Archive of Our Own

If there’s one thing Leon gives Ashley credit for, it’s that she’s persistent.

Not in an annoying, girlish, stalkeresque way, but in the fact that she doesn’t take his inability to promptly return a text message as some kind of moral failing. She doesn’t leave him countless voicemails nagging him to call her back. She only asks one more time if he’d like to join the secret service before she drops the matter entirely.

She’s entirely genuine in her enthusiasm when Leon finally answers her texts, and carries the conversation when Leon answers the phone. He never tells her to stop calling or texting because there’s a part of him that will always worry about her, and anyway, you can’t go through something like Valdelobos with someone and then never speak to them again.

It’s something only the two of them can understand. Sometimes, she calls him at three in the morning, and Leon never ignores those calls if he can help it. He knows what it’s like, to wake up and have the nightmares clawing up your throat, begging to free themselves on a scream. To see a bruise on your skin and worry it’s the plagas coming back.

He gets it.

And Ashley has made it her personal mission not to let him drown in his personal sadness. She sends him cute pictures, interesting facts about her day, little jokes that she’s seen on the internet or in real life. He doesn’t always get it, but he appreciates the sentiment.

Which is how Leon spends the occasional Saturday getting coffee with Ashley. They usually take an early morning stroll around downtown Washington DC, without her usual retinue of government guardians. Both because Ashley insists upon it, and because President Graham unequivocally trusts Ashley under Leon’s protection. A fact which Ashley expresses with great pride, even though Leon’s the one with the honor.

He’s not sure he’ll ever understand Ashley, truth be told.

Leon’s schedule is such that he never knows when he’s going to be in the country, and Ashley is finishing up her senior year of college, so they’ve only managed to meet up every now and again since Valdelobos. So when Ashley asks him to meet up, and it’s one of those rare Saturdays where Leon is not only in DC, but not actively recovering from a mission, Leon can’t say no.

Even if it means he has to cancel a date with Luis. Who is not at all pleased or gracious about the cancellation, and takes it as well as anyone can when two partners haven’t seen each other in several weeks. As Leon’s very noisy cell phone, which he is ignoring and considering putting on silent, can attest.

“So,” Ashley says from around a bright pink straw jutting from an equally bright pink frozen concoction that Leon sincerely thinks is more sugar than coffee, “Who is she?”

“Who is who?” Leon peels off the plastic lid and glares into his coffee cup. He did not get his whipped cream, and he’s reasonably sure there’s no chocolate in this either.

Ashley chuckles and bumps him with her shoulder. “Whoever it is that’s been blowing up your phone for the past five minutes?”

“Probably work,” Leon lies and reluctantly replaces the lid. He takes a tentative sip and sighs. No chocolate in his mocha, what a disappointment.

“Wrong. You’d answer it if it was.” Ashley skips ahead of him and spins around to walk backward, managing to do so without missing a single step. “No, you definitely met someone.”

Leon lifts an eyebrow. “Where’s your proof?”

Ashley looks him up and down, though fortunately it’s not as appreciative as it used to be. “You don’t look like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders like you usually do.”

“I don’t do that,” Leon says.

“Yes you do.” Ashley spins back around to walk beside him, taking another long sip of her frapp-thing. She puffs up her shoulders. “It looks kind of like this.” She scrunches her face into something that looks like a grimace.

Leon’s lips twitch before he can stop them. “I have never looked like that in my life.”

“It’s your default expression, Leon.”

“It’s not.”

Ashley huffs at him. “It is, and you’re changing the subject,” she says, shaking a finger at him. “Don’t lie to me, Leon S. Kennedy. You have someone special in your life now, don’t you?”

Leon drinks his disappointing coffee instead of answering the question. She’ll catch him in a lie, he’s sure, and besides, it feels wrong to deny Luis’ existence when Ashley’s right. He is happier with Luis in his life even with all the complications.

Ashley sets her jaw at his silence and flicks some condensation from her coffee at him. “Fine. Don’t tell me. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

“Low blow,” Leon says, and nudges her toward one of the parks scattered around downtown. “Come on. Let’s sit down.”

“Oh, damn. Sitting down and everything.” Ashley waggles her eyebrows in a gesture that’s probably supposed to be a tease. “Is it that woman from Valdelobos? The one who gave us the jetski?”

Leon winces. “No, it’s not Ada.” Though it’s also not-not Ada since she’s directly responsible for saving Luis’ life and pointing Luis in Leon’s direction. “I need to tell you something, and I know you can keep a secret, but you can’t tell anyone. Not even your father.”

Ashley gives him a wide-eyed look. “Wow. That serious.” She sips her coffee as she considers the request. “You know you can trust me, Leon. I’m all ears.”

One of the benches is more isolated than the others, tucked as it is in a patch of garden that’s surrounded by severely trimmed bushes and capped with a small gazebo. Leon nudges Ashley toward it, and looks around them in a quick burst of reconnaissance. He’s sure they haven’t been followed, and no one’s close enough to eavesdrop, but you can’t ever be too careful.

“Geez, what’s with all the subterfuge?” Ashley asks once Leon finally sits, waving away a curious bumblebee. “What’s going on?”

Leon pulls out his phone just to make sure all the missed contacts are from Luis – they are – and tucks it away. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “It’s not Ada,” he says. “But it is someone from Valdelobos.”

Ashley’s forehead wrinkles with confusion. “Who? Everyone else is dead.” She swirls the straw in her coffee, turning it a muddy pink. “I mean, I assumed they were.”

“So did I.” Leon sighs and picks at the paper sleeve around his mediocre coffee. “Until Luis Serra walked into the bar and bought me a drink.”

The straw goes skretch as Ashley shoves it back through the narrow, plastic slit. “What? Luis is alive? But you said–”

“He was dead?” Leon sits back against the rough slats of the bench, tilting his head to look at the cobwebbed ceiling of the gazebo. “I thought he was, but Ada found him, saved his life, and now he’s working for her here in DC.”

“He’s alive, and he’s in DC?” Ashley echoes, her voice nearly a shriek of surprise. She jerks to her feet and leans into his field of view. “She’s a he?”

Leon blinks. “What?” He only understands the first half of her babble.

Ashley jabs her finger toward his pocket, where he’d stowed his phone. “The person blowing up your phone is Luis? Why? Is he under your protection?”

“Technically, he’s under Ada’s protection,” Leon corrects.

“But you still see him?” Ashley demands.

Leon looks away from her and scratches the back of his neck. “When I’m not away on a mission, yeah. I was supposed to see him today but–”

“But you canceled for me.” Ashley drops back down into the bench with a weighted plop. “You canceled a date for me.”

“I mean, I don’t know if I’d call it a date,” Leon says, but she’s staring him down like they’re in an interrogation room, and she’s the detective who just caught him in a lie. His half-assed reply peters out.

Ashley takes a loud sip of her coffee before she says, “Does he know you’re with me?”

“No…?” Leon doesn’t understand the question. Why would it matter? “I told him I was meeting a friend, and it wasn’t something I could reschedule.”

Ashley’s grinning as she half-turns in the bench, pulling up one leg to fold it beneath her. “I’m your friend?”

This sounds like a trick question, but no matter how much Leon turns it upside down and inside out, he can’t figure out the riddle.

“Yes…?” Leon tries, and Ashley’s grin gets wider.

She drums her fingers on her knee and says, “I want to see him.”

“Who?”

“Luis! Duh.” Ashley rolls her eyes. “He helped save us, and I never got to thank him for it. Now’s my chance.”

Leon drinks his not-mocha, grimacing at the burnt taste of it. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Ask him,” Ashley says with a nudge to his shoulder. “Bet he’ll say yes.” She puts on a very effective pout that is the sole reason Leon never misses these visits in the first place. “Come on, Leon. You’re here. What could go wrong?”

“Please don’t tempt the universe,” Leon sighs, but he pulls out his cell phone and contemplates how to go about doing this. “We could reschedule for another day?”

“And wait months until all of our schedules line up? No way. Call him now,” Ashley says, nodding as if it’s a foregone conclusion. She slurps noisily at her coffee, watching him over the pink straw with raised eyebrows.

Leon sighs again and calls Luis. He gets up from the bench and walks a few steps away, nowhere Ashley will be out of sight or out of reach, but enough that he has the illusion of privacy. She watches him the whole time, grinning like a loon, and Leon’s face gets hot for a reason that has nothing to do with the weather.

Luis doesn’t pick up until the fourth ring, right before it would have rolled into voicemail. “Can I help you?” Luis answers in the fakest, customer service tone Leon has ever heard anyone use.

“What are you doing?” Leon asks.

“Well, I was supposed to be on a date with my boyfriend,” Luis says, and there’s a squeaky-creak in the background, probably him leaning back in his chair as he has a bad habit of doing. “But since he’s terribly busy with classified lies, I’m just sitting here watching the paint peel.”

Leon rubs at his forehead. “The paint doesn’t peel. Ada would never allow it.” Besides, he knows for a fact that Luis and Ada’s newest hideout is on one of the top floors of a very tall building in Washington DC. He doesn’t know which one, because Ada prefers it that way, but he does know that Luis has comfortable accommodations and a very big window with a lovely view of the sunrise.

Luis sniffs. “That doesn’t mean I’m not busy.”

Leon glances toward Ashley, who’s still watching him expectantly. “It wasn’t a lie,” he hisses, trying to keep his voice low. “And I can explain it if you’ll just come meet me.”

“Why would I do that? Maybe I made other plans since you dumped me,” Luis says, and Christ almighty, Leon’s going to be in for a week of blowjobs to earn forgiveness.

“Did you?”

There’s a long moment of silence before Luis says, “Of course not. I can’t wander around in public. I’m supposed to be dead!”

“Where’s Ada?”

“Not fucking here.”

Ah.

No wonder Luis is upset. He hates to be alone, and Ada isn’t too fond of leaving him alone, from what Leon’s gathered. Oh, she disappears now and again for her business dealings and private affairs, but any long-term travels usually coincide with when Leon is in DC and able to keep an eye on Luis.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Leon says, a clutch of guilt wrapping around his heart. He scratches the back of his neck. “Would you come anyway? There’s someone here who really wants to see you.”

Luis’ chair gives off a squawk of protest as he rights it, and his feet hit the ground with an audible thump. “That sounds like a trap. I don’t know anyone.”

“Luis.”

“Alright, alright. You don’t have to beg,” Luis says, but Leon can tell he’s grinning just by the glee in his voice. “Or maybe you do. But we can save that for later, Sancho. Where are you?”

A warm feeling resonates in Leon’s chest at the realization he’d get to see Luis today after all. He’s such a stupid mess. “Independence Park. We’re in the south gazebo.”

“Got it. I’m sure I can find you.” Rustling noises rise in the background, and Leon expects the call to end, except Luis continues with, “So what am I?”

Leon blinks. “Is that a trick question?”

Luis laughs. “You are so adorable sometimes.” He must shift the phone to his other ear because there’s a muffled scrape of cloth. “We’re dating, but are you telling this mysterious person that, or do I need to pretend we’re just friends?”

Oh.

“I didn’t think about that,” Leon says. Coming out to someone else hadn’t been a thought to cross his mind. He doesn’t have family to tell, unless he counts Claire, so it hasn’t been relevant yet.

STRATCOM doesn’t need to know about his dating life, so he feels no need to inform them. Besides, with DADT, Leon knows to keep his mouth shut. It’s not lying if no one asks. And Leon isn’t forced to deny the best thing that ever happened to him. He knows, of course, that discretion is the better part of valor here. It would be safer to pretend that he and Luis are just friends.

The thought of doing so, however, makes something churn inside his belly like the coffee has turned to acid. Leon has enough shit in his life. He’s fought monsters and zombies and survived a plagas infection. He survived Raccoon City. He survived six hellish years of brutal training to keep Sherry Birkin safe.

And he can’t even talk about how happy he is? Or the reason why? It’s bullshit.

“Leon?” Luis calls his name, oddly gentle given his snappish commentary earlier. “I’ll follow your lead. It won’t change anything about us.”

Except it will. Because Leon will always feel a small thread of shame about being with Luis, and he doesn’t want that. He’s fine not telling his bosses, keeping his silence from acquaintances and strangers in the street. But Ashley’s supposed to be a friend, and to deny Luis to her, Leon can’t do it.

If after all they’ve been through together, she turns her nose up at him because he’s in love with Luis, well, that’s a friend Leon doesn’t need.

“Let me call you back,” Leon says, and he hangs up before Luis can reply, tucking the phone into his pocket.

He marches back to where he left Ashley, less than thirty feet away. She’s still sitting on the bench, though she’s moved so she can swing her feet, and her sugar concoction of a coffee is just about empty. She’s all smiles as Leon approaches.

“Is he coming?” she asks.

“We’re dating,” Leon says. “Me and Luis, I mean. He’s my boyfriend.”

“I know,” Ashley says without missing a beat. She drags her straw up and down, creating a horrible squeaking noise. “But is he coming?”

Leon’s prepared puff of indignation abruptly deflates. “You know?” he echoes. “Wait. How did you know?” It can’t be obvious, can it? Is he radiating some kind of ‘newly bisexual guy right here’ energy?

“Because I’m very smart,” Ashley says in a prim tone. She raises both eyebrows. “I figured you had someone, whoever it was buzzing your phone, so when you said it was Luis, I put two and two together.” She shrugs. “You still haven’t answered my question though.”

As if on cue, Leon’s phone buzzes madly in his pocket. He fishes it out, unsurprised to find Luis on the caller ID. Leon answers it while Ashley beams like she’s solved some grand puzzle, and slurps up the rest of her coffee.

“I’m going to need you to not do that again,” Luis huffs into the phone. There’s an odd crackle around his voice – he must be in the elevator. “Do I need to turn around or what?”

“You’re my boyfriend,” Leon blurts out, his face feeling a heat that has nothing to do with the blazing sun. Ashley giggles and looks incredibly proud of herself. “That’s what I told her.”

“Her?” Luis echoes.

Leon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ll see when you get here. Turn your phone off, too. I don’t know what kind of spyware Ada has on it.”

It’s Luis’ turn to sigh. “I seriously don’t know how you can both trust someone and not trust them at the same time, but if you insist. See you soon, carino.”

Luis hangs up on him this time, which fair, so Leon tucks the phone back into his pocket, and looks at Ashley, who’s practically vibrating with excitement. Of course, it could also be the gallon of sugar she just consumed.

“Well?”

“He’s on his way,” Leon says.

Ashley squeals and leaps up from the bench. She’s halfway to throwing herself at him for a hug before she checks herself and stops. Waiting for permission.

Leon sighs. “Alright,” he says, and then he has an armful of Ashley Graham, tossing her arms over his shoulder and squeezing the life out of him.

“This is wonderful. I’m so happy for you,” she says as he awkwardly pats her back. “I’m happy for me, too.”

“For you?” Leon asks as she gives him one more squeeze before letting go and giving him back his personal space.

“Because Luis is alive,” Ashley says, which might be her idea of clarification, but it doesn’t solve anything for Leon. She holds up her empty cup and gives it a shake. “This calls for another coffee.”

Leon retrieves his own abandoned coffee. “I’m not sure you need more sugar. Or caffeine.”

“You’re cute when you’re trying to be a responsible adult.” Ashley laughs and hooks her arm around his elbow, tugging him away from the gazebo. “I’m a college student, Leon. My veins might as well be coffee. I’ll be fine.”

Leon tosses his coffee and her empty cup into a garbage bin as they pass. “If you say so.”

There’s a small coffee stand in the park. Leon’s never had their coffee, but if it’s better than whatever he had before, he’ll be satisfied. Ashley hums as she pulls him along, radiating a good mood that’s a bit infectious. She seems to be thriving, and Leon is glad to see it.

“Tell me everything,” Ashley says as they wait in line, the sun beaming down as if to make up for the previous week of rainy gloom.

Leon shields his eyes, wishing he’d thought to bring some sunglasses, and skims the menu board, written in brightly colored chalk that’s been erased multiple times. “You’ll have to be more specific. Most of my missions are classified.”

“I don’t care about your missions. I want to know about Luis,” Ashley says with an exasperated huff. She bounces on the balls of her feet. “How long have you been together? When did it happen? How long have you known he’s alive?”

It’s a barrage of questions, coming too quick for Leon to answer without going a little crazy, but he does the best he can. They’d been together six months, give or take, with all the time Leon’s been out of the country on missions, though he’s not sure if he should count the handful of weeks before they had the Relationship Talk. It’s up to Luis if he wants to talk about what he does for Ada.

No, he’s not going to show her any pictures. Largely because Leon will not run the risk of taking them on his phone, and having someone at STRATCOM find out that Luis is alive. Though Luis has taken a few, and hell probably be giddy to get to show someone.

On and on and on.

It’s a relief when they’re finally at the counter to place their order, because it requires a break in the onslaught of curiosity. Ashley gets another iced sugar monstrosity, Leon attempts to get another mocha, and knowing Luis, he orders an Americano with an extra shot. Ashley’s veins might be running on coffee, but Leon’s rather sure Luis’ body is ninety percent caffeine at this point.

The other ten percent is probably nicotine, though he has been making effort to cut back as of late. “I’m trying to quit,” he’d said when Leon noticed he didn’t reach for his habitual post-sex cigarette. “Got a reason to live longer now.”

“To stop the bad guys?” Leon had asked.

Luis had snorted and bit a kiss at the curve of Leon’s jaw. “You’re so clueless sometimes. It’s you, dumbass.”

“Leon?” Ashley pokes him in the side, and Leon blinks out of the memory, furrowing his brow as he looks down at her.

“What?”

She tugs him away from the ordering window so the people behind them can move up. “You must have been thinking about Luis. You even know what he likes to drink.”

Leon folds his arms, feeling trapped by her curiosity. “It’s not like he drinks anything special. He doesn’t like flavored coffee unless he’s in the mood for something sweet.”

“Uh huh,” Ashley says with that wide-ass grin like she’s got a secret. “You’re blushing, Leon.”

He puts a scowl on his face. “It’s hot.”

“Sure,” Ashley chirps.

The barista calls out their order, and Leon hurries to retrieve it, stuffing a handful of change into the tip jar as thanks. Leon tentatively takes a sip of his drink – iced mocha, in deference to the heat – and there it is, the chocolate he should have had before. Thank god. He juggles both cups, fishes out a five, and dumps that in the tipjar, too.

“Seriously though, I’m glad to hear it,” Ashley says as they head back to the gazebo, which has stayed miraculously empty during the ten minutes or so they spent at the coffee stand. “You look happy, and after what we’ve been through, well, we deserve happy. Don’t we?”

Leon grunts and drops down onto the gazebo bench, which gives a creak of dismay at the addition of his weight. “Are you happy?”

“I am, thanks for asking.” Ashley sits beside him with more grace. She toys with the straw of her sugary concoction, something that’s almost bright green with a tower of whipped cream on top. “And I know Luis isn’t completely innocent, but he helped us, so that’s what I’m looking at.”

Leon makes a noncommittal noise and focuses on his coffee. “It’s complicated.”

“Physics is complicated,” Ashley corrects with a blinding smile. “This is just…” She pauses to wave a hand in a vague gesture. “Grey. Morally grey. Grey area.” She wrinkles her nose. “I slept through most of philosophy.”

“What use is a college education if you’re just going to sleep through your classes?”

Ashley holds up one finger at him. “If you can give me one place I can actually use philosophy, then maybe I’ll concede your point.”

Leon narrows his eyes. What does he know? He went to the police academy, not college. His skills lay mainly in killing bad people and (hopefully) rescuing good ones. And making morally gray connections to equally morally gray people, apparently.

“You’re paying for it,” Leon says after much too long spent contemplating an answer he doesn’t have.

Ashley breaks out into a stream of genuine laughter. “That’s the same answer my dad gave. Are you already an old man, Leon?”

“Leon’s got an old soul. That’s one of my favorite things about him.”

Luis’ voice cuts through the wet heat of the afternoon, making the hair rise on the back of Leon’s neck, and a warmth rush through his body that has nothing to do with the baking sun. He’s smiling before he can stop himself, though his reaction has nothing on Ashley, who sets down her coffee and springs up from the bench with a delighted gasp.

“Luis!” she near-shouts before she throws herself at him in a tackling hug that puts several professional linebackers to shame.

Luis manages to plant his feet and stay upright. “Oof,” he says, though he returns the embrace with a couple light pats to her back. “That’s a kinder welcome than I deserve, Princess.”

“That’s not up to you, is it?” Ashley squeezes a squeak out of Luis before letting him go, though she keeps his hands trapped with both of hers. “I never got a chance to say thank you.”

Leon moves to the edge of the gazebo and leans against the trellised post. It’s been a couple weeks, and he can’t help drinking in the sight of his lover. Luis is freshly shaven, hair pulled off his neck, dressed in clinging jeans and a shirt he might’ve stolen from Leon’s closet. Dark circles suggest he hasn’t slept much in the past week, but Leon can fix that. He’s just gotta get Luis home.

Luis looks up at him briefly, but his attention returns to Ashley just as quick.

“Just fixing a problem I caused. No thanks needed,” Luis says. He’s smiling, but there’s a tightness around his eyes that Leon recognizes. As charismatic as Luis is, reminders of his past tend to hit him hard.

Leon steps down from the gazebo, coffee in each hand, and shoves Luis’ Americano in his face, a minor distraction to chase away the dark thoughts. “Here. I got some for you.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite,” Luis purrs with an exaggerated wink that’s purely for Ashley’s benefit. “You see? Leon’s the hero. He’s always there when you need him.”

Ashley smiles. “Yeah, I know.” She hooks her arm through Luis’ and tugs him back toward the gazebo. “Come on. Sit down and tell me everything.” She looks over her shoulder pointedly. “Leon’s not been very forthcoming.”

“I’m shocked,” Luis says dryly. He tosses a wink back at Leon, and that wink makes Leon flush all over, playful as it is. “What do you want to know, princess?”

“For starters, how did you survive?” Ashley asks, immediately followed by such a barrage of questions, Leon’s ears start to ring. “How are you working for Ada? Where do you live now? When did you and Leon get together? Does the government know about you? How are you staying safe?”

Luis holds up his hands and drops down into the bench, leaving room for Ashley and Leon to either side of him. “Whoa, whoa. One question at a time. I can’t even remember the first question after all that.”

Ashley plops down on Luis’ right, half-turned in the bench to face him. Leon’s left with a sliver of space on Luis’ left, so he squirms into the bench and has to put his right arm along the back of it, just to give himself some breathing room.

“Start at the beginning then,” Ashley says.

“If you insist,” Luis replies after taking a long slurp of his coffee. “I was born on a frigid winter’s night–”

“Luis!” Ashley interrupts him with a laugh, but Leon can only frown. They haven’t talked about birthdays yet actually. It’s basic information. Why doesn’t he know this? “I didn’t mean that far back.”

Luis rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “You should’ve been more specific then. Which beginning?”

“Hey,” Leon asks, tugging on Luis’ short ponytail to get his attention. “When’s your birthday? I just realized I don’t know.”

“Huh.” Realization dawns on Luis’ face. “March thirteenth. When’s yours?”

Fuck.

Last month and he hadn’t mentioned it? Leon furrows his brow, thinking back. No, worse. Luis hadn’t mentioned it because Leon had been on assignment somewhere in southern Texas where they suspected a remnant of Umbrella was attempting to smuggle bioweapon data across the border.

It turned out to be a false lead. Leon sprained his wrist tackling a guy who was trying to transport marijuana of all things, not vials of G-virus. Leon had turned the idiot over to the DEA and trudged home where medical forced him into a brace and took him off duty for a week.

Leon hadn’t come back in the best of moods.

“I missed it,” Leon acknowledges, and Luis gives him something like a helpless shrug. Like it couldn’t be helped.

“Tell me yours, Sancho,” Luis says, poking him in the knee.

“August Thirtieth.” Two weeks before he was given the mission to rescue Ashley from Los Illuminados, point of fact. He couldn’t remember what he’d done. Gone out drinking probably.

Ashley is aghast. “I can’t believe you two don’t know each other’s birthdays. You’ve been dating for at least six months, right?”

“It didn’t come up,” Leon says, though Ashley has a point. That’s kind of important information to know from one’s significant other. But also in their defense, Leon’s out of the country half the time, and Luis is buried in the lab.

Ashley, however, shakes her head as if she’s severely disappointed in the both of them. “Don’t you guys talk to each other? Or what, do you spend all your time fucking?”

“Ashley!” Leon’s heart leaps into his throat.

“Princess, that’s not polite!”

She rolls her eyes at them, completely unrepentant. “I’m old enough to drink. I’m old enough to know that people have sex. Come on, guys.”

Luis clutches at his chest like he’s feeling the same palpitations as Leon. “I know that’s true, but even so, have a care for our tender ears.”

“Tender ears?” Ashley snorts and takes a long sip of her frappuccino, draining it in a big gulp. “We all survived the same hell, I don’t think any of us can claim innocence anymore.”

Leon’s heart clutches again, for an entirely different reason. Luis almost didn’t survive Valdelobos. If not for Ada, he wouldn’t be here today, beside Leon, sharing coffee on a lazy April afternoon. Leon would be alone right now, probably diving right into the next mission without bothering to take a break, because why would he want to go home to an empty apartment and a cold bed?

Fuck, he’s so lucky.

Leon shifts his right hand just a tad, touching the back of Luis’ neck, gently carding his fingers through Luis’ hair. If they weren’t in public, he would have swept Luis up in a hug, peppered him in kisses. This is the best they can do.

“That’s true enough,” Luis says, tilting his head into Leon’s touch. “Curse away, Ashley. You’ve earned it.”

“Just don’t tell my father,” Ashley says with a laugh. “He wants me to be his little girl forever.”

Luis reaches back and rests his hand on Leon’s knee, giving it a squeeze that spreads warmth all the way through Leon’s body. “I hear fathers are like that.”

“Speaking of fathers–” Leon checks his watch as Ashley groans with disappointment. It’s a quarter to four, and Ashley’s regular security detail prefers to get her out of public before rush hour hits. “Time for you to get home.”

“Darn. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” Ashley says. She rockets up from the bench and stretches her arms over her head. “It’s not a good idea for them to come looking, I guess. Don’t want them looking too hard at Luis.”

Luis laughs. “No, we don’t want that at all.”

Leon gathers empty cups and takes them to the bin while Luis and Ashley bend their heads together, exchanging phone numbers no doubt. It’ll be good for the both of them – having someone else to talk to. There’s a special loneliness that comes with having lived through any experience involving BOWs. Mostly because people typically don’t survive, and the ones that do tend to be silenced by non-disclosures.

“And you’ll actually call me?” Ashley is in the middle of asking by the time Luis returns. She’s got her arms around his neck, giving him one of those great squeezing hugs she’s so fond of.

Luis chuckles and pats her on the back, far more comfortable with it this time. “Of course, princess. I’m not as aloof as Leon. Promise.”

Bold words from a man who outright ghosted Leon only a few months ago. Leon’s forgiven Luis for it, and they haven’t had any issues in that department since, but every once in awhile, Leon rolls over and wonders if Luis will be there. If in the middle of the night, Luis will have snuck off, never to be seen again without so much as a goodbye.

It’s an irrational fear. That doesn’t mean he’s not affected by the moment of panic.

“I’ll come after you if you don’t,” Ashley threatens, and from anyone else, it might seem like a playful jibe, but Leon’s seen what Ashley is capable of. He wouldn’t put it past her.

Luis crosses his hand over his chest with a little forward bow. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“That’s not funny!”

“It’s really not,” Leon bites out, joining them. Luis’ sense of humor often leaves something to be desired, but his jokes about death are particularly unfunny. It’s probably a coping mechanism, but the mere mention always brings about a cold flush to Leon’s veins.

Luis holds up his hands in playful surrender. “No jokes about my near-death. I understand.” He tosses Ashley a cheerful salute. “It was good seeing you. Maybe if I can pry Leon out of life-and-death situations, we can do this again.”

“I’m pretty sure I can make that happen,” Ashley says, and it sounds less like a joke and more like a threat.

Oh, boy.

Watch Ashley figure out how to convince her father to just start requisitioning Leon instead of waiting for their schedules to align. The look on Hunnigan’s face when she reads over that assignment would be priceless.

“Good.” Luis turns like he’s going to leave, but he claps his hand on Leon’s shoulder and leans in to say, “I’ll head back to your place, yeah?” He squeezes, the pressure of his fingers like a promise for later.

It’s a blazing hot day. Leon still shivers.

“I’ll be home in thirty.” Leon lowers his voice so Ashley can’t overhear. “Thanks for coming.”

Luis chuckles and squeezes his shoulder again. “Oh, I’ll be coming later,” he purrs, and Leon wants to kiss him so fucking bad it’s an ache in his chest.

But they’re in public, and while Leon doesn’t give a shit about what a bunch of strangers think, he doesn’t want to attract too much attention, or have people give Ashley a second look, just in case. It’s none of their business.

He swallows down the urge to kiss Luis, to lean in toward him for something like affection, and just nods, his mouth dry and heart wanting. “Only if you make dinner.”

“Oye, hard bargain!” Luis declares with a laugh, but off he goes, a loping stride that Leon doesn’t bother to pretend he’s not watching. He doesn’t think Luis owns a pair of jeans that isn’t skin-tight, and the way this particular pair hugs his ass is a treasure.

“It’s a good look on you.”

Leon blinks, turning back toward Ashley, who’s giving him the softest smile. “What is?”

“Happiness.” Ashley hooks her arm through his and tugs him opposite of Luis, to the other end of the park where a block or so away, her chariot waits. “You didn’t smile much back then. I honestly wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

Leon shrugs around her hold but lets her keep his arm. “I had a job to do. It wasn’t really a place for smiling.”

“Sure,” Ashley says, and then gives him a sly look around a quiet laugh. “Though if I’d known you were gay, I could’ve saved myself the inconvenient crush.”

“I’m not,” Leon starts to say, but then he bites down on the words. He supposes he is, actually, being that he’s with Luis and all. Except, circumstances being different, he’d want to end up in a bed with Ada, too. She still sets him on fire, though he hasn’t spoken directly to her since that last, ill-advised kiss.

He doesn’t know, if it’s just one or the other, or if it’s just Ada-and-Luis. Honestly, Leon’s not paid it much thought. He spends more time trying to stay alive, fighting back wave of wave of rich men and their mad weapons to save one more innocent life. In the wake of that, what makes his dick hard kind of doesn’t matter.

“It’s okay,” Ashley says with a squeeze to his arm, genuine and not teasing. “Thanks for letting me know he’s alive. And don’t worry. I can keep a secret.”

“Know you can,” Leon says. He doesn’t trust many people these days, but he trusts Ashley Graham. Surviving something like Valdelobos together makes a bond that’s hard to shake.

Ashley beams as if he’s given her some great gift, and changes the subject to her upcoming finals and how she plans to spend the summer break before her senior year. There’s no mention of a vacation to a tropical island, and Leon tactfully doesn’t point that out. He’s seen enough faraway places that he’d like to never see again. He gets it.

Leon safely deposits Ashley in the care of her regular retinue of secret service, and watches until the sleek, dark sedan vanishes down the road, lost to the flow of traffic. He fetches his Ducati from the gated parking lot and turns toward his apartment in the opposite direction. There’s something about knowing Luis is waiting for him that has him leaning a bit harder on the accelerator, weaving in and out of traffic.

Delicious smells greet him as Leon slips into his apartment, and his heart stutters in his chest at the sight of Luis in the kitchen, bustling around for meal prep, just as he had several months ago. Leon doesn’t know what he’s making this time, but Luis is wearing that silly apron Leon bought for him as a joke. It says ‘kiss the cook’ but in Spanish, besa al cocinero.

That’s one request Leon is happy to oblige.

He gets his arms around Luis and his nose tucked into Luis’ nape before Luis even knows he’s there. It pays to have six years of special ops training in his wheelhouse.

“Oye!” Luis says, playfully elbowing him in the gut. “It’s dangerous to startle a man at the stove.”

“Oops,” Leon says, not sorry at all, as he noses into the back of Luis’ ear and tugs on his lobe with his teeth. He flattens his palms on Luis’ belly, measuring the accumulated softness as of late. Good, healthy weight.

Luis leans back into his arms. “Princess get home safe and sound?”

“Far as I know.”

“Good.” He stirs something on the stove before turning his head sharply and planting a kiss along the curve of Leon’s jaw. “Congratulations on coming out.”

Leon rolls his eyes and hooks his chin on Luis’ shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Only you would say that,” Luis responds with a snort. He shifts to dump some kind of spice on whatever he’s sauteing. “I can’t finish making dinner with a supersoldier attached to my back.”

“I’m not a supersoldier,” Leon retorts, digging his teeth into the curve of neck and shoulder because he can, and because it makes Luis yelp. He scurries away before Luis can retaliate, leaning against the opposite counter instead.

All the better to watch Luis work, to catch the heat staining Luis’ cheeks, and the shift of his shoulders beneath the loose shirt. The ties of that damn apron dangle in loops above his ass, and all Leon can think about is catching one of the strings and pulling it loose.

Luis chuckles. “Whatever you say, Sancho.” He looks over his shoulder, grinning, a sparkle in his eyes, and Leon is struck by how very lucky he is. “Wash up and help me finish then. I’m not cooking this dinner all on my own.”

“What do you want me to do?” Leon pushes off the counter and obediently starts to wash his hands. It’s always a risk, asking him to help cook, but he’s gotten better over the past couple of months.

“Think you can handle melting the butter?”

Leon thinks about the splatters of butter on the inside of the microwave from the last time he attempted to do so. “Sure.”

It’s startlingly domestic, Leon realizes as he pulls the butter out of the fridge, and locates the minced garlic because he has a feeling Luis is making some kind of pasta. Domestic is something Leon hasn’t had in a long time, if ever, and it’s kind of nice. Coming home knowing Luis will be waiting for him at some point. Shared meals and shared mornings and shared showers. The sight of Luis at his stove in a pleated pink apron.

The little things.

Leon pops the butter into the microwave, and closes the door, catching his reflection in the dark plastic. He doesn’t know if he looks happy, but a certain tightness around the corners of his eyes seems to be absent at the moment.

“Change the power level,” Luis says.

Leon rolls his eyes. “I remember,” he says, finger drifting away from start to switch the intensity of the microwave from high to low.

Luis snorts, amused, and it’s so goddamn domestic, the warm flutters dance through Leon’s belly and take up residence in his chest.

Ashley might be right. Maybe this is what happiness looks like after all.