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Leon was sick, that much was obvious.
Two days straight of a near fully-grown Plagas wriggling around your chest would knock the air out of anyone’s lungs, Luis knew that better than he cared to admit, but this was different. He knew what the side effects looked like from the outside and he knew better than to ignore any sudden changes in Leon’s behaviour, but none of what the blonde was experiencing lined up with any of his research. Thorough research, Luis may add, almost five years of his life dedicated to it. Granted, most of those years weren’t voluntarily given… but the point still stood; whatever Leon had come down with was most likely some kind of bodily reaction to the antidote or the invasiveness of the Plagas itself, something Luis never had the privilege of seeing or experiencing himself. He’d never been fortunate enough to purge it from himself the way Leon had, after all…
But at the end of the day Leon was still sick. And at the end of the day Luis still had the emotional fortitude of a kicked puppy and seeing his knight in shining armour in such distress upset him more than it probably did Leon.
It’d been almost two weeks now since Ashley ‘Baby Eagle’ Graham was returned home safe and sound, and almost two weeks of Luis hunkering down in Leon’s living room and using his couch as a makeshift bed, much to his delight.
The agent was ever so gracious enough to offer his home to him once he’d realised Luis had nowhere to go, and the Government hadn’t seemed to catch onto his past yet (or at the very least, Hunnigan never snitched). So Luis considered himself lucky. As lucky as a man with a knife-shaped hole in his back and no feeling in his legs could be but whatever. Three days strapped to a hospital bed was worth it to see his Sancho again.
His Sancho. The man who saved him; the man he felt almost religiously indebted to, who he’d give up his life for again in a whispered breath if he so much as asked for it, the man who never seemed to leave his mind's eye even as he slept, even as he dreamt- that man. Leon S. Kennedy. Luis wasn’t sure if it was affection or desperation that drew him to the agent but whatever it was it had him in a terribly romantic chokehold that shook him when he got too deep into his quixotic fantasies.
Luis so, so desperately wanted to chase his dreams of pursuing Leon just as he had all his others, but… he knew better than that. Chasing his dreams was how he ended up in Umbrella and subsequently Los Iluminados, after all. Dreams were for silly boys with silly tongues who didn’t know when not to speak. ‘I love you’ wasn’t ever going to be something Luis would tell Leon and he could sleep at night knowing it was for the better.
What he couldn’t sleep through however was Leon’s goddamn coughing at night.
He told Luis that he’d already been to the doctors, and he told him time and time again that the government did a well and proper clean-down of him and his body the second he landed on American soil, yet somehow, he was still as sick as a dog. Puffy-eyed and red-cheeked, Leon had slept almost the entire day with the fan blasting cold air straight onto his face, only waking up to have his routine sneezing and coughing fit into his blankets. Luis tried to warn him about the cool air but, again, emotional fortitude of a puppy over here- if Leon wanted something unhealthy who was Luis to stop him. (Lord knows he and his cigarettes themselves were hypocrites).
Maybe it was that deep-seeded guilt that seemed to follow him like a shadow, or maybe it was just the discomfort he felt seeing somebody so strong be knocked down by what was essentially a very, very intense flu- his body was working hard to flush the toxins from the Plagas that was inside of him after all- that made Luis so determined to take care of him. His heart ached every time he’d see the way Leon would stumble a little to his bed, or how his words were slurred when he spoke, and Luis wished more than anything he could just… pick up and cradle all that gross sickness into a ball and use his body as a vessel in his stead.
He didn’t like seeing Leon sick, but at the very least, it was nice to take care of him. He felt actually useful for once, even if it was only for something small.
Luis was almost asleep on the couch when he heard it. A shitty bootleg musical was playing faintly on the TV, casting a soft, blue glow on the white walls of the empty apartment room- no other lights were turned on, but the screen made for a terrible light source. Luis’ head spun when he sat up in his seat; rubbing his eyes and looking around to blinking blearily at the quiet, empty lounge room. He tried to wake himself up quicker, to see if he’d dreamt someone calling out to him, and he almost considered falling back asleep right then and there before he heard it again;
The faintest sound of someone calling his name from another room. Leon was calling his name from another room. His room.
That confirmation was enough to snap Luis back to reality; he was wide awake by the time he’d managed to grab his cane and stumble to his feet, not even bothering to turn the tv off as he did. Concern grew in his head quicker than his feet let him carry him, and it didn’t help that Leon’s voice seemed to be getting more distressed- was he hurt? Did he fall?? Was he having trouble breathing??? All questions that Luis would have killed to know the answer to as he made his way to the bedroom, one hand pressing against the wall for support. The tack tack of his cane hitting the wooden floor wasn’t doing much to calm his racing mind at all.
But Luis’ answer came quicker than he’d expected in Leon standing in the middle of the hallway; his body wrapped up tight in a thick, weighted blanket like he’d been swaddled like a baby. It would’ve been far more amusing to Luis if the blonde's face wasn’t scrunched up in confusion and… fear?? Concern, at the very least, but there was something else there- something that Luis had never seen on such a stoic man, and it only made his heart hammer against his chest louder.
He looked lost. Confused. His eyebags and nose were red and his hair stuck up in every-which direction, but most importantly, he didn’t look 100% all ‘there’. Hell, he looked damn near ready to cry.
“Leon…?” Luis’ voice came out quieter than he’d meant for it to, cracking a little as he took another step closer. “What’re you-“
“Luis,”
Leon practically gasped his words out. It looked as though he could barely even process that the man was right in front of him. “Where- what-“
“Hey hey hey, cálmate, Leon, ssshh…”
Luis acted purely off of instinct when he grabbed Leon by the shoulder with his free hand. “It’s just me-“
Luis let out a yelp of surprise when Leon suddenly pushed him away- certainly not as hard as he could have but it still gave the man a fright. He stumbled back on his feet, regaining his footing with his cane before giving Leon a closer look;
He was blinking now. Big blinks that were accompanied by the occasional shake of the head. Luis had picked up on that little quirk of his back in the mines, though down there, he usually did it when he’d missed one too many shots and was trying to get his head back in the game. Was he trying to do the same now?? Why would he be-
Oooooooohhh. Leon had been sleepwalking.
Luis wanted to slap himself when he realised, but it was far too late now. Leon was staring at him with those big blue eyes of his like a deer caught in headlights and his mouth opening and closing, like he was trying to get the words out, but couldn’t. Luis took the initiative to make the first move, stepping closer again to place a much more cautious hand on his shoulder once more.
“Hey, Leon… still with me, bud?”
Luis felt a little bit like he was talking to a scared dog, sure, but his overly soft and babying voice seemed to work on the USAmerican Government Agent when his breathing evened out and his pupils dilated back from being blown-out to focused on Luis’ face in the darkness. His eyebrows were scrunched a little, like he was struggling to make out the man in front of him, but at least he was no longer panicking- calm enough for Luis to rub his shoulders up and down as he spoke.
“Gave yourself a bit of a fright there, ey, cowboy?” Luis chuckled, his voice cracked and a little dry from exhaustion but it was nothing compared to the drained expression on Leon’s face. It broke Luis’ heart in two, and there was little else he could do with the silence that hung between them than crack a joke to break it. “First time sleepwalking?”
“No,” Leon answered, swallowing thickly and gulping air like a fish out of water. “Just- never gets easier ‘s all..”
Luis opens his mouth to speak but decides against it with a small hum. ‘Never gets easier’ wasn’t exactly reassuring for him to hear, but nevertheless, he didn’t wish to press Leon for answers while he was half-asleep and weak from exhaustion. And, not to mention, still horribly sick.
He watched for a moment as Leon blinked the sleep out of his eyes, flicking away his fringe that’d been soaked with sweat from his body trying to regulate his temperature all evening. His mouth was slightly agape, nose too blocked to take full breaths, and his chest still rattled a little every time he inhaled. All that combined with a sudden new habit of sleepwalking had a fresh wave of concern and anxiety clutching Luis’ chest in its claws and refusing to let go. His heart practically ached with this downright overwhelming urge to protect Leon- an ache he hadn’t felt since all the way back in the mines- and he did his best to stomp it out.
Leon was his roommate, not a lover, after all. He was a grown man and also fully medically protected by the US Government. He’d be fine.
Hopefully.
Luis curled his lips up into an awkward smile, praying Leon couldn’t see just how forced it was through the darkness, but he had a feeling he could even in while so sick. Ever the perceptive man, Agent Kennedy was. “Well, I certainly can’t send you to bed like this! Not in this state, no”
“Whuddya mean?” Leon sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Case and point.
“I mean, when was the last time you ate, my dear Sancho?” Luis held out his hands to his sides, cocking his head and laying his accent on thick in an attempt to lull Leon into taking care of himself for once with his natural charm. “Like iron to a dragon, a full belly keeps the nightmares at bay, don’t you know?”
“‘S that an actual saying or did you just make that up?”
Luis’ smile grew. “Whatever helps you sleep at night”
A chuckle escaped Leon’s lips at his words, but the noise Luis hated to admit he loved oh-so dearly very quickly turned ragged and uneven until Leon found himself in yet another coughing fit; doubled over and clutching his chest with a grimace. Luis stepped forward entirely on instinct to give Leon a body to lean on, but his shoulders were met with shaky hands patting them in reassurance.
“‘M OK,” Leon wheezed out, as if he could read Luis’ mind through the darkness. Hell, he probably could, sometimes his anxiety felt so loud in his head. “I think you’re right. I jus’ need more sleep…”
“At least let me get you some food first,” Luis didn’t mean to sound desperate, but it slipped into his voice anyways. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Leon finish a decent meal- and that scared him. “You need your strength to recover-“
“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll eat something.”
Leon’s voice was final, yet soft. Tired in a defeatist way that didn’t spark much hope in Luis’ chest. But he agreed to eat, and that was better than nothing- he’d heal up just fine as long as Luis was around, whether his body wanted to or not.
Luis nodded curtly at Leon’s words, watching intently as the blonde wrapped his blankets up tighter around him and waddled off back to his room. A faint, yellowy glow spilt from the open crack of Leon’s door that made Luis wonder whether he’d turned his bedside lamp on whilst he sleepwalked or if he slept with it on at night regularly. Luis didn’t have time to dwell on that thought, though, as he hurriedly made his way past the living room and into the kitchen to make something for Leon to eat as quickly as he could. A fast, messy meal cooked with only the glow of the television screen to guide him.
Luis rummaged around his cupboards (or, more accurately, Leon’s cupboards) for something he could haphazardly throw together that still had an ounce of nutrients in it- trying and failing to stay quiet as he did- only for his hands to bump into a box of two-minute chicken noodle soup he’d bought at the store just a couple days ago. Perfect!!
It was no Gordon Ramsy special, sure, and the smell of the chicken flavouring had Luis reeling back to his time in uni where this was all he ate during his finals- but speaking from experience, it was far better than nothing. A splash of soy sauce and some pre-boiled eggs he kept in the fridge to add some flavour and two minutes later, a half decent meal was finished for Leon.
He cupped the bowl with a spare hand towel to keep it from burning his skin as he gingerly made his way back to Leon’s room, a little overly careful not to drop it. The closer he got to his room, the louder he could hear Leon’s heavy breathing even from so far away. That did little to ease Luis’ worries as he cracked open the door with his shoulder, letting his eyes adjust to the light from Leon’s bedside lamp for a moment before shutting the door behind him with his heel.
Luis gave Leon a smile, but it faltered ever so slightly when he saw the absolute state the poor man was in.
Leon was curled up beneath three layers of blankets on his side, his fan now set to a low hum, and his hands were tucked uncomfortably beneath his chin still grasping at the sheets below him. His head barely poked up from underneath his blankets yet his expression was clear; knitted eyebrows and fluttery eyelashes made for an awful pair combined with the sweat that coated his forehead and nose. It was like his body couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be hot or cold, and his reddened cheeks weren’t helping that dilemma.
Luis shook his head and swallowed thickly as he took a few slow, calculated steps into the room- uncomfortable by just how… familiar Leon’s sickness was beginning to look to him.
It wasn't uncommon for victims of the Plagas to start getting fevers or sweat profusely- but Luis had chalked it up to the panic and adrenaline racing through their bodies. And, again- he knew this was just Leon’s’ bodies’ way of flushing out an invasive parasite- but that still didn't ease his deep-seeded worries. And his guilt. Force of habit was a terrible thing.
Luis approached his bedside with yet another forced smile, setting the bowl of noodles down onto the bedside table, this time a little less confident than before. He curled up to his bedside and crossed his legs comfortably on the floor, resting his cane beside him.
Without thinking, Luis brought a hand up to brush away a strand of blonde hair that’d gotten stuck to his forehead, and immediately pulled it back when he realised just how intimate that was to do.
The feeling of his calloused fingertips brushing against Leon’s warm, wet skin was enough to send his heart into an inappropriately timed race. But it only got worse when Leon reached a hand out for Luis’, his eyes still closed as he spoke.
“Luis,”
Leon’s voice came out wheezy and exasperated. He opens his eyes and they look terribly bloodshot, exaggerated by just how blue they were. Had they always been so blue? Maybe Luis was finally losing it.
But the way Leon was looking at him right now- with these big, tired eyes and an expression like the man in front of him could hang the moon for him if he so much as asked for it- oh, Luis was so fucked. So so so fucked. He knew Leon was just sick and delirious but by god if he’d never felt such an intense urge to lean over and kiss another man right then and there.
He let him take his hand with a smile. Breath hitching when Leon brought his fingers back up to his forehead, eyes fluttering back shut like it was the relief he’d been so badly craving.
“Can you keep doin’ that?” Leon wheezed out, and Luis almost felt dizzy with how fast his heart was racing. “Feels nice…”
“A-ah, yes, of course, Sancho” the words stumbled out of Luis’ mouth before he could process them and his hand was already brushing through Leon’s wettened locks. He would’ve relished in the intimate moment more if the sweat against his hand wasn’t making him slightly uncomfortable. He didn’t quite know how far back Leon wanted him to card his fingers, but the blonde didn’t complain, so Luis didn’t mind.
“You should really be eating, you know,” Luis teased gently, the task he came here to do never leaving his mind. “Your noodles are going cold.”
“Hmmmph.”
Once again, Luis would’ve laughed at Leon’s indignant sigh if he weren’t so concerned.
He gave up trying with a small sigh and covered the bowl with the tea towel he’d used to bring it in, hoping it’d catch some of the heat and keep it warm for Leon to eat later. Luis hated to admit it- but he was exhausted, too. The stress of staying up so late past his bedtime was starting to take a toll on his body, and he hadn’t even noticed that his head had begun to rest itself beside Leon’s on the bed until he opened his eyes to find their proximity had gotten much closer than he remembered. He hadn’t even remembered closing his eyes in the first place, let alone taking a micro nap. Beside Leon.
It was… painfully intimate. His roommate’s mouth still hung slightly agape just enough to show off his slightly crooked teeth, and his blonde eyelashes fluttered against his cheek, casting shadows across his freckled skin.
Luis hadn’t even noticed he had freckles until winter turned to summer, and maybe he’d gotten disillusioned to Valdelobos’ cloudy weather after so long, but Leon looked damn good in the sun. He looked good in anything, anywhere- especially with his face cupped between his hands, Luis couldn’t help but think.
His palms had slipped from Leon’s hair to his cheek unintentionally between his bouts of short sleep but he found himself too tired to complain. He was too tired to scold himself for thinking of Leon in such a soft, quietly intimate way.
Maybe, just for tonight, Luis could let himself dream again.
The bowl of soup had been long forgotten. The bedside lamp was still on, but clearly, neither of them cared. Luis found himself drifting in and out of sleep, not wanting to let Leon out of his sight for even a moment but his body screamed for rest. He just about succumb to its wishes, when suddenly, a very, very quiet voice spoke up from beneath the blankets;
“So… What are we?”
Luis froze. Did he hear that right??
He opened his eyes to get a better look at Leon, to see if anything drastic had changed. And of course, there was nothing. His eyes were still closed and his breathing was still even, yet rattly. Luis swallowed, praying he’d misheard the man.
“What do you mean? We’re roommates, no?”
“Yeah, but…” Leon’s words were slurred with sleep and the pillow pressed up against the side of his face. It was clear he wasn’t fully awake. “Roommates don’t.. do this kinda shit. ‘S more like the kind of things friends do. Or…”
Leon trailed off. But Luis knew exactly what he was talking about. He let out a small hum and nodded. “You’re right, Sancho. We’ve been through far too much together to call each other something as simple as just roommates.”
He was speaking to himself more than he was to Leon, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d even remember it in the morning, so it made little difference, really.
“I don’t know what that makes us, though. I don’t know what friends would do in this scenario. I feel as though friends should know things like each other’s favourite colour, or their childhood pet,” Luis began to ramble, his eyes staring off past Leon into nothing. “And I know none of these things about you. Yet, I’ve seen you at your worst, and you’ve seen me at mine. You-“ his voice choked up “you saved me when I almost died. And I’m taking care of you now that you’ve fallen ill. Just like Sancho and Quixote, no? That must count for something, surely.”
Luis’s hypothetical question fell on silent walls. He paused, expecting Leon to say something- anything, even just a hum would suffice- but nothing came. His eyes flitted down to see that Leon was fast asleep, dead to the world. He huffed a laugh beneath his breath. He’d always joked that Luis’ flowery words would lull him to sleep someday.
Not that Luis minded, of course. It kept his mind off of the question. What were they?
He gave Leon’s hair one last brush with his fingers and fought off the urge to kiss his warm forehead goodnight. He didn’t have the strength to get up and leave, despite knowing how sore he’d be in the morning. He was too tired to care.
Luis could answer Leon’s question another day. For now, he had to be his valiant caballero, and protect him from any nightmares that may haunt him as he slept. Leon needed his strength to recover, after all. Luis would make sure of it.