleep after a nightmare like that. Eventually, the nagging sensation to search the entire place won out.  Leon shifted and Javier’s embrace became tighter before relaxing again. “Leon?” the younger man murmured sleepily. 

 

“Sorry. Can’t sleep,” Leon returned, slipping out of Javier’s grip. He covered the tanned body with the covers. Leon slipped on shorts and wrapped his blanket around himself. 

 

Leon checked the bathroom and laundry room first for any signs of forced entry or sinister beings. He also checked the bedroom, deftly examining his guns. Everything seemed in order.  

 

Leon turned off the lamp and exited his bedroom sneakily, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. The wind howled against his windows outside. Coffee was sounding pretty good so the agent made himself a cup. While the machine did its task, Leon checked the door for signs of forced entry; guns still in their proper places. He grabbed his coffee, opened the blinds to his patio, and stared out into the city. The snow had stopped falling. A thin blanket of white covered everything it could, glistening in the moonlight. The far edges of the sky were brushed with a dark blue against the black of night. Soon, those colors would become lighter and get replaced by a pink or orange hue. 

 

Leon’s brain was slowing down now that he had checked the apartment. The agent decided to recollect and sift through his thoughts. It reminded him of trying to put together a puzzle from that damned castle in Spain. The night had been amazing. They had both gotten what they wanted. Yet afterwards, he had still been kind, helping Leon clean their mess off the blonde’s torso. At first, the agent had thought Javier was just being courteous. Sometimes other men had done the same. 

 

But then Javier hadn’t run out the door when Leon had awoken crying and screaming, effectively ruining the perfect night they had been having. 

 

Leon figured it was because Javier could get more sex out of the situation if he comforted Leon. It wasn’t though. The blonde had asked. 

 

‘That is not what I had in mind at all.’

 

Javier had wanted to console Leon…and that was it. Nothing else. Was it that simple? 

 

‘I just do not know how to comfort you.’

 

Javier didn’t ask for anything in return. 

 

‘Just rest, alright?’

 

Could it be that his date wanted to be nice….just to be nice? Javier’s only goal was for Leon to feel better? It was the only explanation for everything. 

 

Leon’s breath caught in his throat. Javier had used the same words as Chris. Both men had been consoling him when they said it. Was it just a coincidence? But I said his name. Not just that; it had been Chris who was trying to help him escape the nightmare. Leon thought back to how he felt when he had awoken; panicked and borderline terrified. Then he had sensed a gentle warmth surrounding him. Javier. 

 

The agent switched gears and focused on how he had felt when he had the panic attack: about the same feelings. Then a similar warmth had enveloped him and calmed him down. The sensation tonight felt substituted; as if the all-star on a team was out so a rookie had to play in their stead. 

 

Chris. 

 

The situations were too similar for it to be a coincidence. What Redfield had done for him during his attack had left an impact somewhere deep in his mind. But it didn’t make sense for Redfield to do something like that without a motivation. Javier was genuinely a nice guy. Chris always had an agenda. 

 

What does Chris want then? Leon knew Chris didn’t want sex; the man was as straight as an arrow. Was it entirely possible that he didn’t want anything, like Javier? No. There’s a clue somewhere. 

 

The blonde downed the rest of his coffee, looking out to the horizon. The world had chosen pink this morning. He snuck back into his bedroom and grabbed his cellphone. Javier was still resting peacefully. Leon opened his laptop and let it boot up. While the electronic device whirred to life, he replayed the message Chris had left. It was hard to scrutinize someone’s intentions from just their voice. Chris sounded…cautious, but candid. 

 

‘I hope you’re okay,’ and ‘please be there…please,’   were expressed differently. They were quieter and almost sounded desperate. The requests were straightforward enough. Okay, simple. Again, neither task benefitted Redfield. 

 

Leon pulled up a blank document and began listing things Chris had asked him during their meeting the other night. It was a short list; noodles in chili, whether the food tasted okay, if he liked ice cream, and accepting an apology. Nothing really stood out as something useful to Redfield. Everything pointed back to himself. 

 

Chris hadn’t reacted the way Leon expected either. The agent had given him every opportunity to be an asshole, but it never came. Leon pushed his buttons but nothing turned on. There had been no ridicule for the panic attack, no sign of frustration. He hadn’t even argued when the blonde kicked him out. 

 

When he had fallen, Redfield had looked the same way Javier did this morning; worried. 

 

Leon’s brow furrowed in frustration as he looked over his sparse notes. He added that Chris had cleaned his apartment, twice, and then he had bought and cooked food. What had they talked about from the night he couldn’t remember? Was that when Chris had gotten his key? Why in the world had Chris contacted him? Had it been because of Claire? 

 

A realization dawned on Leon….. Why is Chris in D.C. in the first place? The agent sighed. He was missing something that connected it all. More questions were formulating, and not many were being answered. 

 

Leon’s frustration grew. In order to find out why Redfield had done what he did was to talk to the man. It wasn’t something the blonde wanted to do. And yet the connections between how Chris and Javier both acted were too similar…the situations too parallel. The agent pulled up his contacts and stared at Chris’s number for a while. 

 

No. 

 

Whatever the conditions, Leon was not going to call Chris. The agent didn’t want to admit defeat. He couldn’t call Claire either. It involved her brother and Leon didn’t want to burden her with trivial problems. 

 

The blonde checked the time: 6:15. There was one other person he could contact. It was early enough so Leon shrugged his shoulders and dialed another number. After two rings, it went to voicemail. Leon didn’t leave one. Within seconds, his phone buzzed from a message. 

 

//Sasha: I am in class. What is it?//

 

Leon sighed in frustration. He thought it was lunch, but had gotten the timing wrong. Holigrad was half way across the world after all. The blonde responded quickly. 

 

//Leon: I need to talk to you about a problem.//

 

//Sasha: Well it will have to wait. The children are testing.//

 

//Leon: How long?//

 

//Sasha: Is it an emergency?//

 

//Leon: No…//

 

//Sasha: Then I will Skype this evening when I get home.//

 

//Leon: What time?// Leon was impatient. 

 

//Sasha: Calm down, Leon. I will call…noon your time I think.//

 

Leon responded with a confirmation and leaned against the couch, discarding his phone on the floor. That’s six whole hours. He wanted to know answers now. Sasha was probably the only person he felt he could talk to about what Redfield had done. That meant he had to play the waiting game. 

 

Leon heard shuffling from his bedroom and he pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache was forming with his aggravation. He stood and grabbed some liquor, unable to face the day on his own. 

Notes:

Sorry about the mini hiatus. The holidays got away from me a bit. Thanks for sticking with the fic this far. I really appreciate the love. Y'all are awesome. :) <3