Work Text:
The bar air was thick and heavy, the smell of sweat and alcohol lingering in Chris' nose. The rugged man had found himself at this bar more and more lately, the comfort of a buzz being the only thing that could keep his mind off of the cold December days back in 1998. Maybe it hadn't been all that bad, the crowd did make him feel less lonely. But he knew that even as the crowd gathered larger and larger, in the end he was still alone. The dull clinking of his glass against the smooth and varnished bar table made the bartender turn, prepared to pour the lonesome man one last drink. Chris' throat burned with the alcohol that he sipped, his head feeling heavy and his body warm. His expression was dreary, cold and unapproachable, his trauma laden face only shifting to accommodate his lips that wrapped around the cold glass of rum and coke. This wasn't going to be the last time he ended up here, any promise like that would be useless to make so why bother deluding himself like that? A disgruntled sigh escaped his lips, the smell of his drink fresh on his breath as he felt his mind drift. Being unable to control his thoughts in his inebriated state was nothing new, this time being no different from the countless nights he had spent wasting away at the same bar. Claire, Alexia, Steve, Wesker... names and faces floated in his mind as he thought about the worst. His imagination ran wild, the care he had for his sister raising dark anxieties in him as he thought back. What would have happened had he never been given her location by Leon? He felt his heart skip. The name rang in his head, practically clearing his mind of any prior thoughts. Leon S. Kennedy. His face shifted, the coldness easing as he felt an odd sensation run through himself. An unknown feeling, perhaps not felt in years. Chris took another sip of his drink, now watered down and gross. How long has he held still, thinking of that man? The man that helped him find his sister. The man that made his heart skip, but why? He couldn't understand why he was reacting to just his name alone. Gratitude and companionship were normal to him, he had felt thankful and close to many of his fellow workers when he had been in S.T.A.R.S., but why did this feel so different? This skip of his heart, the warmth in his face, the fluttering feeling in his stomach. Just like butterflies. His heart skipped again, realization coming over him slowly like the slow pull of a veil that covered his mind. A puddle of condensation formed on the coaster his drink now sat on. His fingers were cold from the glass that his hand rested on, a stark contrast to the warmth he felt building in his face. The slight clench of his jaw, his hand moving on its own into his pocket. He didn't feel in control at all. The flip of his phone, the contact being pulled up, the message being hastily typed in. He watched himself move, unable to stop himself from reaching out to the man his heart was set on.
Leon took a sip, the sweet and rich flavor of whiskey hitting his tongue. The taste being the opposite of how he felt, bitter and weak. He found himself drinking alone again, in the 'comfort' of his own apartment. His weighted body, sluggish movements and spinning head did nothing to stop him from taking another drink. His mind was rampant, unrelenting and horrible with the constant reminders of Raccoon City. The fear he felt, the suffering he endured surfacing in his mind. Heavy breaths and choked back sobs muffled the sound of the pounding rain on the thin windows, they sounded like they wanted to shatter. Shatter into a thousand pieces, just like him. Balled hands rested on the counter of his kitchen, his hands clenched so tightly that if it weren't for the leather of his fingerless gloves he surely would have broken the skin of his palms. He fought the tears that had already spilled down his face, his breathing becoming inconsistent, watery, like he was drowning. And in a sense, he was. Drowning in sorrow of what had happened only months ago. Drowning in the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed. Hardly even tasting it, just wanting to wash his feelings and thoughts away. It had become almost routine for him to wallow in his kitchen, often finding himself waking up in the bathroom with a stinging in his throat and nose. The putrid taste and smell of vomit filling his senses, almost making him want to retch again. He felt his hands loosening their grip, a slow sink to the floor of the kitchen. Arms wrapping tightly around himself, wishing and praying for the horrid memories and feelings to go away. For someone to hold him, to tell him it would be okay. For comforting words, and a caring pair of arms to wrap around his body. The people he had lost, the people he couldn't save. It was all too much. The past few months have been a blur of emotions and episodes of disassociation, hardly being able to think of anything besides the outbreak. He thought of Claire Redfield, the woman he met at the convenience store at the start of all this mess. He had been happy to help protect her and Sherry, the only two people he had managed to save. Last he had heard of her was that she was raiding an Umbrella Corp facility, having given that information to her brother, Chris Redfield. He felt his breathing even out slowly. Chris Redfield. The tight grip he had on himself loosened. What was it about that man? That man he had met for the first time only a few months back? His caring nature was so obvious when they had met to exchange information, the look of concern on his face when he informed Chris of Claire's whereabouts. The subtle linger of his hand when they had shaken hands. The vibration of his phone makes him snap out of his daze.
Chris stared down at his phone, the light of his phone screen being painfully bright. He could barely read the message he sent, vision being impaired from the countless drinks he had. He snapped his phone closed, not wanting to think about what he had sent. The feeling in him didn't subside, his heart feeling like it was running a mile a minute. It was undeniable, his heart raced for Leon. He had hardly known the man, only few and far between texts that were so flat you'd wonder if they actually were friends at all. And yet he still felt this emotion that grabbed his heart and twisted it horribly. 'There's was no way Leon feels the same, he's not gay. And I don't like men either... Do I?' His mind felt loud. He had never contemplated his sexuality like this. Always having it set that he liked women. But Leon made his heart sing, his mind clear. He looked up to the bartender who avoided his unwelcoming stare. Chris looked to the empty glasses on the bar, his stomach turning with nausea from the fluttering feeling and the drinks he had. He tapped his glass with his fingernail, a quiet 'tink' emitting from it. He looked back up at the bartender, an expecting gaze.
"No more, Redfield. You've had more than enough."
The bartender didn't even turn back to face him, speaking into the wall of various bottles of alcohol. A grunt of disapproval came from Chris, clearly not happy with being cut off from the drink that made him feel worse yet somehow better. Chris turned his attention to the glasses again, empty and covered in droplets of water. He reaches over and grabs one, tipping his head as far back as he could and pressing his lips against the now warm glass. He felt pathetic, trying to gather one last drink of alcohol before he left the bar. The warm hand of the bartender reaches across the bar, grabbing Chris' wrist to pull the glass away. Chris didn't fight back, he knew he would get kicked out if he caused a scene. The glass tapped the table, another dull sound emitting as it did. Chris didn't look up to meet the bartender's eyes, keeping his attention on the bar to avoid the shame he felt. He felt the bartenders hand withdrawal, and he removed his hand from the glass. He wants to say something, his eyes slowly raising to meet the mildly concerned eyes of the bartender, but something stops him. The vibration of his phone makes him fall silent.
Leon grabbed his phone, his hand lazily reaching to feel around on the counter until his hand bumped the device. He pulls the phone down to see the small screen on the outside of the phone. The name made his face flare with heat. Chris Redfield. The very man he had just been thinking about. He flipped his phone open, the need to read the text he had received from the man he had just thought about was very prevalent in his mind. His eyes raced over every letter. All three of them.
'Hey.'
Leon felt his heart sink. Hey. That was all Chris had sent. What had he been expecting? He wasn't sure, but the text sure didn't meet whatever it was he had hoped for. He stared at the message, thumbs skimming over the small buttons of his well worn phone. He didn't press any of the buttons that rested beneath his thumbs, hesitation and inebriation making his hands shake. He swayed slightly, staring. Finally, a few small clicks. A small simple message. A desperate reply. A cry for help.
Chris' hand raced to his pocket, flipping his phone back open. The eagerness was plastered on his face, if they had been looking, the other patrons would have seen just how desperate he had been for this reply. The reply he so longed for, even if it had only been a few moments. He stared at the message.
'Hi.'
Chris wasn't sure what had been expecting, his message hadn't been much more. He was a dry texter, he knew that about himself but it didn't comfort him. He typed a reply, his thumbs clumsily pressing the buttons that seemed so small compared to his large hands. Chris knew why he was talking to Leon, he wanted to see him.
Leon stared at the message that Chris had sent in reply. The words he had been aching for someone to say to him. The four simple words that made his eyes fill with tears again.
'How have you been?'
An immediate reply.
'Not good.'
Chris' face fell. He hadn't even realized a small smile had formed on his face, but it fell as soon as he saw what Leon had texted.
'Is everything okay?'
Chris' text made Leon sigh. The tears that had been falling down his face slowly stopped. His cheeks started to dry, the salt from his tears drying his skin. Leon typed many replies, deleting them immediately after. The words were never right. Not good enough. Not for Chris. Leon couldn't decide if he should open up or not, tell him about the horrible things that raced through his mind. He sat there, staring. Typing, deleting. Sighing, taking in breaths. Typing...
'Leon? Are you okay?'
It caught him off guard. Had he taken too long to respond? His breath quickened. His chest tightened. He moved his thumb to the call button, pressing it. His finger held it for a moment, his phone ringing the dial tone at him. He moved the phone to his ear, wiping his face.
Click
Chris picked up immediately. He hadn't expected it, but he wouldn't let this moment slip away. He needed to hear his voice, he needed to know he was okay. It was silent. Neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Leon's breathing was soft on the other end of the phone. But something changed suddenly in Leon's breathing, a small hiccup and a sniffle. Chris recognized what was happening. Leon was crying.
"Leon?"
Chris finally spoke. Leon's heart jumped, another sniffle and hiccup. The tears started again, he couldn't help it. But this time the tears weren't sad, they were grateful. Leon stayed silent for a moment, a smile trying its hardest to tug on his lips.
"Hey, Chris."
Leon's voice was shaky, hoarse and it stung when he spoke. It rang in Chris' ears. It was sweet, it made his heart warm but it ached at the same time. The fact that Leon had been crying felt like a stab in the chest, a pain worse than any he had felt before. Chris felt a panic in himself, his heart picking up in pace. Was he really feeling this? Why did his heart ache for his voice after it fell silent? Why did his heart cry out for Chris to run and comfort Leon in this time of need, even when he himself was suffering too? Chris wasn't sure if he was truly panicking, or if it was something else that made his heart race. He had to face what was going on with his mind.
He liked Leon.
"Hey, Leon."
Chris' voice wasn't much different from Leon's, cracking and dry. But Leon found it comforting. The sound of Chris' voice again finally brought the smile that had been tugging at Leon's face. A pause and a shaky breath, his voice still stung but the tears had slowed down. Trickling down his cheeks like the rain that trickled down his windows.
"You sound worse for wear."
It was playful, it was in Leon's nature to always be playful like that. That's what drew Chris' heart to the man. How he managed to make him smile, just like he was now.
"I've been better."
Chris' gruff voice and playful response in return to Leon's own comment, it was a solace to him. Somehow, in the sea of dark depression that he had drank himself into, Chris had brought a smile to his face. His mind having long forgotten the suffering he was enduring a mere moment ago. It still danced in the back of his head, but Chris was his main focus now.
"Chris."
"Leon."
Their names off of each others mouths. Heaven on Earth.
"Are you in town?"
Leon was the first to speak this time, a question that made Chris' heart skip again. He was, but he didn't think to tell Leon. In fact, Chris wasn't sure if Leon would have cared if he was. They were friends, sure but not close. Not close enough to each of their likings.
"I happen to be, is that an invitation?"
It was. Leon was inviting Chris over. Their hearts raced, beating in sync even being over the phone. Leon gave Chris his address, Chris assuring him that he wouldn't be driving and that he would hail a cab. They playfully bickered for a moment about who would pay for the cab, but it didn't matter to them truly. What mattered most is how it would be when they finally came face-to-face again. The eagerness in their voices was prevalent, and they could tell that the other longed for this moment.
"I'm on my way."
Chris and Leon said their goodbyes and 'see-you-soon's. And for the first time in a what felt like a long time, Chris left the bar happier than he had entered. He shut his phone, paying for his drinks and drunkenly stumbling into the cab. Sitting in the cab, Leon sitting at home they each mumbled something they had wanted to say over the phone.
"I love you."