Archive of Our Own

“He’s a stranger now, Claire.” Leon swirled the whiskey in his glass before taking a sip. 

Claire Redfield sat across from him in the booth, arms crossed and drink untouched. “He's not a stranger. You two have known each other for how long now? It's complete nonsense you two won't even be in the same place at the same time. I can't even have a fucking birthday party without having to manage you.” 

“Well, sorry I'm so unmanageable. Maybe you should give up like Chris did!” Leon’s tone was as condescending as he could make it. He and Claire had argued about all sorts of things over the decades, but the last thing he wanted to talk about during his rare and precious time off was her dickhead older brother. 

“He didn't give up on you. Chris isn't the type of person to give up on people.”

“Wow, could have fooled me.” Claire opened her mouth to respond, but Leon cut her off. “Listen, I'm not here to go back and forth on this with you. I'm not talking with him now and hopefully I won't have to ever again. He's your brother, so you should focus on him instead of me.” 

Claire only glared at him silently. 

“...I’ll even pay for drinks tonight as a sorry about your birthday.”

With that, Claire chugged the rest of her cocktail and stood. “Then I'm getting another. Whatever's the most expensive thing on the menu.” She stalked off to the bar to order. 

Leon rested his head on the cold laminated wood table. He wanted to remain friends with her forever. But he would die before he would willingly talk to Chris again. 

***

Chris tried to be social around Claire’s friends, although it seemed he had nothing in common with any of them. He was older, but not that much older, dammit. It was her birthday party and he was nursing a beer while looking longingly at the grill he wasn't allowed to touch. He was kicked from grilling duty this year and he was pretty sure it was because she was still pissed at him about the Leon incident. 

He didn't want to break up with Leon. Chris loved everything about him. Hell, he still did as much as the day he met him. Even now, his heart hurt at the idea of not loving him the same as always. Leon didn't seem to agree with that. 

Chris would be willing to admit his mistakes. He lived a lot of his life with blinders on intentionally. It was hard enough moving through the world with his responsibilities; it was impossible to ask him for more. Yet Leon seemed to expect everything from him. Chris didn't have the emotional bandwidth to spend on whatever conflicts Leon had conjured up out of thin air and they frustrated him a lot. If there was anything he couldn't stand at this point in his life, it would be fighting imaginary demons to somehow prove he really loved someone. Leon wasn't broken, but he sure tried pretending he was at every turn. 

Chris decided to chug his beer while thinking about it. He wouldn't do it. He simply wouldn't fight to prove his love every day anymore. Not if Leon thought he was lying about it every time. 

Claire startled him out of his thoughts by touching a beer bottle fresh from the cooler to the back of his neck. He swore, slapping a hand to the spot and twisting around to look back at her. 

She had a mischievous grin while holding out the beer to him. “Whatever serious bullshit you're currently lost in, save it for when it's not my birthday.” 

Chris took the beer with a thankful nod. Claire plopped down next to him where he was sitting on the stairs to her deck. Overlooking the backyard, they sat and watched the party. Chris couldn't help but narrow his eyes when they swept over Carlos Oliveira manning the grill instead of him. 

Claire elbowed him in ribs. “I mean it. I'm gonna get pissed.”

“Sorry. Maybe now that you're older, you can be wise enough for the both of us.”

Claire scoffed before taking a drink from her own beer. “Not possible. You're a lost cause.” 

Chris leaned into her space and hooked an arm around her neck despite her protesting. “Damn. And to think, we could've had non-burnt burgers today instead.”

***

Sherry would show up whenever she had free time at Leon’s apartment, usually dragging Jake along with her. She was always welcome, of course. Jake was welcome as long as he didn't piss Leon off too much at any given moment. 

Leon wanted Sherry to be happy, and it was clear she was when she was with Jake. It was just a little hard watching when he had fucked up his own life so much. He would have to accept it at this point; he was never going to have that kind of person in his life. 

He had spent a lot of time thinking about it. In the cold mornings alone, he would trace his fingertips over where the bed used to dip next to him under the weight of another. In the deathly silence after a nightmare, he would draw his knees to his chest and miss the snoring that would somehow soothe him. In the space in between Sherry and Jake holding hands, he'd tuck his own hands in his pockets to forget what it meant for them to be empty. 

It was possible to wax poetic for the rest of time about the things he had loved about Chris. Chris would have returned a thousand “love you’s” if he could. But Leon didn't think Chris actually liked him. Leon wasn't a likeable person. He hadn't been in a long time, or ever, when he really thought about it. It pissed Leon off that Chris was too stubborn to admit it. Chris would act like everything was right with the world (or that at least he could fix it if he punched enough things) and it drove Leon crazy. 

The fact that Sherry was still willing to put up with Leon on a regular basis was a miracle in itself. Which is why he would happily watch Sherry and Jake be happy for the rest of time. As long as he wasn't left behind. 

***

Jill took the first shot, breaking the racked balls. It was typical for her and Chris to play pool at a bar near BSAA HQ on Friday nights these days. Most times, Carlos would tag along with her. It made sense, if they were going to be in some sort of weird relationship. Chris wasn’t gonna ask any questions about it, that’s for sure. 

Chris let himself be distracted. He missed how he used to spend his Fridays, curled up next to Leon and watching some shitty movie Leon found that Chirs had never heard of. Leon was a perfect mystery science theater 3000 host on his own. Chris found himself looking forward to learning whatever new trivia Leon had for him on those nights, indulging in Leon’s smile and words that were reserved just for him. 

Watching Jill and Carlos bicker about whether the shot Carlos just took was legal was painful. It wasn't for any reason other than how he saw himself in those arguments. Or more rather, didn’t see himself. 

The arguments he had with Leon over the years weren't light-hearted. They were catastrophic, destroying everything in their path. Leon would throw out wild accusations about Chris’s thoughts and feelings and Chris would respond like his house just got nuked. Chris’s infamous temper was bad enough without Leon maliciously pressing all of his buttons. Maybe Chris wasn't the type of person to have good relationships like that. The people who did put up with him had stronger wills than his own, or at least had a temper that could match his. Leon’s anger always quickly turned to despair, racking Chris with guilt. 

Jill won the pool game as easily as she always did. Chris celebrated with another drink. 

***

“Fuck.” Leon swore under his breath as he leaned around the corner. He was up shit creek right now. 

At this point in his career, he wasn't stupid enough to believe it when he was told ‘the mission would be simple,’ but he wasn't prepared for the sheer amount of resistance he was facing. It didn’t match his briefs at all in terms of difficulty. 

The facility he was in was an underground bunker filled with BOWs with the express purpose of protecting a group of rich assholes. The idea had been that the rich would get richer and hide out here, protected by their expensive monsters. Leon was supposed to be infiltrating and dismantling the system. Well, he was supposed to be taking care of the BOWs; dismantling the system was his own idea. Leon had gone undercover as a potentially interested young money customer, showing up in nice formalwear and partaking in all the bullshit. The champagne, the hors d'oeuvres, the live jazz band performance, the inane small talk with rich weirdos with zero regard for human life. Like all missions, everything went sideways and the BOWs turned out to not be as controllable as promised, devouring their masters and threatening to spill into the outside world. 

There was a real chance he could die right now with how much his supplies had dwindled since the outbreak tore through the facility. Not to mention the goddamned tyrant stalking the premises. He was in a fucking suit, with only his Sentinel Nine and three knives tucked across his person for weapons. Out of habit he checked his gun’s magazine despite knowing how many bullets he had left. Five plus one in the chamber. Great. He's worked with worse.

An explosion down the hallway behind him brought him back into focus. The sounds of screaming and growling were getting louder and he needed to move. Checking back around the corner, he could see the tyrant had disappeared. That didn't bode well for him, but he didn't have the time to screw around with the advancing horde.  

Leon ducked into the nearest room after rounding the corner, sweeping for enemies before tucking a chair under the handle. He pulled out his phone while praying to any god that would listen that he'd be able to reach Sherry despite how far underground he was. 

“Sherry, come in.” 

Leon, reading you.

“Things have gone to shit. Some virus has infected everyone here. A tyrant is loose and I've got no idea of my exit options.” He could hear her typing over the line. 

Any other survivors?

“No clue.”

Where are you now?

“Some office on the fourth basement level.”

Okay, I've sent you a map of the facility with potential exit routes. Keep me updated. And please stay safe out there. 

“You got it boss.” Leon hung up and scrolled over the map on his phone. He had read it carefully before he started the mission, but right now he needed easy to follow paths to get the fuck out of there. 

He was interrupted by a loud slam against the door. The chair creaked under the weight. Leon's head snapped up before he started climbing onto a desk. He never stayed in rooms without a secondary exit for a fucking reason. With the blunt edge of his knife, he quickly unscrewed the cover to the air duct while the banging intensified. He had just gotten it off when the chair finally buckled and the door caved in. 

Shit, it was that tyrant. It was well over seven feet tall, ducking under the doorway and squeezing the disgusting clawed tendrils that acted as its arms through the threshold and over the rubble. One tendril lashed out, knocking over the chair at the desk Leon was standing on. He took that as his cue to leave and hoisted himself into the vent before the tyrant could clamber over the destroyed door. 

He army-crawled through the vent as fast as he could. Loud thuds echoed under him as the tyrant tried breaking through the ceiling to get to him. After enough crawling, it was clear that it lost him. He found an exit and kicked it open, landing in a lab. Pools of blood stained the stark white tiles and walls. Papers were scattered everywhere and most of the computers were destroyed. One screen remained intact and on, blinking with a pop up. After a quick sweep for hostiles, he went to read it. It was a warning about releasing the T-virus into the vent system. So that's how it started; someone intentionally sabotaged this place. 

“Sherry, it’s Leon. I'm on the far side of the floor now, close to getting up to the next one, but I've found some kind of lab. I think this outbreak was on purpose. If I take some pictures, can you–”

Leon was cut off by a dart sprouting from his neck. He grasped weakly at it before crashing to the ground, unconscious. 

***

Chris hoisted his rifle up, adjusting his grip as its flashlight flicked on. The facility they were in was underground with multiple levels full of shambling undead. However, the large claw marks marring the walls warned him and his team of a greater threat than just zombies. 

The BSAA had been called in by the US government for help in an outbreak containment in Virginia. Chris wasn’t supposed to have gone in himself with the team, but he changed his mind when he got a private call from Sherry Birkin, DSO. After hushed promises that this would remain between the two of them, she had informed him that Agent Leon S. Kennedy had been tasked with infiltrating a high society bunker that had experienced the initial outbreak, but had been cut off and went dark hours before. 

Chris knew why she was telling him this; the DSO didn’t rescue agents. If someone was going to bring him back in one piece, it had to be the BSAA. However, it was hit or miss whether Leon would listen to any orders that Chris gave, let alone some BSAA stranger he didn’t care for. So Chris agreed to be captain for a small team that would infiltrate the facility. He very intentionally tried to suppress and control his emotions around it all. He’d be damned if he didn’t say he still loved Leon more than he could describe, but that type of unregulated emotion could get him or others killed. He needed to be calm, cool, and collected Chris right now. For Leon’s sake and his own. 

The lights in the stairwell flickered as they descended another level. Leon’s last known location was the fourth floor, which they were arriving at now. They had only come across zombies so far, but Sherry warned them about a tyrant roaming the bunker. 

Chris stood to the side, ready to press open the door while one of his team members held their rifle at attention, aimed at the door. With a shared nod, they broke out into the hallway. 

A large section of the ceiling had collapsed in, blocking off the path to the left of the stairwell entrance. The reaching arms and hands of dead bodies stuck out from the rubble. Chris could still see the twitch of fingers even though the bodies were crushed. They needed to get moving. 

Chris took point as they moved down the hall, sweeping each room before moving on. As they turned the corner, he could see one room nearby with the door caved in. Claw marks gouged out the metal surrounding it. Carefully stepping over the remains of the door, Chris saw what occurred. Something large and powerful had broken in and someone had escaped through an air duct in the ceiling. Probably Leon, escaping the tyrant. There was no blood that Chris could see, so Leon made it out in one piece. But it was anyone’s guess where he went from here. 

The team went back to clearing the floor. At the end of the hallway was a door with an ID lock. Together, Chris and one of his team members kicked the door down and entered. The lab on the other side was a chaotic mess. However, the only thing that mattered to Chris at that moment was Leon’s custom SIG Sauer P226 lying abandoned on the ground. 

***

Leon felt like shit. It was definitely the worst hangover he’s ever had the misfortune of experiencing, but he doesn’t remember drinking. He was doing something else. He can’t remember what it was right now. 

He struggled to open his eyes, squirming until he realized his limbs were tied down. That motivated him to immediately try to sit up, eyes flying open. He was strapped to a cold examination table under a blinding light above. The rest of the room was dark, making it impossible to see what was beyond the edge of the shadow. He managed to look down enough to see that his suit jacket was gone, along with his shoulder holster. He had no idea if his knives were found or if they were still on him. 

At some point in his analysis of his situation, Leon heard a door open and close. He tried following the click of heels with his head, but the individual who entered was obscured. After a few minutes of papers shuffling and the clatter of something on a metal tray, a woman stepped into view. She was wearing a long lab coat, a white turtleneck, safety goggles, and a surgical mask. Her hair was pinned neatly into a bun behind her head. As she appeared from the darkness she pulled a metal cart with her. Its contents were too high up for him to see what was on it. 

Their first mistake would be not gagging him. “So doc, am I gonna make it?” 

The woman didn’t acknowledge his snarky comment. She picked up a large syringe with clear liquid off the tray. 

“I’m all caught up on my shots, but thanks for the offer.” Leon strained against the straps as he tried to pull away from her. 

She promptly stuck the syringe into his arm and injected it. It felt like fire coursing through his veins. In the distance he could hear himself screaming. 

***

Chris was certain he just heard something. He held out a hand back towards his team to request total silence. The group stopped in their tracks. His blood ran cold. There it was again, and it was definitely screaming. It was warped through metal and concrete, but enough experience told him what it was. He gestured to start moving again. 

The team moved through the dark hallway. As they closed in on the sound, Chris got that awful feeling as his brain tried alarming him to something important. He didn’t know what it was, but the scream he was hearing was familiar in a sickening way. His final recognition of the source was belated. 

Chris broke out into a run, one of his team members shouting out for him to wait. That was Leon. It had to be Leon. Who else could be down here? He found himself blocked by a set of locked double doors. There was a small window that he could see through. Leon was in the center of the room under a bright light strapped to a table, thrashing against the restraints holding him down. 

Chris pounded on the door as he shouted Leon’s name, before stepping back to give a hard kick to the door. The thick metal didn’t budge. 

“Damn it! Hold on, Leon!” Chris gave a few more hard kicks before his team caught up. The tech trained team member bent down to try and crack the ID swipe panel for the door. It was all too slow. Each second was agony, with Leon’s screams like knife stabs into his heart. Leon suddenly fell quiet, slumping in place. A few seconds later, the team member working on the door succeeded and the door slid open with a beep.

Chris rushed in without looking, heading straight to Leon’s side. His team would clear the room for him, he couldn’t focus on that right now. Leon was stark white with sweat beading down his slack face. Chris pressed his fingers against Leon’s neck and let out a shaky breath when there was a pulse. Pulling his knife from its sheath, he cut the restraints before gathering Leon in his arms and turning to follow his team back out of the facility. 

***

Leon felt like he’s woken up a million times now. Each time he faded back into reality, he didn’t do anything useful like opening his eyes or trying to move. It was so annoying that nothing worked despite his efforts. Maybe this was hell and the distressing feeling of sinking was his eternal punishment for his transgressions. He drifted back off to sleep.

He woke up again with a start. For the first time since this all started he felt like he was back inside his body and it hurt like a bitch. He groaned softly, going to rub his eyes. Someone was definitely talking at him right now, but it was hard to concentrate. Eventually, he pulled his hands away from his face and opened his eyes, blinking in the soft light. 

A large blurry figure was leaning over him. Leon wasn’t out of it enough to pretend he didn’t know which bastard the size of a house would be pestering him while waking up from whatever injuries he managed to get that landed him in a hospital setting. 

“.. r’field. Yer blockin’ all the light…” Leon mumbled out, waving a hand limply at the figure.

“Leon, holy shit. How are you feeling?” As the figure spoke, his form started to become more solid. Chris was sitting next to him with those damned big round mismatched eyes. Leon always felt like he kicked a puppy when Chris looked at him like that. He was just too expressive and Leon was sensitive to that kind of thing. So out of spite, he turned his head away and didn’t answer. 

On his other side, Leon could see Rebecca Chambers. Well shit, what was she doing here? Fiddling with some IV bag that’s apparently attached to him. She gave him a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you’re awake, Leon. The serum they gave you should be mostly out of your system now, but this should help you feel better.” She gently patted his arm while he nodded at her blankly. 

“What’d they give me?” His mouth was feeling less like cotton now that he was waking up. 

“I’m not entirely sure. I got a sample from your blood and it’s not a pathogen or parasite. Whatever their goal with it was, we can’t know until documents from the facility are recovered or my analysis of the product is done, whichever happens first. But it shouldn’t turn you into anything. I want to keep you here for a few more days of observation still,” Rebecca said. 

Leon grunted in agreement. If there was anyone he didn’t want to piss off, it was Rebecca Chambers when she was in doctor mode. Or in any mode. But doctor mode was definitely the scariest. She left the room after that. 

Looking around, Leon realized this wasn’t a normal hospital. “Where am I?” 

“BSAA medical ward at our New York headquarters. Closest place we could ship you with quarantine capabilities. If you had been infected with something, it would’ve been a nightmare to take you to a normal hospital.” Chris answered.

“‘Kay. The outbreak?” Leon refused to look at him while talking, deciding to pick at the edge of the hospital blanket instead. 

“Taken care of.” Chris settled down in a chair beside Leon’s bedside. Had he been here the whole time?

“Good job, golden boy.” 

“Happy to help, always.” Chris leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. This asshole really was gonna continue sticking around, wasn't he? 

“You should get going now, Redfield.” 

“Don't wanna.”

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Don't act like a child.” 

“Hmm. Tall order for me, you know that.”

Leon glanced at Chris, who was giving him a wry smile. He decided not to answer him anymore, letting his head fall back against the pillow. 

Chris only let him have a few blissful moments of quiet before speaking again. “It's good to see you. I missed you. Missed talking to you.”

Leon looked at him aghast. Chris really was incorrigible. Leon didn't even want to answer that, so instead he just covered his face with a hand and sighed. 

He knew he'd be even more pissed if he stopped to look now. Without a doubt, Chris was sitting there with that stupid smug look on his face. 

***

“He’s leaving already? But I thought you said he needed more observation days.” Chris couldn’t reign in his frustration about the situation.

“The DSO is already asking for him back, and I got my results back on the serum he was injected with. He’s not an infection threat and he’s not in any danger. It’s already cleared out of his system. He wants to leave.” Rebecca didn’t look away from the graphs she was looking at on her screen. 

“But–”

“No buts. If I thought for even a moment that he needed to stay, he wouldn’t be leaving. He’s fine.” She paused, before continuing while looking at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you think him staying will improve your chances with him?” 

Chris didn’t dignify that with a response, instead stomping out of her lab and down the hall to the room in the medbay where Leon had spent the past few days resting. Leon was there, dressed and packing his bag that Sherry had brought him of clothes and toiletries when she had visited a couple of days ago. 

“Seriously?! You’re leaving?” Chris started out the gate aggressive.

Leon didn’t turn around at that. “Yep.” He popped the ‘p.’

“Leon. I know that Rebecca said–”

“So you talked to her and you’re still here bothering me?” Leon cut him off. 

Chris let himself stand there fuming for a few seconds. If he said anything right now, he was going to lose it. Leon threw his bag over his shoulder and turned, giving him an annoyed scowl.

“Leon. Please don’t leave yet, until I know that you’re okay.” Chris tried pleading with him. 

“I’m sure you’re so concerned about that. Not everything is about you.” Leon went to leave, but Chris grabbed his arm as he passed him. 

“Please Leon, can we at least talk?”

“What could we possibly have to talk about? Let go.” 

“Not until you promise to hear me out.” 

“No.”

“Then I’m not letting go.” Chris tightened his grip on Leon’s arm. He wasn’t above acting desperate. 

“What, then? What’s so important that you won’t fuck off? Don’t be shy now.” 

“I wanted to talk about us, Leon. The past few days, I just. I realized how much I missed being around you.”

Leon stared at him in silence for a few moments. “You really can't be serious, Chris.”

“I am. And I'm sorry for anything I’ve done to hurt you.” 

Leon’s eye twitched. “If you're so sorry, then let go of me.”

“...Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm not stupid or suicidal, I'm not gonna run off into the sunset if I thought it would kill me.”

Chris nodded but didn't release Leon’s arm. “Then you're okay enough to talk.”

“Oh for fucks– Chris! I don't wanna talk!” At this, Leon stepped down hard on Chris’s foot, who let go of Leon’s arm in surprise at the attack. Leon shot out the door and down the hallway before Chris could stop him. 

***

“Is this some sort of joke?” Leon was truly, deeply flabbergasted at this entire situation. 

He had just gotten home from a mission and his goddamned living room had people in it. People he didn't invite in. 

“How the fuck did you get in?” Leon spat out as he dumped his bag near the door and started kicking off his boots, eyes sweeping slowly over the group. Jill Valentine, Claire Redfield, Carlos Oliveira, Sherry Birkin, Jake Muller, Helena Harper. “It's not my birthday, I don't need a surprise party.”

Jill spoke up with her arms crossed. “Picked the locks. Plural. We need to talk.”

“If this is an intervention, then I'm not listening. I don't have a drinking problem. It's a drinking answer to my actual problems.” Leon didn't even stop to look at the group as he rounded the island that separated the living room from his kitchen and opened the fridge. Good, he still had beers in here. 

“It's not about that, Leon. Although you should probably rein that in too,” Helena said. 

Leon popped the cap off his beer and took a sip, turning back to the group and leaning on the island. “Then what do you want?” 

Sherry spoke up with a gentle voice. “It's about you and… well, you and Chris.”

Leon froze. What the fuck? “What could we possibly need to talk about regarding that?”

“You two have been moping around and wallowing in your pity and sorrow ever since you broke up.” Claire sounded annoyed as she spoke. “It's fine if you're really not in love, which I don't believe by the way, but you can't take it out on all of us.”

Leon narrowed his eyes. “I'm not taking it out on anyone. I just don't see why I have to be around him.” 

“I knew this wasn't gonna work.” Jake muttered under his breath. Sherry elbowed him in the side at that comment. 

“Come on man, you and Chris have known each other for a long time. Whatever went down, I'm sure you can talk it out.” Carlos piped up from his spot on the couch. That fucker had gotten comfortable, apparently. 

Why did everyone think a nice conversation between Leon and Chris would magically fix everything? “You guys are acting like we broke up without talking at all. We tried talking. We're not the type of people it works for.” Leon went to drink a significant portion of his beer. 

“We're asking– I’m asking you to try again.” Claire walked up to the other side of the island and leaned forward, elbows resting on the granite counter. “I know you don't want to. But you need to. Not for our sakes, or even Chris’s, but your own. Are you really gonna spend the rest of your life angry and alone?”

“Yes.” Leon looped around the island towards his bedroom. “Let yourself out whenever. Don't bother locking up.” He slammed the bedroom door behind him and locked it. 

***

The pop up tent for operations in the field was sweltering. It wasn't made any better with the fact that Chris was in full gear right now and he was definitely going to die from heat stroke at this point. Chris didn't know how BOWs were supposed to survive in this heat, because he certainly couldn't. This was like Africa all over again. 

It was the height of summer in Mexico and the BSAA was completing an operation a few clicks from New Mexico across the U.S. border after concerning reports of undead in local communities.  They couldn't afford to push back their presence; they were already delayed in their response due to the Virginia incident. 

Chris wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand and started adjusting his body armor straps. He was in the middle of his weapons check when he heard a low boom that rattled the tent. Shit, that was an explosion. 

He jumped to his feet and grabbed his rifle, heading out of the tent and into the thick afternoon heat. A smoke plume was rising about a mile to their north. That was halfway between them and the border. From their intel, nothing should be in that stretch of desert. He waved over his team who were filtering out of other tents with weapons drawn. 

He got into the passenger seat of a nearby armored truck while one of his team members got in the driver's seat. The rest piled into the truck bed in the back. They started towards the smoke. 

On arrival, it was clear whatever had exploded had been from underground, collapsing the sand into a swirling crater. The only evidence of any potentially human built infrastructure was a small hole sloping down into the earth about 50 yards from the edge of where the remaining fumes trailed into the sky. It had wooden beams supporting its shape and was just big enough to fit one person at a time.

Using his flashlight, Chris tried looking down the tunnel. A twist shortly after the entrance obscured his view. He radioed in to inform base camp that he was going to check it out, then picked out one team member to go with him, an ex-military man in his 30s who joined the BSAA maybe 4 or 5 years prior, and told the rest to remain topside in case anything occurred out there.

Chris led as pointman down the tunnel. The air was frigid compared to the baking heat above ground. After a few turns in the tunnel, it widened as the ground turned from cold dirt to brushed concrete. At the end of the tunnel was a familiar type of door.

“Goddamit, why the hell were they down here?” Chris swore before testing his radio connection to call this in. “Base, this is Alpha team. We’ve got a problem. There’s an Umbrella facility down here.” 

The door was partially open, the machinery attempting to close every few seconds with a beep, stopped by a desk wedged in its threshold. The lights were flickering but still mostly functional on the other side. 

Chris’s radio crackled to life. 

Alpha team, this is Base. Confirming report of Umbrella facility underground near recent explosion location.

His team member, Torres, peered through the opening while Chris continued his report to base. 

“Captain, it looks untouched. No sign of undead or BOWs. But it’s in perfect condition and it had to have been here for decades, so how is that possible?”

Chris leaned in to look. The walls and floor were spotless. Not a speck of dust lined the lobby furniture or floated in the air. The most chilling part to Chris was the perfectly healthy and green potted plant sitting in the corner. This place was being cared for up until now. Even further, no alarms were going off. So what was that explosion, why was the door wedged open, and how did any of it relate to the reports of undead wandering the desert?

He wasn’t given time to dwell on it as gunshots rang out from deep in the lab. In one swift movement he vaulted the desk and started moving in. Torres followed closely behind. Together they moved as a unit towards the sound, rifles raised. 

By the time they reached the central section of the lab, the shooting had stopped. The large open column of the lab’s center dropped down endlessly into the dark below. Three walkways attached to a central platform. Two of the three walkways were connected, including the walkway they took in, while the third had been retracted.

There was something moving on the center platform. It was hard to make out from that distance, but Chris had enough experience to know that its unnatural movements could only mean one thing. He signalled to Torres to follow him closely on guard and started down the connected walkway. 

Closing in, they could see what it was. Fuck. That was a hunter. It was injured, limping aimlessly in circles around the platform leaving behind a trail of blood. It didn’t notice them as they neared the end of the walkway, which was strange considering that Chris had never tried to be stealthy a day in his life. His loud bootsteps echoed throughout the chamber without it even glancing in their direction. 

Torres looked at him for instruction and Chris nodded. They squeezed their triggers at the same time, unleashing a torrent of bullets onto the BOW. It howled and thrashed, before charging in the wrong direction and directly off the platform, careening into the abyss. 

“What the hell? Captain, that thing was not right.” Torres commented while he glimpsed over the edge. 

“It may have been too injured to function. Eyes up Torres, we don’t have time to think on it.” Chris continued moving forward. The clink of metal against his boot drew his attention. Spent bullet casings. Whoever fired the bullets they came from wasn’t here anymore. They would try the path available first. 

The available walkway led to a Section 2 of the lab. Its doors were open with the lights off inside. Unlike what they had seen before, this section was in bad shape. Dead bodies littered the floors. They were fresh but marred with viral decay. Each one had a perfect singular headshot. 

Chris ended up slightly ahead of Torres. As he moved down the hall, he could see light pouring from a side room. He leaned in just enough to see what was inside. 

It was a research office with rows of desks with computers. A computer was powered on and flipping through emails at the control of the person standing with their back to the door. 

Chris cleared his throat before speaking. “Not like you to have your back to the door.”

The person whirled around. Leon S. Kennedy had his gun pulled and trained on Chris before he finished turning. 

“Please don't shoot me, Leon.” Chris asked dryly as he stepped in the room. “Torres, on watch.”

Torres nodded and remained outside the room, eyes focused on any potential approaching enemies in the hallway. 

Chris looked Leon up and down for injuries. He was disheveled but in one piece. “What are you doing down here?” 

Leon huffed as he holstered his weapon. “I could ask you the same thing.” He turned to pull a flashdrive out the computer he had been viewing. “Didn't know the BSAA knew about this place.”

“We were investigating reports of BOWs in the area when we saw an explosion near our base camp, situated about a mile south of here. Went to investigate and found this place. But it doesn't make sense, Leon. How is there an intact facility here?” Chris glanced down at papers on the nearest desk to the door. Figures on results for some undescribed project. 

“Yeah. DSO intelligence had some intel on a group working down here, but when I arrived it was a hell of a surprise to see that logo. From what I've read here, they were a hidden remaining contingent relying on black market sales to maintain their research. They were working on some big project–” Leon abruptly cut himself off. 

Chris looked up at him with one eyebrow raised as Leon shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. 

“...I’m not supposed to be talking with you right now,” Leon said.

“Huh? Not supposed to? Seriously? We're in an underground Umbrella lab with BOWs roaming the fucking halls and you're worried about our messy relationship status?” Chris asked bewildered. Leon could not be serious right now with this shit. They'd have to work together to make sure they both got out alive. Even if nothing was going wrong now, it could at any moment. 

“Yeah, I know how this works. I let you speak and then I'm caving to your bullshit. It's not gonna happen this time, Redfield.”

“It's not caving to anything to work together in a fucking Umbrella facility, Leon.”

“Calling me by my first name isn't gonna change anything.” Leon crossed his arms like a petulant child. 

“It's more fucked up that you won't even call me Chris anymore! This is serious, if you know something, then you have to tell me.”

“I don't have to do anything. Why don't you just–”

“Captain!” A shout and gunshots interrupted them. Chris was back out the door followed by Leon in an instant. Multiple lickers were crawling out of the vents in the ceiling. 

“Fucking hell, why'd you alert them?!” Leon raised his handgun and fired a few expert shots in the heart of one while Chris took down the one closest to Torres. 

They were able to kill the few that had attacked, but they weren't given a moment to rest. After the last licker fell to the ground, a loud roar shook the facility. 

“Fuck. That sounded big.” Chris tried radioing to base camp but the connection only spit out static. “No signal here, either.”

“Project Eris.” Chris and Torres turned to look at Leon when he spoke. “It’s what they were allegedly working on down here. The chief research officer seemed pretty obsessive and crazy, but that’s par for the course with the type of people willing to work on this type of shit.”

“Eris, what’s that supposed to mean?” Torres asked.

Leon glanced at him from the side, before looking at Chris. Chris knew his face was showing the same amount of confusion. Leon sighed, adjusting the grip on his gun before turning back towards the central area of the lab. “Greek goddess of strife and discord. Sister to Ares, god of war. Mother to a whole host of interesting things as the personifications of famine and murder. Really just the typical stuff that these fucking weirdos love.” 

Torres let out a low whistle as he fell in line behind Chris and Leon as they walked. “Damn. Freaks.” 

“Just more shit in a long line of the same behavior from these bioterrorist assholes. Whatever it is that’s down here, we need to stop it before it can get out and cause damage. Keep your eyes up and stay alert. Can’t allow for any distractions in these kinda places.” Chris shouldered his way to the front of the group while speaking, ignoring the annoyed glare from Leon.

When they made it back down the walkway to the central platform, they were able to meet Project Eris directly. On the far end of the room, wriggling through the doors at the end of the retracted walkway, was a massive creature the size of a building. It had a large mouth with rows of sharp teeth spanning half its body, multiple pairs of bulging red yellow eyes scattered randomly, and eight pairs of long spindly limbs lined with hooks. What was really striking about it was the hundreds of faces frozen in screams of terror embedded across its flesh. Black blood and chunks of gore dripped from every orifice. 

As soon as its body had crossed most of the threshold of the doors, a polite woman’s voice echoed over the loudspeakers as red lights started flashing. 

Level four organism detected in the central column. Activating purge protocols now. This facility will self-destruct in 10 minutes. 

“Well, fuck. We gotta get out of here,” Leon said. He turned to run down the walkway to the exit, but the other walkways started retracting. “Shit!” 

Project Eris started thrashing on its small platform across the room, wailing that it was far away and unable to easily reach them, before starting to scuttle across the walls. 

“Of course it can stick to walls, dammit, open fire!” Chris shouted. 

Chris and Torres started firing while Leon approached a small control panel near the center of the platform.  

The bullets didn't seem to do anything as the BOW crawled in big circles around them on the walls at surprisingly high speeds. 

Leon swore at the panel, before typing in something that solicited a loud beep. At that, all three walkways activated. “Fuck, run!” He took off sprinting towards the exit. 

Chris signaled to follow. Torres ran ahead while Chris lagged behind, not for any virtuous reason but simply because he was the biggest and heaviest, weighed down by his gear. He could hear Project Eris scuttling down one of the walkways behind him, catching up. 

At the end of the pathway, the door to the exit started slowly closing. Leon reached it and stopped, turning to fire shots at the pursuing creature. Torres joined him moments later. 

The howling and gnashing teeth were right behind Chris. He just needed to do one final push. He was about 10 yards away when a hooked leg swung out and slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground. He skidded sideways across the walkway and right off the edge. He remained in the air instead of falling into the abyss, swinging from his rifle strap that caught on an exposed rivet. Immediately he turned, grasped the edge, and tried hoisting himself up. 

Project Eris was towering over him. Fat drops of acidic spit dribbled down and hissed as they melted through his body armor. Up close he could see the faces opening and closing their mouths like they were trying to speak, but there was nothing sentient behind the many eyes of the BOW.

It raised a leg to strike, but was hit by a small explosion. It reeled back screeching, limbs flailing. In the opened up space, Torres appeared above Chris and grabbed the back of his armor to help him climb back up. Together they ran to Leon, who was preparing to throw another grenade. All three ran through the doors and Leon rolled the grenade in hand at the BOW as the doors slammed shut. They stood panting for a few moments of silence. 

“Shit, wait. We need to, we need to kill it.” Chris spoke through gasps. 

“No way, you’re injured.” Leon moved forward and was by his side in an instant. “Another team can handle that.”

At that, Chris looked down. The hooks from the BOW’s leg had shredded through his armor and side. Bright red blood was soaking through his clothes and streaking down his side. Oh shit. How did he not notice that earlier? Now that he knew about it the pain hit him like a truck, doubling him over as he groaned. 

Leon went to support Chris while turning to Torres, throwing Chris’s arm over his shoulder. “Hey BSAA brat, you gotta cover us while we get out of here.”

Torres huffed but nodded. Leon helped Chris limp through the tunnels while Torres followed behind. They ignored the screeching and thuds coming from behind. As far as Chris could tell through the painful haze settled on his senses, Project Eris hadn’t broken through the doors yet. 

They made it the surface in one piece. As soon as Chris’s team saw him, they rushed forward to try and help him onto the truck bed. Leon stepped back a few paces, looking conflicted. Chris went to tell him to get over himself and get on the truck, but Leon held up a hand as his head turned towards the billowing smoke plume. 

“Do you hear that?” Leon asked.

The group listened for a few tense moments.

“No, I don’t hear anything. What–” Torres started but was quickly cut off by Leon.

“Exactly. I don’t hear anything. So what is Project Eris doing, if not slamming against the facility doors anymore?”

None of them got the opportunity to think on that as the pit of sand turned chaotic. Large puffs of sand shot into the air and the earth shifted as a long disgusting leg stuck straight up through the ground. Then another, and another.

“Shit, we gotta go!” Leon ran and jumped onto the truck bed as the driver peeled off. 

Project Eris scrambled out of the sand, dragging itself into the sun. It was somehow even more despicable in the daylight. The fluids dripping from it stained the sand clumping to its body. Then, it spotted them. With a shriek it started crawling towards them. It wasn’t as fast as it was before, its thin and pointed legs sinking into the sand easily. 

“Base, come in, base! This is Richards, Alpha team! We’ve got a big fuckoff BOW chasing us through the desert. We’re heading west on the truck now but we’re gonna need some serious firepower!” The driver was desperately shouting into his radio. 

Alpha team, roger. Scrambling air support now. Silver Dagger ETA ten minutes. 

“We’ll just have to make our own fun until then.” Leon started digging through the crates on the truck while the BSAA team members started shooting at the BOW. “Yes, score!” 

Leon pulled a rocket launcher out of a crate, which he hoisted up on his shoulder. He made a passing glance at Chris, giving him a smirk. Fuck, he’s so hot, Chris thought. 

The swerving of the truck and the blood loss was making Chris nauseous at this point. The medic of the team, a young woman with the surname Park, was pressing gauze to his side and urging him to stay awake. He simply nodded at that and let his head fall back, resting on the cold metal of the truck bed. He could hear the sounds of helicopter blades thumping somewhere far above him, explosions going off, and that damn BOW wailing and howling. It was a lot of chaos to process. So his brain decided the best thing to do would be to shut off.

***

Leon rested his forehead against the cold glass of the vending machine. He had been up for almost 48 hours now and the stress combined with the strain on his body was starting to catch up with him. He wasn’t young anymore; he couldn’t make it through these long and arduous missions like he used to. Especially when they would inevitably go to hell and he had to fight for his life against some insane abomination. 

A hand stuck out into his field of view. “I don’t think praying to it will get you a free snack, Kennedy.” Leon turned ever so slightly with his head still resting on the glass to look at Nadia. 

“You don’t know that. Think of all the animal sacrifices I’ve done for a bag of doritos.”

Nadia only crossed her arms at that. “The boss is asking for you. But I don’t think you should go see him.” 

That caused Leon to straighten up. In the silence of their staredown, the canned coffee he had bought clattered to the pick up tray of the machine. He didn’t go to reach for it.

“And why is that?”

“I think you’ve done enough damage, haven’t you?” She raised a disapproving eyebrow at him. “All he does is talk about you. You're all he's talked about for decades now according to Valentine, and you only try to break his heart. At what point are you gonna give up trying to destroy what he has left?” 

Leon stared at her. This was combative, and fucking bizarre. “What the fuck do you know about us?” He snapped. 

“I know that he won’t show you how much you’ve fucked him up, Kennedy. He’d never let you see because he doesn’t want you to feel bad. God knows that us here at the BSAA have heard enough about how much he’s tried to meet you in the middle and got nowhere but would never say a damned bad thing about you.” She pointed at him accusingly. “Even now, with a chunk of his side missing, he’s lying in the medbay worrying about your sorry ass. Worrying that you’ll take off without him, without talking with him. At what point are you going to free him from his obligations to you?”

Leon faltered at that barrage. He already knew he was a burden to Chris, he didn’t need to be told that. But an active threat? He hadn’t considered that before. He reached down, grabbed his coffee, turned, and left her standing there without an answer. He was out of the building and heading towards his rental car in under a minute.

***

Chris had to admit to himself that it hurt that Leon was back to totally ignoring him. Every option he had tried for reconciliation had totally and utterly failed. He had even checked to see if he was still blocked when Leon had left again without talking to him; he was. 

He shifted uncomfortably at his desk. The wound in his side itched as it healed. That was always the most annoying part of getting injured in the field, the fucking itchiness on the inside that you can't scratch. He wasn’t even supposed to be back yet, but he couldn’t abandon the BSAA as the paperwork about Project Eris and its disruptions at the border poured in. That's what he told himself, instead of admitting it was a distraction from his own problems. 

There was a short knock on his office door. “Come in.” 

Jill Valentine entered, closing the door behind her and making herself comfortable in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Chris raised an eyebrow at her but continued reading the report on his desk. She didn’t speak right away, instead leaning back with her arms crossed and chewing her lip. 

“You know, I’ve been talking with Carlos.” She started.

“What a bad idea.” Chris flipped to the next page of the report without looking up.  

“We’re in agreement about something for once. That whatever’s going on between you and Leon needs to be figured out now.”

That interrupted Chris’s reading as his eyes snapped up to Jill. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Jill, do you think I haven’t tried that a million times by now?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You two are in an endless competition to see who can be the most stubborn asshole on the planet. But you almost died, Chris. From what I’ve read of Torres’s report, you two were arguing while in that facility. You didn’t communicate and weren’t prepared to fight. Your heads weren’t in the game. I know the last thing you’d ever want is Leon dying because of your mistakes, and he doesn’t want you to die because of his. I don’t care what the outcome is, Chris, but you two need to get it together and decide how you’ll work together in the future, because we all know that neither of you are gonna leave the field willingly and you're gonna run into each other again eventually. You were lucky this time. You of all people know that it takes just one mistake for everything to go wrong.”

Chris worked his jaw. He didn’t like being lectured. He sure as hell didn’t like when people brought up his own failures to protect others. Jill was only saying all of this because she knew she was the only one that could get away with it. 

“I… don’t know what to do with him anymore, Jill. He blocked my number. He skipped Claire’s fucking birthday party this year so he wouldn't have to even be near me in a casual setting. He won’t cooperate in the field with me if I’m there. He won’t leave me to die, but he’s totally uncontrollable.” Chris stopped to give himself a moment to take a deep breath. His temper was rearing its ugly head even just thinking about the topic. “I know he’s supposed to be doing his lone agent schtick, but he seems to end up bumping into the BSAA all the time, and I'm worried he's gonna get hurt because he won't let others help him. I just want him to be safe.”

“That’s not ‘just’ what you want.” Chris made eye contact with Jill. Her eyes were sharp and relentless, boring into him.

“...It’s not. But Leon doesn’t want it.”

Jill was starting to look exasperated. “Oh for fucks– you two are so irritating.” She stood up and spun around, exiting his office. As she left, she said one last thing over her shoulder. “He’s in New York right now, you know.” 

She didn’t stick around for questions after that. 

***

Leon was nursing a whiskey at his hotel’s bar when his phone started buzzing. He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Jill Valentine? What did she want at this hour? It had to be some kind of emergency. He pressed ‘answer’ and put the phone up to his ear. 

“This is Kennedy. Valentine?”

Kennedy. Are you available right now?

“Hmm.” He debated whether he would say if he was free or not. He was having a very nice time right now, thank you very much. He’s also only had one drink so far. He doesn’t wanna end the party early. “Depends on what you want me for.”

You need to check your email more often. You’re supposed to be at BSAA HQ right now for the
US-Mexico border outbreak debriefing.

“I thought my report was supposed to be enough. Why do I have to go to a debriefing with you people?” He checked his watch. “It’s not even working hours anymore.”  

Yeah, take it up with O’Brian. Get here ASAP.

She hung up on him. Whatever. He chugged his drink before sliding off the barstool he was perched on and trudging to his bike in the hotel parking garage. 

If he recalled correctly, the BSAA headquarters was only a short drive away. He used to go there often when he was still dating Chris. Hell, he was there often even before then.

When he and Chris broke up, they had a blow up there. Leon distinctly remembers throwing Chris’s favorite work mug at his head while screaming at him. He tried to shake away the memories as he turned through the streets of the city. 

Security let him by without concern. Jill was waiting for him and walked with him to the conference room in silence. The debriefing itself was boring. Leon was right; this could've been an email. He sat through it without even trying to look like he wasn't bored out of his mind. He didn't look once in Chris’s direction. 

Most of the meeting, Leon scribbled random shapes onto a notepad. He was partway through a particularly vicious looking series of triangles when someone cleared their throat next to him. He glanced up to see Jill standing there. A quick look around informed him that the meeting had ended and everyone else was filtering out of the room. 

“Great waste of time today, Valentine.” Leon pushed the notepad away as he stood. 

“Usually is. I need to talk with you about something.”

Leon raised an eyebrow at her as she started walking out with a gesture to follow her. She led him to her office and held out a hand for him to enter. Because it was her office, he didn't think much about the situation and walked in without looking, instead glancing over his shoulder at Jill. He passed the threshold of the door just enough for her to slam it shut on him.

“What the fuck, Jill?” He went to try the handle, but it was locked. 

“Oh shit.” 

Leon whipped around at the voice. Chris was sitting in one of the chairs in front of Jill’s desk. He looked as confused as Leon was feeling right now. 

“What the hell is going on?” Leon asked. He didn't move from his spot. 

“Jill asked me to discuss one of the reports from Mexico with her, but she said she had to grab something really quick. I guess she meant you. Fuck, I'm sorry, Leon.”

Leon’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry for what, being an accomplice? Or did you actually not know she was going to do this?”

“I didn't know. Not at the point where I have the energy to try and make you talk to me anymore.” Chris slumped back in his chair as he ran a hand through his short hair. He was looking out the window across the desk, exhausted. 

“Good, I spent a lot of time on making myself unapproachable.” Leon said snidely.

“Really, Leon? Can you not be an asshole for one minute?” Chris twisted around to fully face Leon. He looks pissed now. 

“Nope, not possible. Like you actually give a shit.”

“You're always saying that and it's insane, Leon! You sound insane when you say that shit!” Chris slammed his hand on the desk and stood in his anger, crossing the few steps of space between them in a single bound.  

“What would you know about that, Redfield? You're the one who didn't wanna deal with my shit anymore anyways.” Leon could feel his own anger rising to meet Chris’s. 

“I didn't wanna deal with you not believing me! How many times, Leon, did you come up with some kinda bullshit about what I was thinking or doing that wasn't true? I'm not gonna fight every last one of your hypothetical demons whenever you come up with them just because you're bored!” Chris was raising his voice now. 

“It's not ‘hypothetical’ to wanna know why you're wasting your time, Chris!” Leon raised his voice in response. “It's not hypothetical when you know what it means for me to even ask. Because you fucking know no one else ever has ever cared! I was the fucking idiot to ever let you see that part of me in the first place!” Leon tried to push Chris, hard, out of his space. 

Chris was an immovable object. “See what, Leon? You’ve never actually let me in!”

“You have got no fucking clue about anything, Redfield.” Leon’s voice dropped low as tried to control his rage. Last thing he needed was another outburst at the BSAA because they couldn’t act like adults. “I mean, the last time we tried to talk, you told me you were fucking ‘sorry if you did anything.’ You don’t even know what you have done, let alone what you haven’t.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong because you won’t tell me!” Chris didn’t lower his voice. It was clear at this point he was too lost in his temper to notice something as peripheral as volume. 

Leon schooled his voice into something he’d use on a rowdy kindergartener, as condescending as he could make it. “I don’t tell you anything, Redfield, because you don’t listen. You don’t listen, because you don’t care. You don’t care, because you never did.” 

Leon knew it had to be true, that Chris never cared. He was the idiot to believe that, after everything he's done, anyone would even be able to care about him at this point. Leon’s vision was starting to blur with tears as his composure unraveled at his own admission, but he made himself look up at Chris’s face. He stilled at his expression. 

Leon was not the type of person to have his actions be subject to his emotions. He spent a very long time building an ironclad wall around his heart to prevent anything slipping through, and he was very careful in what he did and did not show to others as a result.

However, in this moment, he couldn't do anything about the overwhelming rage. His whole body was on fire, vibrating down to the very last atom with a righteous heat and fury. He could curse the heavens and earth until the day he died for putting him on this earth just to burn him through with this kind of rage. The only person on the goddamned planet that could melt through those walls was Chris Redfield, who had crashed through them with reckless abandon and didn’t stop to see the damage before moving on. 

Where the fuck did Chris get off looking at him like that?

Chris was the one who had torn out Leon’s heart with his bare fucking hands and he was the one acting like he got hurt. 

Leon couldn't be there anymore. He turned, and with one solid kick, broke down the door. Jill was on the other side.

“What the fuck, Leon?” She exclaimed. 

Leon shoulderchecked her hard without looking and started walking down the hall as quickly as possible, breaking out into a run. He could hear that Chris was shouting after him, calling his name. But Leon could not be fucked for one second longer to listen to a single thing more that Chris fucking Redfield had to say. 

Leon burst into the stairwell to exit the building and down into the parking garage. His bike tires squealed as he peeled out of the garage and into the streets of NYC.

***

Chris fucked up. After his last disastrous conversation with Leon, it was starting to really sink in that a larger part of their conflict than he had realized stemmed from him. He could still list all the things he wished Leon would change, but this was at least half Chris’s fault. He wasn’t just living his life with blinders on; he was avoiding difficult things with the hope that it would save him from drowning. In reality, he had been so blinded that he hadn't noticed Leon was reaching out to him for help. He didn’t realize that what he had been given from Leon’s heart was already more than Leon had ever given anyone else before. Leon begged to know if he was loved because no one had said it to him before. It had hurt, to hear that Leon thought Chris had never cared about him. But Chris couldn’t imagine how much it must have hurt for Leon to think that in the first place.

He had been reckless with Leon. Leon had trusted Chris with himself and he didn't understand what that had meant. He didn't put in the effort to understand what it could mean, or why Leon had been upset in the first place. He wasn't because he didn't love Leon, it's because he didn't know how to love other than the ways he was used to. 

Chris wasn't supposed to be drinking away his problems anymore. He had promised himself that after the death of Piers Nivans. But right now he was deep in a bottle of cheap bourbon while laid out on his sister’s couch. She was understanding enough to realize that right now he didn't need a lecture, but a soft place to land without judgement. 

Claire was out getting them pizza, leaving Chris to wallow alone for 20 agonizing minutes. He wanted to get up and rush after Leon, he wanted to lie down on the floor and die, he wanted to cry his eyes out until it wasn't possible to cry anymore. He would have to settle for having another drink and watching sitcom reruns on TV. Neither of these things were a good distraction. 

A lot of things had gone wrong in Chris’s life. His parents died suddenly when he was a teenager, leaving him scrambling to keep Claire in his care and give her the best life possible. He didn't get to go to college. He got kicked out of the Air Force for insubordination. He joined S.T.A.R.S. only for Wesker to fucking lose it and betray them all. His home was overrun with the dead and all of the people he grew up with and loved were brutally killed and turned to ash in a decimated city. He struggled for decades in a war against bioterrorists who seemed to pop up again and again no matter how many times he cut off the head. He lost countless men, their names and faces burned into his psyche, begging him for help in his frequent nightmares. 

The blinders kept him focused. It was possible to wade through the neck deep suffering if he didn't look down. It was possible to lose everything and get back up again after the dust had settled if he didn't stop to look behind. 

Yet for all of Chris’s problems, he could never fix Leon’s. He wanted to, and he really tried. He wanted to because he thought Leon deserved it. Leon was gentle and kind in a way most didn't realize. It was a burden to be that truly good in this world, and being that good meant that the world would take advantage of it. All he managed to do was hurt him instead. 

Here Chris was in his fucking 40s, trying to learn how to take off the blinders for the first time in a long time. Claire had told him it was something he needed to do for himself, not Leon. She was right, but it sucked so much. It sucked to know that it took breaking Leon’s heart for Chris to understand that he was just as guilty about walling his heart off as Leon was. How did everyone put up with him so far?

Chris placed his half finished glass of bourbon on the coffee table before getting up and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. One step at a time for change, Redfield. 

***

Leon hid out on the fire escape of Jill’s apartment building. She had told him if he tried to bail on Carlos’s birthday party that she'd rip his dick off and he believed her. So he showed up with a case of beer and a fake smile as promised. Everyone knew it wasn't real, but he was at least trying so they couldn't ask him for any more than that. 

He had been in the kitchen when he heard the doorbell followed by that clear baritone ring out through the apartment. Damn it all, he was hoping for more time before Chris got there. Leon was out the kitchen window and onto the fire escape without anyone noticing in less than 30 seconds. 

It was fucking freezing out here. Leon hugged his shoulders as he sank to the ground. Of course he didn't have his jacket on; he didn't expect to be bailing suddenly. If anyone had asked him half an hour before, he would've been adamant that he was able to play nice with Chris and would be present the whole time. But in that moment his body reacted without him, trying to protect him in a misguided flight. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. He just needed a few minutes in the bracing cold and then he'd be perfectly capable of being normal about it all. It doesn't matter how their last conversation went, Leon and Chris would act like adults.

Leon's whole plan went out the window when someone crawled out onto the fire escape with him. He didn't look; he refused to. Not when they landed with a heavy thud and shook the escape with their weight, not when they plopped down next to him with a heavy sigh, not when they spent an agonizingly slow minute struggling out of their jacket. He only turned to peek when they draped their jacket over Leon’s shoulders. 

“Don't need your jacket, Prince Charming.” Leon muttered. He wanted to be snarky, but he honestly didn't have the energy for that. 

“You're shivering out here. We both know you hate the cold and I run like a furnace anyways. But if you really don't want it, then give it back.” Chris responded, sticking a hand out to accept his jacket back. 

Leon didn't answer that, instead pulling it tighter around himself after a strong shudder passed through him. Chris’s jacket was a heavy wool peacoat in black. On Chris, it was well tailored. On Leon, he looked small. Leon resisted the urge to bury his nose in the fabric. He could faintly smell the smoke and pine that was so familiar, and a part of him had to admit he missed it. 

Chris retracted his hand and leaned back, head resting on the brick wall with his eyes closed. Leon glanced at him out of the corner of his eye a few times before clearing his throat. 

“Normally you don't let me sit in silence like this. Nothing to say, Redfield?”

“Nope.” 

Well, what the fuck could Leon say to that? What was Chris even doing out here bothering him if not to lecture him on why Leon had lived his whole life wrong? 

As they sat, the sounds of the party floated outside. Laughing, music, conversation, and kitchen noise outlined how much fun everyone else was having while they were freezing their asses off on cold metal grating. Leon sunk further and further into Chris’s jacket for warmth. 

“You should go in and enjoy yourself.” Leon mumbled out around the wool he buried himself in. 

“What about you?”

“Carlos knows you better anyways. They don't need me in there getting drunk and acting like an asshole.”

“You don't always act like an asshole, you know. We all enjoy your company, Leon. We want to hang out with you.”

Leon turned to look at Chris, who was facing him now with an unreadable look. “‘We?’ Or you?” 

“I always enjoy your company. Even when you go out of your way to try and piss me off.”

“Yeah, that's real believable. That's definitely what I got out of our last conversation.” Leon scoffed. 

“I mean it. Just being next to you is enough for me, at this point. I like being near you.”

“Oh seriously– I'm not having this conversation with you again. We've had it a million times before and every time it ends with a screaming match. Not interested in that right now.” Leon fixed his gaze onto the alley below. 

“We don't have to talk at all. Although I do have things to say. I know this is a lot for me to ask of you, but please, let me say them. You don't have to say anything back, or even pretend to listen, but I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't say them to you in person at least once before I die.”

“You plan on dying?”

“No, but our line of work is dangerous and I won't live forever. I don't want to live the rest of my life with this regret haunting me.”

“It's true, I am very regrettable–”

“Not talking about you, Leon. Honestly, you're one of the best things that's ever happened to me.” Leon could hear Chris shifting in place as he talked. “I… I've done a lot of thinking recently. I know, I know, before you say anything. I didn't know I was capable of that either.” 

Leon snorted at that, but didn’t say anything. 

“I was thinking about why I couldn't understand you. And I really didn't understand you, before. It didn't make any sense to me. The way I saw you and the way you saw yourself were so opposed, I couldn't wrap my head around it. There was simply no way the great Leon S. Kennedy would have doubts like that. I had wanted to fix that somehow. If I could just fix whatever was wrong, then you would be happy and we could, well, we could live happily ever after. It wasn't for a good reason. It was because I wanted that life in that way. It was never about you, it was about me and what I wanted.” Chris stopped to drag a hand down his face. “Fuck, I need a cigarette.”

“You're supposed to be quitting smoking,” Leon said. 

“And you're supposed to have quit drinking years ago.”

“Touché.”

They both remained silent for a minute before Chris continued. 

“I know I can quit any time I want. Not the smoking, but the whole BOW business. I could leave the BSAA, hand in my gun, leave it all to new blood with bright eyes and a dream. I was going to, you know. After Lanshiang. Wanted that agent that was with me there, Piers Nivans, to take my place. He died that night after sacrificing himself to protect me. So how could I, how could I quit? When it's his life I have to uphold now?”

“Chris, you don't–”

“It was his life, the life of the STARS and RPD officers who died in Raccoon City all those years ago, everyone I’ve lost in the field, and every innocent person whose life has been ruined by bioterrorists that I've had to soldier on for. And because of that, I’ve had to shut as much out of everything else as possible. As long as I could somehow force myself to get up after another eventual loss, then I would be able to try. Leon, I thought you were able to try the same way.”

They were facing each other now, close enough that their thighs brushed together. Chris was holding his gaze with a resolute expression. He seemed to have gained confidence from Leon letting him say his piece for so long. Leon felt his own resolve start to waver in the face of Chris’s genuineness. 

Leon loved Chris’s eyes despite how they bored straight through into the core of his heart. They were striking: the right eye a rich satin brown, the left an almost gray steel blue. Leon had spent hours of his life at this point just looking at them, trying to commit every bump and ridge of those irises to memory. He wondered what Chris was thinking about when he stared in such a way. 

“You're a different person than me. I don't know how you cope with what you've seen and I don't think I'd understand if you explained it to me. It was so frustrating to me that you kept pushing me off my track. I just wanted to move forward, eyes forward, with no consideration for the outside world. Because of that, I never really saw you. But you were right about that, even if you didn't mean to be. You were right that I needed to take off the blinders. I'm not doing it for you, or for Claire, or anyone else. I've realized that– shit, Leon. I want to live my life, too. Just a little. In between the sacrifices and the blood and sweat and tears, I wanna live. Find hobbies beyond just going to the gym and working. Go on dates with you. Watch movies you like and listen to you talk about them for hours. Make you watch cringy sitcoms with me. I want to live, and I want to do it with you. No blinders. No bullshit. Just trying.”

Leon felt his throat burning. Chris always said crazy shit like this with the most genuine look on his face. How could Leon possibly accept that? He didn't deserve the kind of life Chris was describing. If he could somehow describe that to Chris, maybe he'd finally leave him alone.

“I… I'm a bad person, Chris. I yelled at you for not caring but I shouldn't have. It's not something I should have expected in the first place. I've been a burden to you our whole relationship and whatever revelation you've had isn't gonna change that.”

“You're calling me Chris again.” 

“Wh– you stupid fucker, that's what you have to say to that?” 

“Leon, would stopping you mid sentence and lecturing you on why none of that is true actually change your mind?”

“...No.”

“That’s what I thought. Leon, I’m not asking you to believe anything, or change how you feel. I’m asking you to try one more time, not for me but for yourself. I know you’ve been asked to try a lot over the years. If this doesn’t work out, then I’ll never bother you again. But at least now, I’m not worried about dying with regrets.” 

“You keep saying that and it’s freaking me out. Please, you have to actually promise me that you’re not secretly dying of some disease that you haven’t told anyone about and you’re gonna drop dead right when I start trying again.”

“I’m not dying.” Chris looked annoyed now. At least Leon knew now that he still got it when it came to pissing off Chris. Chris’s expression quickly shifted to open excitement. “Does that mean you’re gonna try?”

“Oh hell.” Leon buried his face back into Chris’s jacket. This was so strange; his cheeks were burning like he was a fucking teenager. Since when did he react this way with Chris? “Give me a break.”

“Okay. You don't have to answer me tonight. Or any time soon. Just one day, yeah?” Chris patted Leon on the back while standing. “I've already spent enough time out here avoiding the party, so I’m going back in now. Join us whenever you're comfortable.”

Leon remained where he was. It was hard for him to not take whatever Chris said as sarcasm, but he knew that Chris meant what he said genuinely. He always did. He’s not sure how much time had passed before he sat up enough to peek through the kitchen window. Jill was alone in the kitchen, removing a cake from the fridge. Shit, he had to go back in there.

Wrapping Chris’s jacket tightly around him, he stood. As nonchalantly as possible, he climbed back through the kitchen window. Everyone else was in the living room. Jill scowled at him as he reappeared, but didn’t say anything as she stuck candles into the cake. A one and six, in that order. 

“Wow. I can’t believe he’s sixteen already. Just last year, we were celebrating his festa de debutantes.” Leon deadpanned as he picked up a cracker from an abandoned snack plate and shoved it in his mouth with one bite. 

“He’s just growing up so fast, isn’t he? These are the only candles they had left at the store.” Jill retorted as she started rummaging through her drawers. “Where’s my fucking lighter?”

Leon dug into the pockets of the jacket draped over him right now. He wasn’t going to make any sweeping statements about how he happened to know which pocket Chris kept his lighter. Instead, he silently handed it over to Jill, who raised an eyebrow at him. She lit the candles and handed it back. Leon tucked it back in the correct pocket without saying anything. 

Jill picked up the cake and walked into the other room with Leon trailing behind her. The group did a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for Carlos as Jill set the cake in front of him. In the dimmed lights, Leon slinked along the back of the group to an empty chair in the corner. 

When the lights flicked back to full and Jill started to cut the cake, Claire made eye contact with Leon. Her eyes dropped down for a brief second to the coat around his shoulders. She smirked, before looking back up at his face. Leon felt his face flush. He should really take the jacket off, but he didn’t want to for some reason. So instead he rolled the hem of the sleeve in his fingers as Jill handed out cake. She was nice enough to even get him a slice. 

***

Chris paced back and forth in Claire’s apartment. She was currently lounging on her couch with a glass of wine, laughing at Chris. He couldn’t focus on that right now.

“He was really receptive at Carlos’s birthday party. But where the fuck do I go from here, Claire?”

Claire sipped her wine while waving her free hand. “Text or call him, maybe? You guys have dated before.”

“I don't even know if he unblocked me. This time if I fuck it up I think both of us wouldn’t be able to recover. I mean, this past year alone–”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Claire made a face at the memories. “Just give me your phone, idiot.”

Chris fished out his phone from his pocket and dropped it into Claire’s outreached hand. She unlocked it and started scrolling through his contacts.

“Since when do you know my passcode?” Chris asked.

“Since you’ve been using the same one since they added passcodes to phones.” Claire didn’t look up as she spoke. “Okay, I’ve sent a text to Leon.”

“You what?!” Chris’s stomach dropped. He reached forward to try and grab the phone back from Claire, but she twisted out of the way. 

“Do you want the good news or bad news first?”

“Claire, give me back my fucking phone!”

“The good news is that Leon unblocked you. The bad news is that I don’t think he responded well to what I sent him.” Claire frowned as she read the screen. While she was distracted, Chris yanked his phone out of her hand and looked at the screen.

>Hey baby, let’s go on a date.

>Are you serious right now Chris?

>Yeah, I’ll take you out for a nice steak ;)

>Fuck off

>Turning down meat? Uncharacteristic

Chris tried not to panic as he tried to think of a way to turn this around. He hadn’t texted Leon in almost a year now and Claire started him off on the wrong foot already. 

>This is Claire isn’t it

>Give Chris the fucking phone

>Leon I’m so sorry. Claire took my phone.

>I could tell after the emoticon

>You think I can’t do that? Watch this. :-) 

>Look, it has a nose.

>I think I’m going to block you again

>Please don’t. :-(

>Only if I get the steak dinner promised

>I wasn’t the one who promised that. Friday at 8?

>Deal

Chris didn’t realize he was smiling at his phone until he heard Claire snorting from her spot on the couch. “Going well?” 

“Yeah, no thanks to you.” Chris pocketed his phone. “We have a date, I think. On Friday.” 

“Let me guess, steak?” Claire looked smug. 

Chris scowled at her, but they both knew that he wasn’t actually upset. How could he be, when Leon was open to a date with Chris after all this time. 

***

“Leon!” Sherry’s voice crackled to life through the phone. “I heard war is over!” 

“Wh– what does that mean?”

“Claire told me that you and Chris are back together.”

“What the fuck? Why would she say that?”

“Is it not true?”

“Well- we, we’re not- we haven’t–” Leon stopped and took a deep breath. “We haven’t made any decisions on that front. The only thing we’ve agreed on is that I would try.”

“So war is over! Congratulations.” 

Leon could practically hear Sherry’s smile through the phone. He couldn’t be angry at her though, not just because of how much he loved her, but because she was kind of right. She was one of many who suffered through both his and Chris’s bullshit for the past year. Holy shit, it had been almost a year since they had originally broken up, hadn't it. In less than a week it'd be the anniversary. Leon remembered the exact date that he had that legendary fight with Chris that ended with him sobbing to her on the phone while the most drunk he had ever been in his life. 

“Thanks, Sherry. I’m… hopeful. For the first time in a long time. I think Chris and I understand each other now. At least better than before. It doesn’t have to go anywhere for us to be better people.”

“How mature!” Sherry quipped.

“Kiddo, sometimes you say things that drive me up the wall. But you’re allowed to. I’m older than you, just remember that.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just know that I’m proud of you. And Chris.” 

“Well, I’m sure Chris appreciates it as much as I do. Are we still on for this weekend?”

“Yep! Jake and I will be over there on Saturday.” 

“Okay great. Listen Sherry, I’ve got to go. But I’ll see you then.”

“Bye!”

With that, Leon hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He was currently sitting on his bike in the BSAA parking garage. He didn’t call ahead to let Chris know he was there ahead of time; he wasn’t the type to give Chris any warning. 

Leon waltzed past the security without stopping and rode the elevator up to Chris’s office. He gave a little wave to Jill as he passed her nursing a cup of coffee at the end of the hall. She rolled her eyes back at him, but he could see a small smile as she drank from her mug. He gave a single warning knock before immediately barging into Chris’s office. 

It was cramped inside. Wooden wall panels made up the majority of the room with a set of bookshelves behind an ornate wooden desk. Two simple chairs sat in front of the desk. One wall panel was a floor to ceiling window showing New York City. 

Chris looked up at the intrusion, smiling when he saw Leon. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Leon closed the door behind him and flopped down in one of the chairs. “It’s always what are you doing here and how did you get in, never ‘how are you, Leon?’” 

Chris chuckled at that, pushing the report on his desk to the side. “How are you, Leon?”

“Great, thanks for asking.” Leon leaned back in the chair, tipping it on its back legs and putting his feet up on Chris’s nice desk. “What are you up to today?”

“Writing reports, which seems to be the majority of my job these days.” Chris sighed. 

“Hmm. Do you wanna ditch and go get breakfast with me?” Leon looked out Chris’s window while asking, studying the city below. 

“Leon, it’s 3pm in the afternoon.” 

“So are you saying no?” Leon glanced at Chris from the corner of his eye.

“I also have to finish this report.” Chris placed his hand on the report he had been working on. 

Leon turned back to look at Chris, tipping his chair back onto all fours. “What happened to the whole ‘live my life, go on dates’ thing you were gonna start doing?”

Chris stared in silence for a few moments. Leon swallowed nervously with the hope that Chris wouldn't bring up the date they were supposed to be having that Friday. Chris broke out into a grin. “You’re right.” He stood and circled the desk, holding out a hand for Leon. Leon matched Chris’s smile while taking his hand. 

“You’re paying, right?” Leon asked as he stood. 

“I thought they paid you well with that government salary?”

“Well, that is true. But it’s classy to pay for your date’s meal.” 

“And you’re not classy?”

“Not in the slightest.” 

Chris only nodded at that. He didn’t let go of Leon’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Leon gave Chris a skeptical look. 

“Do you think there are gonna be any consequences to prancing through the BSAA HQ while holding hands? Especially with our track record?”

“Nope. No complaints. From you or anyone else.”

“If you think you can enforce that, then go ahead big guy.”

They walked down to the lobby hand in hand with Chris swinging their arms the whole way down. If anyone had any thoughts on the matter, they were smart enough to not show it on their faces. 

Chris seemed to know where they were going as they weaved through the city streets. They walked in comfortable quiet for most of the trip before Leon spoke up. 

“Do you know what’s in a week?” Leon asked. 

“Hmm? No, what is it?” Chris remained looking forward as they walked. Leon could tell most of his attention was still on trying to get them to their destination.

“The one year anniversary of our breakup.” Leon could see Chris raise his eyebrows while looking at him on the edge of his vision, but Leon kept his gaze on the ground to avoid eye contact. 

“Didn’t realize that. Is that a date you wanted to remember?” 

“No, it was a date I couldn’t forget, actually.” 

“Yeah. I remember you breaking up with me, that’s for sure.” 

“I didn’t want to.”

“I know. Leon, let’s discuss this later. I know you want to talk more about our relationship and where we’re going with it, but let me just take you out for breakfast this time, okay?” Chris’s voice was gentle. In the past, Leon would feel guilty that Chris had to use it on him, but part of trying was allowing others to care about him in that way. 

“Okay.” Leon was feeling a little depressed about the anniversary anyways. He needed a good plate of pancakes and a black coffee to feel better. 

***

Chris sipped his coffee while Leon was in the restroom, thanking the waitress as she stopped by to clear their plates. Thank god for all day breakfast diners so he can treat Leon any time. 

Leon shuffled back into his seat after returning, wrapping his hands around his mug. He kept his eyes fixed on the table while he chewed his lip. Chris knew that this meant Leon was thinking too hard about something. The old Chris would have outright asked what was wrong so he could go into problem-solving mode. This time, he would try something different.

“Claire told me that she and Sherry were gossiping about us.” Leon looked up at that. “I don’t like being gossiped about, but for the past year I think that our relationship was their drama.” 

Leon nodded absentmindedly at that as he proceeded to dump multiple sugar packets into his coffee. 

“That much sugar is bad for you.” Chris lightly chastised.

Leon scoffed at that, bringing the mug to his lips for a sip. “You’re no better with your bad habits.”

“Nope. But I’m planning on us both growing old together and that requires us both to get our acts together.”

“What, are you saying you’re finally gonna stop smoking?”

Chris only smiled at that as he pulled out a small tin and shook it. 

“Wow, nicotine gum. So you keep the addiction and don’t even get to look cool while doing it.” Leon leaned back into the squeaky plastic booth. Chris could see he was considering whether he was about to say something or not, so he gave him the space to decide. “I’m… I’m trying to quit drinking. Not all the way but, enough.”

“That’s great, Leon. Look at us, growing up.”

“We’re old men, Chris. We can’t grow up anymore.”

“Grow up, change, whatever we wanna call it. Either way, we’re better off for it.” 

“Well, when I grow up, I wanna be a race car driver.” 

Chris laughed at that. “Only if I get to be an astronaut.”

“Astronaut, didn’t expect that from you.”

“It was part of the dream, from a long time ago. Be on the edge of exploration and discovery for all of humanity. Then my parents died and I had to get my act together for Claire. Joined the air force with a little bit of hope left in me before getting discharged. Haven't thought about it since.” 

“I never knew that. Discharged for what?”

“Insubordination.” 

Leon snorted at that and ducked his head. Chris could see him smiling behind his bangs. “Typical of you. Couldn't take orders from someone else. Always loved being in charge, huh?”

“Yep.” 

They sat in silence for some time after that. Chris wanted to push so badly, but that was the wrong thing to do. From what he's picked up from being around Leon (and what was drilled into his head by Claire), the most important thing for Leon was giving him space to exist without letting him get lost in his own head. Chris was strangely okay with that. He still wanted to solve problems while barrelling through life, but Leon was right that sometimes they just needed to slow down a little. 

Chris would make himself relax. He would go out on pancake dates with Leon in the middle of the day instead of burning the candle at both ends for work. And even if they didn’t work out, he’ll be damned if he didn’t try his best. 

***

Leon trudged through the door to the house. He didn’t flick on the lights, instead opting to try to unlace his boots in the darkness, swearing softly under his breath. His duffel bag dropped to the floor beside him as he managed to kick them off. 

“Late again, Kennedy. You know, I'll have to start docking points for tardiness.” Leon looked up to see Chris leaning in the doorway to the living room. 

“Yeah yeah, I think I’ll still have a passing grade though.” He waltzed over, hands reaching up and looping around Chris’s neck. “Well?”

Chris gave him that goofy grin of his while his arms wrapped around Leon’s waist. “Whatever you want, always.” 

“Wow, I have such an understanding boyfriend.” At that, Chris ducked down and kissed him. Leon smiled against the kiss as he returned it. When they finally pulled apart, he spoke against Chris’s ear, hands finding their ways into his short cropped hair.  “Nice to come home to such a welcoming committee.” 

At that, Chris hoisted Leon up despite the noise of protest he made, burying his face in Leon’s neck as he walked them to their bedroom. Leon felt the climb of anticipation in the pit of his stomach and clutched Chris’s shoulders tightly, when suddenly Chris made a detour to the master bath. Despite how gently he had cradled Leon in his arms, he dropped him somewhat unceremoniously on the bathroom counter.

“I love you more than I can possibly describe to you, Leon. But you need a shower first.” 

Leon sighed dramatically, standing and starting to strip. “I guess I could do that. Would be a lot easier and faster if I had help.”

“Hmm. I could probably guarantee it’d be slower.” Chris’s tone was joking. Leon didn’t need to convince him as Chris was already pulling off his shirt.

Leon set the water temperature before stepping into their large glass shower. Chris slid in behind him, grabbing the shampoo bottle. One of Leon’s most favorite things in the world now was how Chris would wash his hair. His nails scratched Leon’s scalp in all the right ways. He leaned back against Chris’s broad chest, eyes fluttering closed and sighing. 

At some point Chris’s hands left his head and moved down with practiced precision. He was definitely an efficient soldier, scrubbing off grime and dirt quickly. Leon couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at it all. He wanted to fuck, not actually get a good shower. As a hand brushed down the back of his thighs, he grabbed it, placing it on his hip. 

Leon turned to peek over his shoulder with the most innocent and pleading look he could muster. “Chris, please. You’ll take care of me, won’t you?” 

He knew he won when Chris’s pupils blew wide. Little Leon cheered. 

Chris took a deep breath through his nose, before resting his forehead on Leon’s shoulder. “You just got home from a mission. Just relax, okay?”  Little Leon booed. 

“Come on Chris, it’s well known that sex is a great stress reliever.” 

“So is a shower and a good night's rest.” 

“You’re such a parent.” Leon let his head fall back onto Chris’s chest, staring at the ceiling. 

“Are you gonna start calling me daddy, then?”

“I was thinking a mother hen.” 

“Hmm. Don’t call me that, please.” 

“Only ‘cause you asked me so nicely.” The fight was starting to leave Leon as he finally relaxed. 

Chris turned off the water and reached out of the shower for their towels. After patting them both down, he swept Leon up in his arms and walked him back out to the bed, dropping him on the sheets. He rummaged through their dresser for fresh clothes as Leon stretched out across their king bed. Chris tossed Leon’s pajamas next to him before getting into his own. By the time Chris was ready for bed, Leon had successfully pulled on only his boxers before crawling under the covers and rolling over.

Leon felt the bed dip behind him as Chris joined him under the blanket, an arm snaking around his waist. 

“Are you sure we can’t fuck?” Leon mumbled. He was already falling asleep when he asked the question. 

Chris’s low laugh rumbled through his whole body. Leon was certain Chris was saying something to him right now, but Leon was already asleep.