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There are a handful of very tense moments when Leon runs into Carlos Oliveira in the halls of the Raccoon City police station. It fades quickly once they establish they're both still human, both on the same side. Both relieved to see a non-zombie face.
"It's hell out there, right?" Carlos mutters after they've broken the ice and introduced themselves.
"It's hell in here," Leon agrees. He lets out a shaky breath, letting his gun dip back to his side finally, the coast clear for the moment, feeling safer than he has in hours with another warm body beside him. He hopes Claire is doing as well.
Carlos smirks slightly, raking his eyes over Leon's uniform. "Zombie apocalypse isn't exactly the same as handing out traffic tickets and dealing with rowdy drunks, huh?"
"I wouldn't know." Leon shrugs sheepishly. "First day."
Carlos's eyes flicker with recognition, and he laughs, deep and warm and genuine. "Of course, that Leon. I saw your welcome banner in the office. Hell of a day for it."
Leon can only smile weakly. "Yeah."
Carlos makes a thoughtful sound as he steps forward, looking Leon over carefully.
The back of Leon's neck prickles. "What are you doing?"
"Thinking."
Carlos makes a circle around him, observing, cataloging. Leon doesn't feel threatened, not exactly. The other man's hands are relaxed on his weapons, his body language open and calm. Leon's brain can only tell him he's being given a once-over, an appraisal, and that's ridiculous.
So what if Leon's own gaze had lingered on Carlos's enormous arms, the way they could probably snap him in half effortlessly, the moment he stopped worrying he was going to kill him? So what if the thought kind of makes him drool? This is so beyond not the time for that sort of thing.
Carlos stops moving, head tilting a little as he looks at Leon's face again. "You know," he says, nothing but calm. "You look stressed. You've gotta be stressed; I know I am." A grin sparks on his face. "You know what lowers stress hormones?"
Confused, Leon thinks about herbs and first aid sprays and finally manages a, "No? Not really?"
"Kissing," Carlos says.
"What?"
Carlos grins cheekily - handsomely. "Did I stutter?"
Leon scoffs. "No, but-"
Carlos takes a single step forward and Leon takes one back, immediately pressing into the wall behind him.
"Tell me no," Carlos says, a purr, a challenge.
Leon doesn't want to. It's just the insanity of the situation, the fact that he just met this man, doesn't know anything about him but his name, that there's an entire city dying around them, and-
Then Carlos's lips are on his and Leon's thoughts are gone. Then it's just warmth, pressure, Carlos requesting entrance and Leon giving, already melting under him, groaning as a strong tongue enters his mouth, confident, determined, mapping him like Carlos wants to know every piece of him, catalog his every reaction.
And Leon gives them, moaning, whimpering, feeling like one big flayed nerve as Carlos presses closer, those big hands landing on his hips, holding him, caging him, and, he loves it. It all seems to go on forever, an infinite moment, an unending kiss, hot and fierce and all-consuming.
When Carlos finally lets Leon breathe, he doesn't go far, stays right there, grinning again, as if waiting for his reaction.
"Fucking hell," Leon mutters, a hand unconsciously rising to touch his swollen lips.
Carlos quirks a dark eyebrow. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
Adrenaline still pumping, Leon manages a cocky smile in return. "I kiss you with that mouth, apparently."
Carlos's grin is blinding. "Spunky. I like it."
Leon flushes, eyes dropping shyly. Fuck, he really just let this guy kiss him to within an inch of his life, here of all places, of all situations.
"Hey." Carlos's voice has gone soft again, and a single finger comes up to brush Leon's jaw, nudge it up so he can meet his eyes. "You're too pretty to look so nervous."
Leon can't help the undignified sound he makes at that. How does this man already know exactly how to get under his skin?
"You're perfect," Carlos tells him before ducking in for another kiss, briefer, lighter, before Leon can embarrass himself again at the continued praise. "But, I suppose as much as I hate to admit it, there are more important things we should be doing. Tragic. Still, if we stick together, maybe we can have a repeat performance later. Yeah?"
"Yeah," Leon agrees too eagerly, because despite all his thoughts emotions – not to mention his body - still fluttering uncertainly, he knows he wants that.