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leon kennedy didn’t do emotions - not since raccoon city, at least. the only time anyone got even the slightest glimpse into his mental state was when he uttered the word ‘fine’ in response to how his day was going.
the agent essentially trained himself to bury his emotions within the deepest and darkest corners of himself, so untouched that he barely even thought about them anymore. it was a talent, really, something so common amongst those who were in his line of work that it had become a relatable experience, something to bond over. leon, however, was so good at it that he had forgotten what any other emotion besides neutral felt like.
those who were close to leon, or were even just slightly aquatinted with him, were worried about this ability. claire was the most vocal about it. she contacted him as much as she possibly could, even stopping by his apartment with an assortment of takeout food any time she was in town. although he never explicitly said it, leon was thankful for her. claire knew it, though. she had known leon for a long time, and it had become quite easy for her to translate his body language. she understood he wasn’t the best at communication, and that patience she possessed always twisted something inside leon that he couldn’t quite describe. guilt maybe? due to the fact that she went out of her way to do such kind things for him and he couldn’t even properly thank her?
claire always could tell when he was overthinking, running a hand through his hair or intertwining their fingers, reassuring him with soft words because she knew — she always knew.
leon felt a piece of his soul rotting away day-by-day, losing himself slowly in the endless sea of monsters and blood, followed by the waves of bodies of people he knew so well, unable to feel remorse because he had seen it so many times before. all he could do was remove his fingers from the pulse point he could no longer feel beating, shaking his head in defeat as he walked away, completely abandoning them.
he was cold and numb all the time, ice collecting at his fingertips and turning them a faint purple. the chill up his spine hadn't left ever since spain, his body shivering even during the hottest days. it was misery, yet leon didn’t even have time to notice.
but there was one person who was an exception, the only person with the ability to melt the sheen of ice that blanketed leon’s body - and that was chris redfield.
every time leon met eyes with the older man something within him eased, all the tension leaving his shoulders and the constant paranoia fading into the back of his mind. a wave of warmth flooded through him and coated his skin in a light pink flush. the blonde never really noticed this, either that or his ego was too big to admit it. regardless, chris’ presence soothed him, bandaged his internal injuries and relaxed his mind even if just for a moment.
because chris saw the battle leon was fighting more than anyone else did. he saw the scars, both physical and mental, both healed and open. leon let chris do things he wouldn’t even dare to think about anyone else doing.
chris was the only person he would ever call in the middle of the night when he was drunk, the brunette listening to leon slur on about things he couldn’t quite understand until he tired himself out.
chris was the only person he’d let touch the scars that littered his skin in random patterns, a constellation of excruciatingly painful memories that have seeped deep into his bones and painted vivid images in his dreams.
chris was the only person he’s allowed to bandage up small injuries after missions, those that didn’t require professional medical attention or an operating room; the tiny scrapes and bruises that left small trickles of blood and were easily fixed with ointment and band-aids. chris would smile whenever leon hissed at a particularly bad cut. he let his fingers caress the blonde’s wrapped hand a bit longer than necessary, feeling the way leon’s heartbeat would pick up from where his thumb rested above his pulse. although he couldn’t risk his pride by admitting it, chris’ favorite part was being able to brush leon’s fringe behind his ear in order to get to a wound on his forehead, cupping his cheek to keep him steady.
and chris, chris was the only person he’d invite to stay on his couch just so he knew there was someone else in his apartment. every time he woke up the captain found leon asleep in the recliner across from him, blonde hair covering his eyes and a natural pout tugging at his lips. he never asked why leon moved, faking sleep until the younger man woke up and went into the kitchen to start breakfast, letting him think that chris never saw him. but he knew, knew that leon not only needed to know that someone was with him, but needed to see that someone was with him.
but chris hated everything about it - he hated it because it meant leon didn’t trust him enough to let him see what he truly felt. he would rather suffer in silence than tell chris what he really wanted.
after the captain had to pick leon up from a bar one night, too many glasses of whiskey in, he let it be known in a way so subtle even leon couldn’t freak out about it. the blonde’s eyes were glassy and red, drooping in a way to indicate just how truly tired he was. he helped leon to his bed, standing in between the younger man’s legs from where he sat on the edge of the bed.
but leon couldn’t meet chris’ eyes. even from how intoxicated he might’ve been, he was still aware of what was happening, and the embarrassment of it all kept crashing into him over and over again. his cheeks blushed a bright red when he felt chris take his hands gently, removing his fingerless gloves with such caution and ease that it made his eyes sting in a way he felt he couldn’t handle.
chris could feel the way leon shook beneath him, helping the blonde remove his leather jacket. and with some coaxing, he slowly unbuttoned the agent’s top until he was left in just his black undershirt. they sat in silence for a while, chris listening to leon’s unsteady breathing as the proximity in which they were in began to overwhelm him. yet, somehow, one of his walls came tumbling down, and a hand came to clutch at the fabric covering chris’ muscled thigh. the captain’s eyes softened at the gesture, lowering himself until he was squatting down in front of leon, the man’s hand now desperately grasping at his sleeve.
those icy blue eyes were shimmering underneath the city lights spilling in from the open windows, and chris felt his heart shatter at the sight. it was the most emotion leon had shown him in years. whether or not it was the whiskey and his lowered inhibitions, it was happening, and at this point there was no turning back.
chris threw caution to the wind, reaching up until his right hand was cradling leon’s cheek, and he felt the weight lean into him. he didn’t know whether the blonde knew he did it or not, but he didn’t really care. the thumb caressing his skin softly brought leon out of his daze, meeting chris’ eyes for the first time that night. they held a look of pure compassion and understanding, a look that was telling leon to let go, for once in a long time feel what his body has been wanting to feel.
and the dam burst.
but only as much as it could.
a few tears slipped from leon’s eyes. he felt tremors course through his body and it hurt. a small sob broke through his cracked lips and chris took the hand from his sleeve and held it tightly, a reminder that he was there.
leon was scared of what this meant for both him and his relationship with chris, whatever it was at this point.
but when chris smiled at him, it didn’t seem to matter, because ever since raccoon city and the hell that was that night, leon let himself feel. the anger, sadness, loss, guilt.. whatever it may be, he felt.
and if feeling from now on meant chris would be there right beside him, it didn’t really seem all that scary.