Work Text:
The small brick and mortar cafe wasn’t too busy; he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be or not. He noticed that the people inside seemed to come here fairly often. Every new person that walked in was known by name, some had their drinks almost already made before they even got to the register. Those who looked like this was their first time were greeted the same, the genuine smiles of the baristas was weird to see. It was nice, it was civil.
Leon sat on one of the outside seating areas, the faint cafe jazz playing on the speakers above him. The air was cold, the sun casting her rays to bring the day in a perfect balance. It was a strangely perfect day, but he tried not to think too hard about it. He hadn’t ordered yet, barely looked inside the cafe. A small business card seemed to burn a hole in his pocket, his posture as relaxed as it could be, but even that was pushing it. He didn’t have many casual outfits to choose from, ending up with a dark blue button-up he had rolled up the sleeves for, black joggers and black boots; comfortable but intentionally dressed just in case. The knife in his boot seemed like a betrayal to the atmosphere, the civilians, the children playing on the sidewalks, running past a man whose only known only how to kill. He hated fidgeting, actively scowling whenever he realized he was subconsciously drumming his fingers or bouncing his leg.
He was certain he was ruining the cozy atmosphere with his RBF. Why did he even come? It was a waste of time and-
“Leon!” A friendly baritone voice broke his attention. He turned, seeing the larger frame, the disgustingly comfortable, casual clothes. Leon stood, a quick smile, going for a handshake before Chris Redfield grabbed the hand, pulling him into a heavy, albeit secure, hug. Leon’s mind wasn’t sure what to do for a half second before he slowly hugged back, Chris pulling them apart with a casual smile, “Glad you could make it.”
Leon tried for a smile, “What else would I be doing? You seem like the busier man right now.” Chris made a face, “How would you know?” Now it was Leon’s turn to smile, shrugging coyly, “Dunno, just a hunch.” The larger man frowned, but it didn’t seem to hold any real malice. Chris just shook his head, opening the door for the man. Leon paused, stepping inside after a spell, looking around in the small nook of comfort, a pocket of joy that Leon didn’t try to walk in, didn’t try to daydream ‘what-ifs’.
The barista was nice, in that genuine sparkly nice that seemed insulting by how genuinely happy they were. Chris ordered a black coffee, a casual smile on his face before he looked at Leon. Leon swallowed the rock in his stomach before ordering a vanilla latte.
Chris paid before directing them to two armchair seats in the corner. Leon passed by a dozen hanging Monstera plants before he sat down, feeling the callouses of his fingers in his pockets. He turned to Chris, seeing the slight wrinkle around his eyes as he smiled. For such a big guy, the Redfield radiated complete and utter strength and care. Leon chuckled, “You fit right in here.”
Chris turned, he huffed a smile before leaning back in the soft chair, “Claire was the one who showed me this place, said she found it as a stall at a Farmer’s Market and fell in love. You should’ve seen the look on her face when she found out they finally had an actual store.” That garnered a genuine smile on his face.
Since their disagreement during the whole Penamstan issue with Jason, Leon feared he had broken one of his only true friendships with Claire. But then she invited him to the Terra Save event two months ago and everything seemed to fall back into a silent yet consistent camaraderie.
“-eon?” Leon blinked, eyes a bit owlish as he realized too late that Chris was trying to get his conversation.
“Yeah? Sorry I was thinking.” He hated the hesitance in his voice, but said nothing about it as he turned, hiding his eyes from Chris’ intuitive gaze.
“I apologize if this isn’t comfortable. I wasn’t sure what we could do that’d be normal.” Leon laughed, “Normal?” Chris knew the tone, the sarcasm in that voice, “You know what I mean. I still feel like I owe you for helping Claire back in ‘98, and she’s told me of how you’ve helped her with that ‘Jason’ and ‘Wilson’ incident in ‘06.” Leon knew he never really was good handling praise. He rolled his shoulders, trying to physically shrug the compliments off him.
Leon sighed, “She can handle herself, I just happened to be there.”
“Leon,” Chris seemed to perfect the ‘dad’ tone of his voice, “Claire said she was about to burn in acid if you hadn’t helped her. That the United States Secretary of Defense tried to kill her for her natural penchant for trouble.” Chris tried valiantly for the merc to see his successes, his victories.
Leon remembered being there, dealing with Jason and Shen Mei. With ex-Secretary of Defense Wilson Sullivan. Jason’s words still buzz around his head sometimes, when late nights turn into early mornings.
Not wanting to rush down that rabbit hole, Leon shook his head, “Either way, I’m glad she’s safe.”
Chris seemingly didn’t like that response, frowning from the mercenary’s swift avoidance of his compliments. Leon cocked his head, his fringe covering one eye, watching the larger man sigh, “You’re either dense or frighteningly in need of friends and a self-esteem check. I’m hoping for the latter.” Leon huffed, “What are you offering?” He joked. Something seemed to spark in Chris’ eyes, something that Leon decidedly didn’t like.
“Perhaps. If I say yes, will I finally start seeing the man behind the veil?”
“You gotta stop calling me that.”
“Will I ever finally see him?” Chris asked, a teasing tone that was also unmistakably serious. Ever since the Terra Save event, Chris has been politely (but incessantly) asking Claire about Leon; about the rookie cop that would’ve probably have been his friend and someone to teach, someone to train, someone to protect.
Leon’s eyes caught the barista setting their drinks down on the counter, giving the mercenary the excuse to stand, “Not sure if that man exists anymore.” He hummed, less sad and more affirmed. He grabbed both their drinks, walking back to a solemn Chris Redfield.
“It’s nice of you to want to reach out, but considering both our status, that’s dangerous.” Leon sat down, taking a sip of his drink.
“Why’s that?” Chris frowned. Leon watched the other man for a second, seeing the frustration, hinting at Chris’ incapability to accept when things were out of reach, simply unattainable. A dangerous life to lead, Leon hummed to himself, heart so solidly on his sleeve. Leon set his drink down, watching the ice bob around the liquid, two separate states of matter, forced together until one of them melts and disappears while the other is left colder and more desirable.
“You really think the BSAA would be pleased and gung-ho about their Captain working with and sharing coffee dates with a mercenary? Someone previously known to work for Albert Wesker?”
Chris sighed, leaning back in the chair, the frustration gave away to a weary look, Chris finally looking his age. “You deserve better than what you were given.”
“Can’t change the past, Redfield.” Leon hummed, catching onto the laughter of the baristas with a customer who walked in with their small puppy. The barista handed the dog a small cup of whipped cream. He glanced back at Chris, realizing that the older man was watching him, a frown on his face. Obviously Chris seemingly wasn’t fond of any of Leon’s averse-responses. The mercenary shrugged, “You’re mad, but that’s the truth. What happened, happened. There’s nothing that can be done to change that.”
“Still doesn’t mean I have to agree with it.” Chris looked away, scowling. Chris hadn’t taken a sip of his coffee, the mood seeming gone. Leon crossed his legs, “You don’t.” He drank more of his drink, the two men falling into a silence, the environment carrying the silence into thankfully not an awkward one. The gentle aroma of coffee and tea felt weirdly natural, weirdly domestic.
Leon turned his head, hearing the soft pit-pat of paws as the puppy from earlier trotted over to Leon’s chair. The owner quickly approached, “I’m so sorry, Nimbus loves meeting strangers.”
Leon smiled, setting his glass down before he got off his chair, kneeling before the small white dog. It was a puppy, reminding him of that white wolf he met back in Spain. “It’s alright.” The fluffy puppy had no fear, no concern as they bounded towards him. No fear, just an unbridled joy of being alive. Leon almost envied the naivete of a fucking puppy, the wide brown eyes, the mismatched ears. Leon offered the puppy -Nimbus- his hand as the puppy ran up, licking his hand as he gently scooped the Nimbus up, handing it back to the owner as they apologized and profusely thanked him before taking their dog.
Leon smiled, sitting back down before he turned, frowning at Chris’ almost smug grin. “What?” He asked, his tone nothing short of accusatory.
“You’re a good man, Leon.”
Oh, Leon hated that tone. His back straightened almost unconsciously. He tilted his head, watching Chris with a more focused, sharp stare, “What are you getting at?”
“That this life, this profession you find yourself in, this isn’t you.” Leon felt slightly sick, he glanced at his drink, the ice cube was small, slow to melt. Leon swallowed, “Pretty bold, assuming what is and isn’t me. We’ve barely met, Redfield.” He tried for kind, but couldn’t shake the bite in his tone, trying to reign the conversation back into something he could control.
“I’ve heard enough from Claire, and I remember meeting you back in Spain; I’ve seen enough of you to have a pretty damn good picture.” Chris challenged. Leon felt his jaw clench before he looked away, watching the woman and her puppy, Nimbus, leave the cafe. “Regardless of what you’ve heard and regardless of what you’ve seen, I can’t easily slide into a domestic life, there’s still things I want to do.”
“Like saving Sherry? I-”
Chris nearly jumped at how fast Leon stood, his eyes meeting Leon’s, the words dying in his throat. There wasn’t much of an anger, but a far off, intense sadness before Leon’s eyes slid to Chris.
“We’re done here.” Leon looked away, “Thanks for the coffee.” The mercenary couldn’t care less about the few stares at his tense, barely restrained tone. Leon left without looking back, the soft jingle of the bell did nothing to hide the silence Chris felt as Leon left.
Chris deflated, sinking back in the chair with a sigh. He didn’t mean to push such a hard topic, but clearly he overstepped.
Chris still didn’t fully believe Claire when she would describe Leon when they first met. The boyish charm, the youthful smile; everything pointed to another person. Then seeing Leon back in Valdelobos, most of that boyish innocence was gone, if not all of it. Infected and for some reason helping save the President’s Daughter. A Mercenary saving the United States President’s daughter. What a weird B-movie. Chris and his team had arrived later than wanted, the US government was hesitant to send BSAA to help, but did eventually.
Apparently though, it was like they were barely needed. They arrived nearly at the climax of the fucking shitshow, finding Leon and the President’s daughter in some hidden lab on an island, both of them looked like shit warmed over, and Leon’s fire as he aimed his gun at Chris was nothing short of threatening and almost admirable. But with enough official titles being thrown around and enough papers and contracts handed to Leon let the mercenary hand Ashley over, saying ‘He still had shit to do’ before vanishing past a couple doors.
Hell, Chris didn’t even know Leon was a mercenary at the time, just assuming he was a victim that had managed to survive. It wasn’t until Chris and his team along with Ashley were on the BSAA Osprey that the noticed the massive fucking BOW engaged with with a women in red. Chris and his team provided covering fire from the Osprey before the weird creature, Chris now knew was Osmund Saddler, died.
Leon and the women in red conversed, climbing into the same Helo not before Leon managed to find the Osprey in the sky, eyes unreadable before he climbed into the helicopter as it flew away.
Apart of Chris wished he had ordered the Osprey to follow, but he had a mission to complete.
A mission he didn’t feel like he deserved.
Awarded with enough medals to make him nauseous, the US and the BSAA had opened a tentative albeit content alliance after Chris’ mission. It was seen as a monumental step for the BSAA and the US.
All that, and Leon had done most of the work, and Leon was the one who fought, bled, and got fucking infected and no one knew who had saved the President’s Daughter.
The Osprey ride back, Ashley stayed mostly silent, Chris managing to coax a couple snippets of what had happened. Ashley swore up and down on how much Leon saved her in every possible way. It had only made Chris feel worse; the knife digging deeper in his chest.
And now here he was, making a fool of himself in what he had hoped was a neutral location.
Chris couldn’t go and follow Leon back in Spain.
But he sure as hell was going to follow Leon now.
Chris stood, smiling briefly at the baristas as he left, looking around fruitlessly in the streets and sidewalks to find him. Nothing, just people walking along their merry-way. Chris was too late again. He sighed, “God fucking damn it.” He felt anger bubbling in his chest. Once again he was too fucking slow on the draw, god-
“Language Golden-Boy, there are children present.”
Chris jumped nearly a foot, turning around as Leon was leaning against the cafe wall, hidden almost perfectly behind a large Ficus tree as he stepped into view. Chris remained speechless, watching the mercenary clear his throat, eyes tired but not unkind, “I know you weren’t trying to be an ass. That, and I reacted too harshly, sorry.” Leon turned his head, his hair hiding his eyes in an almost planned way.
This man will be the death of him, Chris sighed, shaking his head, “I was the one who pushed you. You’re right, I don’t know that much about you but,” Chris approached, his hand tentatively reached out, sliding under Leon’s chin, gently lifting the man’s head, “I’d like to to learn more about you, if you’d let me.”
Leon’s eyes were wide, his body frozen for an embarrassingly amount of time before he smiled wistfully, gently pushing Chris’ hand down, his hand holding gently onto Chris’ forearm, “I was right when we first met, you’re full of surprises, Redfield.”
A small flicker of hope buzzed in the larger man’s eyes, “Is that a yes?”
Leon laughed, “It’s an invitation; How about lunch? I’m buying.” Leon looked up at Chris, his pale blue eyes were something like sapphire to Chris, his heart beaming, “Let’s go then.”