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"Find something interesting?" Luis asked as he entered the room, motioning to the book in Leon's hands.
The worn leather cover was soft under Leon's fingertips as he read a short passage aloud. When he looked up, he arched a brow at the stare Luis was giving him.
"What? Thought you'd appreciate a bit of Cervantes."
"Oh, I do — gracias — It's just," Luis paused, straightening from his lean against the door frame, "You don't speak Spanish like an American."
("Your Spanish could use some work.")
"Okay... Thanks?" Leon closed the book and returned it to the shelf where he'd found it. He resumed his search of the room with his back to Luis, who hummed thoughtfully.
"I'm guessing... Private lessons, from an ex?" Luis circled the room after Leon, each step at half his pace. "Not Mexican, I think, but South American? Yes? Reminds me a little of a Peruvian beauty that I once knew."
("That's the spirit!" he said with a pat to Leon's shoulder, his eyes as bright as his smile.)
("You should visit me in Bolivia. I'll show you a good time.")
"Not an ex. Not from Peru." Leon kept track of Luis's position with short glances. He was almost back to the doorway and ready to move on to the next room.
"Oh, someone's waiting for you, my friend?" Luis watched Leon carefully, then he shrugged. "Ah, guess not. Their loss."
Leon was one foot out the door when he heard Luis mumble something in Spanish that caused him to freeze and turn sharply back around to face him. Any shred of neutral composure Leon had left was extinguished in an instant, his eyes hard and voice stern.
"If you've got something to say to me, Luis, say it to my face."
Luis held his hands in front of his chest in surrender with an easygoing smile, even as he took a slow step backward, and another, his hands lowering as he answered.
"I was merely talking to myself, mi amigo. Wondering about that talented tongue of yours—" Leon knocked him against the nearby wall with his left forearm high across his chest, his grip tight on the sleeve of Luis's jacket just under his left shoulder. "—and who would be stupid enough to let you go."
("Hey... At least buy me dinner first, Leon."
"...Gladly.")
Leon narrowed his eyes and pushed, pinning the Spaniard more firmly than necessary. Luis didn't squirm. Leon could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. Dark eyes steadily met blue, and when Luis tilted his head, a stray lock of hair brushed over his cheekbone.
"I mean, if it were me, I wouldn't want to leave your lessons incomplete. So, who was your practice partner, Leon?"
(He whistled, leaning back in his seat. "RPD, huh?" His smile grew with his quiet chuckle, but it soon softened and gained a facet of wryness. Dark eyes held Leon's cautious gaze for a beat, then in a measured tone, he said, "Tell Jill I said hello, will ya?"
Leon could only stare back at first, eyes wide, brain misfiring. "You've gotta be kidding me..." He finally replied, shaking his head. "Okay. Next round's on you."
Carlos grinned. "Sounds good to me.")
"That's none of your business, Luis."
"Well, then," Luis sighed, his soft exhale ghosting over Leon's skin. He glanced down at Leon's mouth a couple of times with quick, fluttery movements. "Mind if I test your skills? Offer you a free... tutoring session, perhaps?"
Luis didn't move, content to let Leon take this wherever he wanted.
("This is a—" he exhaled harshly with a faint cry, "—a bad idea. Especially for you."
"I know," Leon breathed into his ear.)
Leon made a low noise in his throat, adjusting his arm holding Luis in place so that he had a fistful of the front of Luis's jacket instead, the open gap in his half-buttoned shirt spreading wider.
"This is a bad idea," Leon said to the recently scarred skin in front of him.
"And?"
"And nothing." Leon pushed himself away from Luis and let go. Luis remained sagging against the wall. "Now's not the time for this."
"When we get out of here, then?" Luis ran a hand through his hair, his gaze still sharp as he watched the American. "Leon?"
Before Leon could say anything, a cough wracked through him. He gasped for air, bent double. Luis rushed forward, a hand rubbing his back until the coughing fit and subsequent wave of vertigo passed.
"I'm all right," Leon whispered in English, letting Luis press against his side and help steady him. He switched to quiet reassurances in Spanish, which earned him something like an embrace and another rub to his back before Luis gave him his space.
"You better be, Sancho."