Work Text:
It was funny, this whole 'being retired' shtick. If you could even call it that. You had no active choice in your retirement. It was always a very real possibility for you, of course. Your work was notoriously perilous. If anything, you got it leagues better than many others. You were alive. Relatively in tact.
And now you had an abundance of free time and government-provided funds as appreciation for your loyal years of service, which enabled you to live out a comfortable life free of any past chaos and peril.
And yet, it was miserable. You never had this much free time on your hands before. You hadn't even realized how much of your life your job has consumed until you lost it.
Your social life? All of your good buddies were your coworkers you pretty much lost contact with now. Well. Vaguely speaking. You were well aware of the fact that a DSO operative's schedule was notoriously hectic, leaving very little room for developing genuine relationships outside of the job. But occasional phone calls and email exchanges only did so much for your need for some proper socialization.
Your hobbies? You didn't really have any. Worse yet, because you were technically still in the process of recovery following your head injury, it was not possible for you to perform your usual workout routine to its fullest extent. Scheduled physical therapy sessions only did so much to quell your ever-growing boredom.
Your money? While it might have sounded pretentious to say the least, you didn't have a clue what to even spend it on. Whenever you bought pricey trinkets merely to kill time, there wasn't much delight in them, and the initial rush of buying something new was always painfully short-lived. Plus, you didn't really want to become that stereotypical materialistic retiree that's too busy hoarding the latest expensive knick-knacks to do anything valuable with their time and money.
You were experiencing abrupt retirement syndrome in your thirties, and that realization sucked major ass.
Thankfully, in times of need, there are always people who would nudge you in the right direction if you just reach out for help, and you had Leon to thank for that. As you two would occasionally share a drink or two, he'd make a passing joke about you getting a part-time job to kill time. You merely figured it was only right to treat him since you were stuck in your house for majority of your time now anyways, and that included always having a collection of his favorite beverages stocked up. Of course, it wasn't anything over the top, but it was a convenient pretext to invite him over whenever he was actually free, which was not often.
And with how lonely you were, you'd take any chance you got.
The quip about you being his personal bartender had you thinking, though. You did enjoy mixing drinks. It provided an activity for your hands and diverted your thoughts to something more mundane instead of the existential dread of what you were meant to do now. And you did enjoy talking to people, even about the most unremarkable of things. You never thought about taking up a job when you were supposed to be retired, but the prospect grew more and more alluring with time.
Leon was even gracious enough to leave in a good word for you at his favorite bar of choice. One that was quite helpful for a grown adult like yourself who was looking for a service job with no prior experience. Well, at least you could confidently say you could handle the rowdy drunks just fine. You might not be in service anymore, but that doesn't mean your reflexes that you worked so hard for went away completely. You could keep yourself and other guests safe easy as pie.
So, that is how your miserable retirement gradually transformed into a busy but somewhat pleasurable routine. Your bartending job was no picture-perfect fairytale you'd sing any songs about, of course. As with any service job, there were cocky jerks, creepy individuals, and lots and lots of cleaning to do. But you also found yourself genuinely enjoying crafting drinks, conversing with guests and even making a couple of new friends who now became your regulars.
And then, of course, there was Leon. You were now working at his favorite bar, after all, so it's only natural you got to see him a bit more often than you usually would. It served as a pleasant reminder that the two of you continue to be excellent friends, despite the fact that you did not get to see each other as frequently. It wouldn't replace the incomparable connection you naturally form with someone who's your partner on the field, but... It was enough to remind you that you weren't forgotten. Perhaps that's why your chest felt lighter whenever he'd enter and smile at you that very special way that was reserved only for his favorite bartender.
You've grown to like that new title of yours very much.
As weeks inevitably turned into months, he even memorized your schedule, conveniently showing up on your shifts only. Anyway, he claimed to be a 'one-bartender type of man'. You certainly didn't mind one bit. It was sweet. Even if he'd end up sitting there until the end of your shift like some loyal watchdog waiting for his owner. You didn't exactly blame your manager for thinking he was your partner in more than past work alone. An assumption that Leon conveniently didn't bother to correct at first, if only just to fuck with you.
However, today was an exception even for him.
A 24 hour bar meant slow morning hours. It was a time when all the late-night drinkers have long staggered out, but the tired afternoon guests hadn't shown up yet. A perfect window of time for some deep cleaning, restocking and taking out trash with no distractions on your hands. Better yet, if you were really efficient with your tasks, you could use this time to relax and enjoy some media, whether that's a movie, music, or an audiobook. Or maybe even taking a quick power nap. Morning visitors were so incredibly rare that it was a harmless risk you were more than willing to take.
The morning hours today were no exception to that rule. You said your goodbyes to your night shift coworker as they sleepily stumbled out for some much needed eight hours of sleep, scrubbed the entire bar squeaky clean 'till it glistened, and happily enjoyed your few precious hours of peace before the afternoon rush arrived. A sunny summer morning kept your energy levels higher than usual, so you cheerfully indulged in some impromptu clunky dancing with a mop as your trusty partner. All the joys of life.
That is, until your ears perceived the unmistakable sound of the door opening and a pair boots halting in the threshold.
Oh, God, did your manager decide to pay you a very inconveniently-timed visit? But when you turned back, you noticed that the person who had come to see you was even more startling. Staring back at you was the stubbled chiseled face of an old friend you haven't seen in a while. For the first time in years, the exhilarating flutter of excitement in your chest was followed by an intolerable burn in your cheeks.
His grin certainly didn't help your case. He did, in fact, see. Curse your luck.
In response to the eminent embarrassment, you groaned and covered your hot face with your hands. God, you wanted to die. And it was supposed to be a lighthearted way to start the day, too.
"...Jesus Christ, what are you even doing here, I just opened," you choked out, more of a whine than a genuine complaint. You didn't expect anyone to see you like this, much less him.
But Leon merely chuckled good-naturedly, pushing himself off of the door he was leaning against and walking over to the shiny, freshly cleaned bar. He playfully whistled you up as he went by, not at all helping with your current state of mortification.
With a cocky little smirk on his face that screamed trouble, he sat himself on one of the barstools, crossing one leg over the other while resting his arm on the counter like he owned the place. You wished you had his confidence.
"Just wanted to see if my favourite bartender was working," he stated plainly, still smirking away at you in a way that left little to imagination. He wasn't at all trying to hide his intentions of teasing you into oblivion over this. Not that you should have expected anything less from him, granted. Leon leaned forward and attempted to probe at your forehead, snorting as you dashed to the side, avoiding his fingers. "...Didn't expect to get a show too, though. Nice addition to the program, by the way."
Your face would have burned much hotter by now if it were humanely possible. You weren't sure how much of it was pure embarrassment on your part and how much of it was frustration at his blatant baiting. You couldn't even blame him for it, either. You'd be a huge hypocrite to say you wouldn't have jumped at the opportunity to watch him sputter and flush in the face if you switched places.
It was simply unfair that you were the one in that situation right now.
"Stop it, you didn't even see all that much."
He shrugged.
"I saw enough. You don't take tips for that, do you?"
With your own arms now crossed over your chest, you huffed, turning away from him: "Shut up."
But the genuine smile that was slowly spreading over your lips was far too obvious to conceal. Not that you tried very hard to do so. Despite the dreadful embarrassment you were feeling, you were overjoyed to see him; you always were. It happened more and more rarely now since your lives were quite different, and that was a new concept in and of itself.
"Why?" He asked, leaning closer to you again and poking at your arm this time around. You let him. "It was a pretty great show. I think you should take tips. I'd pay top dollar for that."
"Yeah, well, unfortunately for you, I can survive without your tips just fine," you retorted with a smile. You missed him. And you missed him poking fun at you like this just as much.
You weren't about to go and admit that to him outloud, though. He'd never let you live that down.
"Oh come on," he teased as he watched you keep your arms firmly crossed. "Don't be like that. You know I love messing with you."
"-A 'hello' before the bullying would be nice, is all."
He reached out once more to poke at your flushed cheek, this time laughing aloud as you successfully ducked under his hand. Your coordination might have been worse for wear now compared to how sharp it used to be before, but you could still give him a run for his money. Well. Figuratively speaking.
"C'mon, just give me a little smile. I haven't seen you in almost a month. I think I deserved that much, at least."
With a resolute exhale, you raised your hands skyward in surrender. Though, once more, the smile on your lips conveyed more than any agitated gesture ever could. And you didn't try very hard to hide it.
"Alright, alright, fine. Just... easy with the teasing. I'm still very much embarrassed and want to die."
You figured brutal honesty was the way to go. In any case, you were delighted to see him again. You weren't going to lie to him about that.
He smiled even bigger as he finally leaned back in his stool, crossing one leg over the other. While he was very much loving your reactions, he's decided against any more taunting for now. He was being as graceful as ever, easing up so as not to put too much pressure on you.
For now, anyway.
"Don't die. Then who am I going to mess with?" He joked, running a hand through his hair in a way that looked almost too intentional if you didn’t know any better. You didn't let yourself linger on that thought for long, though. After finishing the overly meticulous process of arranging his bangs in place, he glanced at your face, taking in everything that has changed about it in his time away. Much unbeknownst to you, he, too didn't even realize how much he missed you. How much he missed this. "...I've really missed you these last few weeks."
Your expression eased at the change of topic.
...Ah, you forgot how open he could be sometimes. It was something you appreciated about him, the way he wasn't afraid to just speak up on whatever he felt, never beating around the bush, for better and for worse alike. But at the moment, it was unquestionably for the better. You smiled: "Hey, that makes two of us."
His own expression softened somewhat from the previous look of deviousness as he stared back into your eyes silently for a brief moment that lasted just a tad longer than necessary. You did your best to ignore the familiar little flutter in your chest.
"How have you been?" He asked, tilting his head a little at the sudden change of tone.
You'd undoubtedly much rather discuss this than endure any further embarrassment.
"Eh, same old," you shrugged nonchalantly, busying yourself with restocking some napkins. You were still officially working, after all. Even though the bar was empty, as it usually was in the mornings. "-I'm afraid there's not nearly as many fun stories to tell you with a job like this compared to my old one. Unless you enjoy listening to some crumbling marriage of a drunk office clerk."
Leon leaned back against the counter, watching you go about your day from across the bar.
"I enjoy listening to anything you have to tell me," he stated genuinely, his eyes never leaving you. He was being honest. He loved hearing all kinds of stories from you, even if they were boring. If given the chance, he would gladly listen to you talk all day. He shifted his attention to the bar then, scanning his eyes over the various bottles of alcohol lining up the shelves while you stocked up. His eyes fell on something specific, and a tiny smirk tugged at his lips. "...Hey, you ever tried Jack Daniel's straight from the bottle?"
You gave him a disbelieving glance over your shoulder.
"I am not giving you a whole-ass bottle to drink from, Leon. It might be empty in here but I'm still working, y'know," you sighed, coming back up to the bar, patting the surface. "...That'll be $13."
"You're such a killjoy," Leon teased, beginning to dig his hand into the pocket of his jacket. He took out a few banknotes and placed a $50 bill the counter, leaning on its side with a look that invited no rebuttals. "Keep the change."
"That's...," you trailed off, clearly taken aback. You always were. Despite it being a general occurrence with him, it never became easier to accept his money like this. He had a good knack of shutting you up, for sure.
The bill was quite generous, and you blinked sheepishly at him in a silent question. Leon treated his money with generosity, you knew that well by now. It did feel nice, and you knew he could afford it just fine. This was nothing to him. The income of a federal agent is one of the few things you did miss about your previous job. Still, your nature made it somewhat awkward to accept big handouts like this, especially so from a good friend.
Leon's smile only got bigger as he watched you fumble. He was aware that he was being a rich ass just for the sake of it, and that the tip was excessive, especially considering that you didn't even need tips, technically speaking. Still, he couldn't quit enjoying your surprised reactions to his occasional brag.
"-Don't say I don't spoil you," he stated smugly, folding his arms and raising his brow. A wordless reassurance for you to accept it.
So, you persisted through your apprehension, smiling slightly as you pocketed the bill and nodded in appreciation. He wouldn't let you give it back, anyways. You tried that before.
"Wasn't planning to," you said, turning around to retrieve the glass and prepare his rightful pour of whiskey.
He always made sure to spoil you whenever he could, and once you retired, his affection for you seemingly just grew stronger. He had a generous heart and was particularly generous to those he valued. Despite the embarrassment it brought, it was comforting to know he cared.
He rested his arm on the edge of the bar, leaning his weight on it as he watched you pull out the bottle of Jack Daniel's he had eyed earlier.
"...You're doing better these days at least. Haven't seen you this lively in a while. 'S nice to see you finding your groove," he commented casually, still watching you. The ice clinked against the glass as you filled a rocks glass with ice cubes, his gaze traversing your figure thoughtfully, a consistent behavior throughout this meeting. The bar was still very much empty, nothing but some 90's grunge song playing in the background, one that you adorably tapped your foot to. He hid his endeared smile at the observation with a palm of his hand as he rested his chin on it. "Not a lot of people out for drinks this early, huh?"
You hummed as you poured his whiskey into the iced glass.
"Well, people don't usually come out to bars at nine in the morning." You made an emphasis on those last words, shooting him a pointed look over your shoulder. Of course, it was lighthearted. "-I don't usually get any customers on my morning shifts until late in the afternoon at least. And even then, most are just here for lunch, not a glass of whiskey."
You then slid his glass over to him without any trouble. This laid-back back-and-forth exchange between you two was something you always enjoyed and missed tremendously. It was nice having someone to match your sass, and knowing that was the norm.
Leon reached for the glass, raising it to his lips. He took a sip of his whiskey, savouring the subtly sweet taste on his palate as the liquid burned his throat.
"Maybe I just wanted to see you when you're alone," he stated casually, that same old smirk still on his lips. He drank another sip of the whiskey, taking simple pleasure in the smooth flavor of the strong alcohol that he had been accustomed to. It was already heating up his body just slightly as it settled in his stomach, the anticipation of a familiar pleasant buzz clear on his mind. He wasn't going to be stopping on a single glass, of course. A strong drinker, he could handle his whiskey just fine, and he needed this after a hard assignment like his last one.
With a gentle clink, he set the glass back on the counter. "...Have a drink with me."
You raised your brows, just blinking back at him briefly. Well, that was straightforward.
"I'm not drinking on the job," you finally retorted, feeling kind of incredulous that he even asked you such a thing. "That's very much not allowed. If you didn’t know. Which I think you do know."
Granted, he knew your answer was going to be 'no,' but it was worth trying.
"C'mon...," he coaxed with a light whine to his voice, resting his elbow against the counter as he leaned against the side. Was he giving you puppy eyes? "No one's even here. Just one drink."
"-No."
Undeterred, he was still smirking slyly up at you, lifting his own brows as he sought to persuade you one way or another. Leon could tell you were at least considering it by your expression alone, and his gaze was growing even smugger by the second. He could convince you with just the right push, he was sure of it.
"Well it's a slow morning, right? Nothing going on. Even if someone comes in and sees, I'll take care of them," he reasoned, still watching you.
You were starting to believe him. He could tell.
You let out a long sigh and leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. You were well aware of what he was doing. It wasn't entirely surprising, but nevertheless frustrating. In a very specific, attractive way that only Leon could pull off.
"...You know, if you wanted us to grab a drink together, there are way better ways to do that than trying to get me drunk on the job," you deadpanned.
He was, of course, somewhat correct. Mornings were always slow, and it's not like you would get drunk with a single fruity cocktail or something. But nonetheless. It wasn't quite right either.
"Why? Where's the fun in waiting until later?" He asked nonchalantly, his smirk only growing at the opportunity he had. He leaned slightly farther over the bar as he talked: "I like to cut corners sometimes, especially when I get to spend time with you."
You blinked as you watched him practically drape himself over the bar top. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was flirting. You would think the same for any other man. Leon was a longstanding friend, however. The rules with him were different. "...I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or a threat."
"Oh come on..." he coaxed once more, tilting his head to the side as he grinned. You couldn't help but compare him to a very spoiled tomcat when he was like this. Utterly shameless and dangerously adorable. Ugh, you were falling for it, weren't you? "One little drink. It won't hurt... And I'm paying."
Alright, now he was becoming downright ridiculous. You weren't sure if you were supposed to feel honored or annoyed at this shameless display of his. Still, the topic of money was brought up before you could dwell on that thought too much.
"Don't-" The only thing you could do was groan aa you helplessly watched him place a hundred dollar bill on the bartop like his ultimate trump card. Expected. But your frustration with him persisted. "Okay, fine! Just- Don't shower me with any more bills. Please."
You slipped the bill into your pocket with a resolute sigh. Since your coworkers need it far more than you do, you might just give it to one of them later.
Well, you only hoped that this whole idea would not end badly.
Hopefully.
Leon, on the other hand, looked pleased as punch. He arose from the counter, stretching his arms out over his head. He endured a long ass flight back to Washington. The sound of his joints cracking and popping from the stretch was soothing to his own ears, as he groaned out in relief. His back was in pain and tense from sitting in that god awful helicopter seat. All he needed right now was a drink and some time to relax with his friend. And as luck would have it, he got both right in front of him.
As he finished his stretch, he glanced back at you, expected.
"What're you gonna have, then?" He inquired, raising a brow. "A margarita or somethin'?"
With a satisfied sigh, Leon finished his second glass of whiskey and put the empty glass back on the bar with a distinct clink. Damn, he was definitely beginning to feel the effects of it now. In a good way, of course. He was still far from being drunk, but he was tipsy. Which was the intent. His head felt lighter than it had a few minutes before, and he began to feel slightly buzzed. He gave you another passing glance, his eyes running over your body once more as you filled up his glass. About one third of the way, he noticed. As always, you were looking out for him without him asking. The effect of the whiskey was making his mind a little more unfiltered, though.
"-Y'know, I was thinking..." he spoke with a bit more huskiness in his voice this time around, his eyes staying fixed on you. As he leaned on the bar, he shifted in his seat, turning his body slightly towards you. "You ever get with any of the customers here?"
You were caught aback by his question, staring blankly at him for a moment or two. Who even asks that at all? With a small huff, you swirled about the remains of your drink and shook your head when you finally came to from your momentary stupor. With a light cocktail of choice, you were able to keep your wits about you. Which... you wouldn't say for Leon, but, hey, that's what he came here for. He deserved to relax and be a little stupid.
"Of course not." You gave him an incredulous look. "That would be incredibly unprofessional."
...Although you might have been treating your bartering gig with the same level of seriousness you did your employment back at the DSO. In bartering, professionalism might not be a primary need at all. But old habits can be hard to break.
Even though it was a pain in the ass at times, that's what Leon found so admirable about you. Much like Hunnigan, you were a steady, reassuring presence at his side, not at all hesitant to confront him on his bullshit when necessary. But you were also softer than Hunnigan. Just enough for him to anticipate some warm consolation from you following the deserved scolding.
"Yeah, I expected that," he agreed, still smirking at you. "You're too goody-two-shoes to woo complete strangers."
"-It's called being safe, dumbass!" You argued lightheartedly, feeling your face heat up against your better judgement. You were far too old to feel embarrassment over such a trivial matter. Were it anyone else sitting in front of you, you wouldn't have even batted an eye. But, sadly for you, Leon was always a unique case.
And with him, you'd turn into a bumbling fool on any day of the week.
"But, y'know, it's not like you get any action anyway."
He was kind of pushing it at this point, but his tongue was becoming a bit too loose for you both.
And as you sucked in a breath, your face flushed. You wanted to say that it was because you were embarrassed. But the truth is... it was because he was right.
So that's the reason you just glared daggers at him instead.
"Well- Not like I want to, anyways."
That wasn't necessarily true, but you were feeling petty.
"Yeah? You sure about that?" He teased, leaning in closer to you again. "And hey, there's no judgement. I know how it feels to be single for too long."
You blinked. Now where did that one even come from?
"I did not sign up to talk about my love-life today, Leon."
"You're telling me you've never once looked at some mysterious stranger in this bar and thought-" He cut himself off with an exaggerated shrug and a smirk that screamed 'I know better'. He leaned back against the counter, taking another slow, deliberate sip of whiskey before adding: "C'mon. It's me you're talking to."
Now that got you sputtering. Quite literally. You choked on your cocktail and coughed to expell what went down the wrong pipe: "-As a matter of fact, no. I haven't. Believe it or not, when I'm at work, I think about work. Not anything else. Or anybody. For that matter."
His voice dropped to something more intimate now, playful but laced with an honesty that made your stomach flip in dangerous ways: "Hey, like I said, there's no shame here. We both know how long it's been since either of us got it on properly."
"-Okay, what kind of conversation is this exactly?" You muttered, your words coming out more hurried than you would've liked. You looked off from him with a huff. Looking into his eyes right now sent your heart into a frenzy. "If you're looking for that kind of company you should come back later tonight. Plenty of beautiful guests for you to choose from."
You felt more nervous than you'd care to admit as you heard him put his glass down with another resounding clink. What was up with you today?
"Oh, I'm well aware of the options," he drawled, fingers tapping idly against the counter. "But see, here’s the thing..."
Oh, God, you were not going to survive this-
"-Please don't say something weird now, I don't think my brain can take it," you half-whined lightheartedly, figuring to play this off as some very dubious banter between you. Leon had a habit of exaggerating his charms, after all.
It's just that you weren't at all used to being the target of said charms. Observing them from afar is one thing, but this? This was new.
"...I'm not looking for them." The words lingered between you for a moment, playful yet imbued with a dangerous sincerity to them. Then he smiled, throwing back the last drops of his whiskey as if it was all just a very obvious joke you weren't aware of. "Relax. Just giving you shit."
That got you looking back at him again, very much baffled.
"I- Wh-"
He gently prodded your foot under the bar before pushing from his stool with another big exaggerated stretch. He knew you were watching him closely, like a deer in the headlights. He seemed to be enjoying your attention quite a bit.
"I'll get outta your hair before I corrupt you any further." You would've been offended if you weren't feeling as bamboozled as you were right now. Leon straightened up and suddenly appeared much closer to you, bracing one hand on the bar beside you. He had a subtle scent of gun oil and whiskey on him. That distinct musk of Leon that you'd recognize anywhere after years of working side by side. And one that made you feel oddly dizzy this time around. His smirk was simply lethal in this situation, sending your heart rate skyrocketing into oblivion. When you didn't move back nor protest, he continued: "Although... Just one last thing. Tell me..."
His free hand reached out slowly - a bit too slowly - to brush a stray piece of hair away from your line of vision before you could react. And just as soon, he pulled his hand back, his rough fingertips just about brushing your cheekbone, only for him to grin at your tiny stifled sound of surprise. "-Maybe you should get your eyesight checked? Or your hearing? Because I think you kinda missed the part where I was very clearly flirting with you all morning."
Your eyes went wide, your breath hitching in your throat. You weren't that unaware, of course, but you certainly didn't expect to have to deal with it head-on like this. This was Leon. Leon was flirty. It wasn't necessary for you to take it seriously.
At least, that is what you believed up until now.
"...Was I supposed to point it out?" You said, not exactly sure where this was going anymore.
"Yes," he stated bluntly, reaching out to gently tap your nose next. It was embarrassing how hard your heart raced in your chest because of such a silly act. "-You're supposed to point it out when a man is literally throwing himself at you, y'know. I'm kinda at my wits' end here."
You blinked again, baffled. Admittedly, that was quite forward. A little too forward, honestly. And seeming to pop out of nowhere. At least it felt like that.
This man was dead serious, holy shit.
In hindsight, this really shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did, but things are always a bit more complicated when there are muddy boundaries involved. And the boundaries between you and him were never perfectly clear, really. You just never really took the time to fully understand them, completely at peace with merely going along with whatever he was fine with. It just so happens that rules can change. You swallowed, your heart's frantic pitter-patter serving as a constant reminder that this interaction was completely real, against all odds. "Where are you going with this...?"
At this point, it was better to just ask upfront, to be sure of what all of this was truly about.
"Tell you what," he drawled, pulling back from you to give you space. Though, it didn't help with you accelerated heartbeat all that much at all. "Since you're clearly a bit dense in the whole romance arena, I'll make this easy for us both. You and I. A date. Whattya say?"
Sort of like a question. It was really more like a confident statement that he fully expected you to agree to. Through the years, this man had grown more than accustomed to the sting of rejection, and he could handle it just fine. You knew that well, and yet, being on the receiving end of his advances was still utterly mind-boggling to you.
You were used to getting such proposals, they kind of came with the job. But compared to someone you knew, it was very different. To what extent was his offer serious, exactly? Or was it something completely casual to not get all in your head about?
It felt daunting to admit it, but... You cared way more on where he stood than you probably should've.
"...Since when are you asking me out though?" You questioned, unable to hide the confused skepticism in your voice. "Is this just a hookup offer or..."
"Could be both." Following a nonchalant shrug, his expression grew more serious, holding your gaze firmly. "...Or could be me finally admitting I've wanted to do this for years."
Your breath hitched again, the underlying implications in his words sending both your heart and mind into an equal frenzy. But it was a good kind of frenzy. The kind that only Leon could bring.
He leaned forward once more and, despite his playful tone, gave your head a gentle pat that felt far more soothing than teasing. His thumb deliberately brushed the apple of your cheek as he pulled away, leaving you shivering and breathless.
"...Figure it out on our date, good?" Leon finally took a full, proper step back, not really bothering to hide how much he relished making you a completeb flustered mess, and pulled out his phone with a grin. A very, very giddy grin you've never really seen on him before. It looked almost boyish. A boyish, giddy grin he was wearing because of you. Somehow, that thought alone had you in shambles. It was hard to pay attention to what he was saying to you next: "-This Friday night. Wear something nice. The tab's on me. How does that sound?"
"I... Yeah, okay," you heard yourself muttering out breathlessly, finding no willpower to pester him with a hundred and one questions that were already brewing on the inside of your head. Although you were bewildered to say the least, you comprehended your feelings enough to know that you wanted this. Whatever 'this' even was. You wanted to figure it out and see it through.
Despite his seemingly confident demeanor, it didn't escape your attention the way his shoulders relaxed slightly at your agreement. It was almost cute. To see that he was kind of nervous about this in some capacity, too. As walked back toward the door, he put his phone back in his pocket and gave you one last little grin over his shoulder. For extra credit, he threw in a wink there as well. "Ditto. Oh, and also? Try not to overthink it. I just want you to have a good time. And if that includes me, well... That's just a very sweet cheery on top."
With that, he was gone - leaving behind only the fading scent of his presence and you standing there, staring at the door like it had personally offended you.
You had never been more confused by him before. And yet, you also felt as giddy as a teenager in love.
Guess retirement wasn't such a bad thing after all. Because it just managed to somehow snag you one hot date.