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Leon inhales, deep and indulgent, and appreciates the wonders of breathing. It’s a funny thing to acknowledge when you’re nearing fifty years old but here he is — relishing in the clear exhale that’s finally not accompanied by a taste of blood in his mouth.
“I’ll be damned. Can’t believe that antiviral actually worked,” he expresses his sentiment out loud to Sherry. “I feel better than I have in ages.”
He can’t help but wonder if there were some virus remnants still embedded in his body for the past decade, all the way back from Alcatraz, and Elpis has cleared that out along with the T-virus that was actively killing him.
“Thank god, I’m glad you’re okay,” Sherry responds and he can hear the relief heavy in her voice. Of course she’s worried about him first and doesn’t even ask after her own fate.
“I’ve got a dose with your name on it. You’ll be back in action in no time,” Leon assures her, because that’s what they do. They worry about each other because they know their own fate is last on their minds when their loved ones are in danger. But he already checked that the BSAA managed to retrieve at least one of the Elpis vials from the wreckage — making sure he didn’t need to prioritize making a blood donation so the cure can be reverse-engineered from him.
“Thank you, Leon.”
Speaking of the BSAA…
“Would have been a lot smoother if Chris hadn’t been so late to the party,” he can’t help but comment out loud. Quipping is Leon’s thing in any kind of situation, dire or not, but it always feels better when the teasing is shared with someone he loves rather than a coping mechanism when he’s about to be torn to shreds by a feral BOW. So he indulges right now with Sherry. They both know Chris’s team acted as swiftly as they could after the emergency call from Sherry but he still complains in order to prolong their communication. It feels good to simply talk to Sherry knowing they both survived this.
“Where is Chris anyway?”
“No idea,” Leon admits, shaking his head. It’s fair for Sherry to be asking him but he hasn’t been in contact with Chris since before going after Gideon.
Despite being exposed to T-virus in Arklay, Chris has escaped the ‘Umbrella’s curse’, the strain released in Raccoon City being the only one that managed to lay dormant for almost thirty years. But with everyone else he cares about exhibiting symptoms, Chris went to conduct his own investigation. They all had been working a number of possible angles. Leon following the lead of the other bodies with Sherry as his backup, Chris going with his Wolves to check a site where an outbreak with similar symptoms happened some years ago, Jill and Carlos… Well, Leon isn’t really sure, honestly, she always has her own ways. Claire, for whom the black necrosis has been progressing the fastest, stayed with Rebecca as her in-house guinea pig while their most trusted scientist tried to cook up a cure herself.
He has secured doses of Elpis for all of them already when he spoke with the BSAA earlier about replicating the necessary amount immediately but he trusts they’ll manage to get in contact with Jill as soon as possible to let her know of the latest developments. Getting off the grid isn’t uncommon in their line of work.
He can only hope Ada will either reach out to him for a dose or steal out one for herself; he counted her in too.
At least he doesn’t have to worry about Chris running out of time. Although, it will probably be good to administer Elpis to him anyway at some point in the near future — to clear out anything that may still be waiting to rear its ugly head, the way T-virus did for Raccoon City survivors.
“I’m sure I’ll run into him at some point,” Leon responds, unable to stop himself from quipping again and Sherry lets out an exasperated but fond sigh at his lame joke.
One would expect Leon would run into his own husband at some point.
When Sherry doesn’t gratify his antics with a response and Leon spots Grace nearby, he ends the call and approaches his fellow survivor of the latest hell.
All throughout his conversation with Grace, he keeps one of his hands in his pocket, fidgeting with the ring he stored there for the duration of the mission, thoughts of Chris luring him to it. As much as he loves wearing the ring properly, having a steady, undisturbed grip in his hands is essential in his line of work. But he still doesn’t like to be separated from it so it’s a substantial part of his gear along with his gun.
As soon as he’s done with talking to Grace, Leon gives in to the urge and sheds his gloves, throwing them to the side without a second look. They feel tainted by the T-virus, even though Leon logically knows the black was solely staining his skin and couldn’t transfer like that. He still doesn’t want a reminder of what they were hiding. Then, he finally takes out the ring and slides it onto its rightful place.
He immediately feels more himself, though he's still missing the man that goes along with the accessory.
✧✧✧
As no one from the BSAA that arrived on site at ARK could tell him anything more about Chris’s status beside the fact that orders came from him, Leon expects to be the first one home. His own debriefing and testing at medical took its sweet time before he was released, but considering Chris couldn’t arrive himself for the rescue, Leon didn't delude himself with the prospect of their reunion happening right away. He knew that Chris might have as well ended up on a different continent in his investigation, or something even weirder happened that Leon couldn’t imagine himself but wouldn’t be a surprise in the grand scheme of their line of work; so he braced himself that it might take even up to a week before he sees his husband in person again.
So it’s a very pleasant surprise when he tiredly shuffles into their apartment and, as he busies himself with locking the door, he’s startled with a sound of incoming footsteps. He doesn’t need to look to know it’s Chris, the cadence of his walk familiar and calming. When he turns around, there are already arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace.
“Leon, you’re back, fuck,” Chris breathes out like a prayer.
“Let me at least take a nap before that,” Leon chuckles but his own hands are grabbing at the other man desperately. His husband’s huge stature works wonders to make him immediately relax and turn off the mission mode in his brain. Claire keeps making jokes about Leon bulking up more than ever for his mid-life crisis but Chris is still bigger than him. And Leon loves that. It’s a cliché but being wrapped by Chris’s strong arms, snuggling into his wide chest, always makes Leon feel safe like nothing else in this world.
Chris just laughs shortly at the joke, more relief coming through than mirth. After their first fix of each other's closeness, Chris withdraws just enough to take a look at the man in front of him. His hands rest on Leon’s shoulders as his gaze slowly travels over his husband’s face and torso, checking for wounds and the signs of infection that marked his skin not so long ago.
“Still as old as I was when we last saw each other,” Leon smirks, trying not to squirm under the scrutiny for Chris’s sake. He knows he would want to see the other man is fine with his own eyes, too, if their situation was reversed.
“Still as handsome,” Chris corrects him and Leon shivers when his husband’s fingers stroke the side of his neck where the black omen of the infection has manifested first for him, the memories of Gideon doing the same to him resurfacing unprompted and unwanted. But then Chris leans in to leave a gentle kiss against the now clear skin and the wrong feeling seeps away, leaving just the reassuring warmth of his husband’s lips in its place. Leon leans into it, lets Chris’s beard scratch against his neck to override any other residual sensations there.
Then, he moves his own hands to Chris’s head and grabs his jaw to maneuver his husband into a position that allows their mouths to meet. The kiss is slow but passionate, their lips brushing in a practiced dance that’s both a familiar comfort and excitement that never fails to make Leon’s heart beat faster in wonder that he gets to have this — he gets to love and be loved. Leon shifts closer so that their bodies are flushed against each other once more, losing himself for this perfect moment in the feeling of coming back home.
They withdraw from each other haltingly and Leon gives himself a few seconds to savour all this before opening his eyes and returning to reality.
“As much as I am appreciating the welcome, I’d love to shed my gear already and get a shower,” Leon looks pointedly at his dirty shirt. Chris steps away to allow his husband to take his shoes off but continues to give him a lingering look. He has expressed it more than once how he enjoys seeing Leon in his gear, even asked Leon to wear the harnesses and holsters to their bed on occasion. But tonight isn’t about that and they both know it.
Once Leon is free from his shoes and starts walking towards the bathroom, Chris abruptly calls out: “Wait, did you lose your jacket again?”
“I didn’t lose it, I got knocked out and woke up without it,” he explains patiently. “Again.”
“That’s not better.”
“I didn’t come out of the closet to keep worrying about clothes,” Leon comments in a tone that indicates the end of the discussion and closes the bathroom door behind him. He still manages to hear Chris’s snort at his quip and smiles to himself.
They're both bone-tired but the craving to reassure themselves that they're alright wins over the need to sleep for now. After Leon is clean from all the usual mission gunk and finally in comfortable sweats, they order their favorite Chinese takeout because it's greasy and always arrives quickly. Stuffed full of good food, they arrange themselves in the living room to simply be for a while. Chris is sitting on the couch sideways with Leon between his legs, sprawled indulgently over his husband's chest, as reruns of Jane Austen adaptations play on TV as pleasant background; they always found the hundreds’ year old dramatics sufficiently escapist while also entertaining.
They talk about their respective investigations a bit and then discuss how good the food was when the mood turns too grim. There will be time to properly report everything tomorrow… For a while, they focus on watching 'Sense and Sensibility' while Chris brushes through Leon's hair the way he likes and Leon strokes meaningless patterns with his fingertips across Chris's bicep — their touches leading to nothing else but grounding each other.
When the credits roll and he’s no longer distracted by English people’s problems, Leon’s mind returns to his revisiting of Raccoon City.
“There was a moment in R.P.D. when I thought the virus has got me for good," Leon confesses and scrunches up his nose at the bizarre memory. "I could swear I saw a giant tofu block walking by the window."
Chris bursts out laughing.
"That's the last thing I expected you to follow that with," he admits as he's still shaking with it but then a sudden frown manifests on his face. "Now that you mentioned that, though…" he squints as if trying to recall something. "Back when I was with S.T.A.R.S., there was this rumor, or legend, or whatever you want to call it, of some kind of white, box-like cryptid in these weird corridors of R.P.D. building we didn't utilize everyday simply because of how unpractical they were. More than one person swore they saw it but the thing always ran before someone could gather any sort of proof."
Leon stares at his husband intently and the gravity of his glare is significantly diminished by the way he’s still lounging on Chris’s chest. "You're fucking with me right now."
In response, Chris lifts his hands as if in surrender. "I love you and I would never lie to you about cryptid hearsay in our former place of employment."
"Well, I am certainly not going back there again to check if there truly was and still is a sentient tofu haunting the place."
Suddenly, Chris’s arms tighten around Leon as he curves himself over his husband, as if shielding him from the whole world.
“Do you want to talk about it? Returning to Raccoon?” Chris murmurs into Leon’s hair.
He takes a moment to consider it.
“Your jacket was still there,” the words escape Leon as if of their own volition, soft and sounding detached even to his own ears. He feels himself slipping away into memories he doesn’t want to revisit tonight. He clears his throat to shake it all off. “Not right now,” he decides and readjusts his position on his husband’s chest so that he can now use Chris’s bicep as a pillow. “Let’s see what movie plays next.”
Chris plants a kiss on Leon’s temple but doesn’t push the topic.
“I hope it’s ‘Emma’,” Chris says he as unwraps himself from the man in his arms to his previous position where he can comfortably see the TV screen and then gets back to lightly scratching Leon’s scalp.
Leon has been through more life-threatening crises than most people, even in his business, but this time there did come a moment when he honestly thought he wouldn’t make it. Somehow, he slipped away from death’s fingers once more… He pecks Chris’s bicep, just because it’s the closest place he can reach without jostling their position, and gets one in return on the top of his head. He smiles at the small exchange, cherishes it.
He allows hope to bloom in his chest once more — that he somehow gets to have this life for a little longer.