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The first time you hold Leon's hand, he doesn't know what to do. You were his current mission objective, and his purpose was to keep you safe and bring you to the extraction point. Hand holding was not and is not something ever requested or required of him. Sure, sometimes he would hold a kids hand when he was extracting them, but it was more of a mechanism for protection and safety than it was for their comfort, though Leon knew that often, holding the kids hands helped them feel safer. He didn't mind that, but it wasn't ever the reason he did it. He just found that it was easier to keep track of kids that way, and only did it when he couldn't just carry the children.
Protection had never meant affection in any way. At least not usually. And besides, you weren't a kid. So hand holding or carrying would be, generally speaking, extremely unusual. But he liked you. Your conversations, the way you would lean into him when scared, how you looked to him for protection while also being a strong, grounded adult.
You don't even think about it when you shove your hand into his, crouched down next to him, peeking around the corner, both of you staring intently at the two blisterheads, the first of these kinds of zombies that you'd seen, with their jerky, erratic movements, their soft, sinister growls, and their unnaturally blown up, cranium heavy heads. Your hand just simply- finds his, heart pounding and muscles tense with anxiety. You do it automatically, like you'd always held his hand, like your hand belonged in his, like it was the right place to be. Granted, you'd probably hold your enemies hand if they were next to you too, but it wouldn't feel as safe.
When your hands interlace, Leon doesn't flinch or move. He simply adjusts. He is far too tactically trained for a behavior like that, especially in a situation where he's dealing with flinch-happy creatures like these monsters. But boy is he surprised. He glances at you out of the periphery of his vision. "you okay?" he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble. Most of his attention stays focused on the blisterheads, who haven't yet noticed either of you. Both of you are doing your best to keep it that way.
You nodded, not trusting your voice, your hand squeezing onto his even tighter.
Using his free hand, Leon pulls Requiem quietly from its holster, and aims the gun carefully. His hand moves with practiced confidence, the lines of his muscles flexing as he straightens it and points, lining both creatures up in the line of fire. When he's happy with his aim, he shoots once, the bullet slicing through both of their heads as if made of tofu. A spray of blood paints the rubble around the now twice-dead blisters. Leons lip twitches, a small smile flickering there. "Heh. Two blisters, one bullet." He does not let go of your hand as he holsters his gun once more, his eyes sweeping the perimeter of the building, checking to see if the noise would attract more creatures or if that was it. You stay quiet as he does so, keeping your eyes peeled as well.
"I think we're okay. For now at least." He says, his other hand grabbing your elbow to help you as you stand up.
"Thank fuck." You say, dusting some of the powdery cement that had landed on your cargo pants.
"Those things were scary."
Leon can't resist a smile when you say that, checking his comms for the to figure out the best place to. "The blisters? Nah. They're just irritating. Like hemmoroids. Can't get off my ass."
You let out a little snort of laughter, your residual fear slowly disappearing. Agent Ashrcroft's voice flickers through the comm as Leon asks for an update. "Leon, theres a safe house a couple blocks down from where you two are located. You can rest there for the night. I've sent the details to your device. Over. Will communicate more when you reach the safe house."
Leon nods. "Lets go." He says to you. He glances down at your intertwined hands once but doesn't say anything more. He doesn't let go, just starts to walk, his comm shoved back in his pocket, clearly knowing his way around here.
It was Raccoon City, after all, and he had said, in one of the brief moments where you got him to talk about himself, that he was from here. You glance around. Not a single building here was still fully intact. Roofs slopped, caving in. Clothing dirty and tossed. Cars abandoned, full of supplies rotting and useless.
It must be hard, you mused. Seeing the place he knew so torn up. You squeeze his hand, almost as if to comfort him, and he squeezes back on autopilot, his focus on ensuring that you get through the rubble and buildings to a safe place without dying. Leon is constantly on alert, his eyes always scanning the area. He was good at his job, you'll give him that. And you would miss him when this job was over, which was odd to say because these had literally been some of the worst days of your life.
The two of you make it to the safe house with no serious trouble, and you finally let go of his hand, almost regretfully, missing the warmth and comfort immeadiately as you guys set up camp.
"Time to rest." Leon says. He takes some of his guns and weapons off, resting them to his sides. But Requiem, he keeps on him. His hatchet, which he takes care to sharpen and clean, wiping flakes of dried blood off. You watch him cleaning methodically, the motion repetitive and soothing, finding yourself staring at his hands. It had been awful nice to hold them. You find yourself wishing you had another excuse to hold his hand.
As the two of you dig into some canned tuna and stale saltines, a comfortable silence fills the air. You finally allow yourself to take a breath, knowing that in this area, you were at least safe for the night. Or that was the hope, anyways. You felt calm, with the little lamp buzzing softly, the two sleeping bags rolled out, yours on the small twin bed, Leons on the floor, despite your numerous offers to let him have the twin bed instead.
No no, ever the gentlemen, he simply says. "take the bed. i prefer the floor anyways. harder to sneak up on." you want to argue with his logic, but then decide that its not worth your time, and simply accept his offer of kindness.
You look up from your sad meal of tuna flakes to see him staring at you, his gaze burning a hole in your skin. It shocks you, the intensity of his gaze. You can't help but wonder what he's thinking when he stares like that. He glances away once he notices your gaze, and the moment passes as he stands up to check that the place is secure one more time before its time to sleep.
After the food and a simple washing up, you curl into your sleeping bag. it is nice to sleep on top of a bed again, you have to admit, the softness feeling foriegn after your abduction. Even though you can feel the springs hidden in the thin mattress, a twin bed has never felt more comforting and beautiful in your entire life.
"Thanks for letting me have the bed, Leon." You murmur, voice thick from tiredness.
"Glad you're comfortable." Is is simple reply, as he unzips his sleeping bag and settles in himself.
"Good night." You murmur, already drifting off. Leon turns off the little lamp with a soft click.
"Good night." He replies back. "Sleep well."
__
As the two of you are walking down the city streets the next morning, you actually find it quite peaceful. You really shouldn't, you suppose, but its been a couple of mornings like this and knock on wood, nothing too terrifying had happened in the mornings. The cold seemed to make the creatures go mildly dormant. Or perhaps they were more nocturnal than anything. You weren't sure. But whatever it was, mornings had always been relatively peaceful.
"Leon," You say, as the two of you walk over a bridge that feels like it may soon collapse beneath your feet, creaking and groaning. "Do you like what you do?"
"What I do?" He repeats, sparing you a quick glance, before it returns to scanning the horizon for dangers. He kicks a crushed soda can, the label long deteriorated.
"It seems like such a tough job. Mentally and physically." You say simply. "And so dangerous."
"It helps people." He replies back. "And I have more personal reasons as well." His eyes flick down to his gloved hand.
"I see." You reply. You don't want to pry.
"I've lost people." He continues quietly. "Seen people lost. Seen people gone. Watched people turn. It is a mercy, to take these people out of their misery. They're in pain, you know. They're supposed to be dead but they aren't, not fully, not yet. It is a mercy. A kindness."
He still refers to them as people sometimes, you note. Interesting for someone who has been at the hand of so many of their deaths.
"And, if I can save one more person whose alive? It's worth it. All the shit i deal with. I can't save em all." His face tenses at that, and he actually stops for a second, his gaze far off in the distance, lost in a memory.
"But I can try."
"Can't make killing some of these people easier though. Even if you save a few."
Leon shrugs at that. "Maybe not. But I've always been confident that what I've done has been the right thing. Even back when I was a starry-eyed recruit for the Raccoon City Police Department."
Leon actually laughs for a second, taking your hand and helping you over a large pile of rocks. "Technically this is breaking client confidentiality, but I don't think she'd care. I helped this kid: Sherri. A long time ago. She helped me too, more than she knew then. More than she knows now."
He reaches into his back pocket, behind his hatchet, and pulls out a sleek black wallet, which he flips open. You see a blonde girl, dressed in blue graduation regalia, her smile bright and sunny.
"This was her high school graduation. She sent me this picture." Leons smile softens as he looks at Sherri. "She got to graduate because of me."
"I don't always know how the people I save turn out. But I never regret it. Even saving one person."
"Oh man," You say softly. "Thats so beautiful. I kind of thought you just liked beating zombies up."
Leon lets out a huff of laughter. "It is satisfying in it's own way."
You squeeze his hand lightly. He blinks in surprise, glancing down at your hand, which has once again found his. "Thanks for sharing."
He doesn't say anything, but he does squeeze your hand in return. And if your heart fluttered the tiniest bit at that, that was no ones buisness.
--
A couple days later, the two of you are walking to the next safehouse, later than you'd usually be out. There had been more zombies than usual out crawling, and Agent Ashcroft had insisted that you move now, even though it was late at night.
Leon had been more open with you than usual, talking more, sharing more, and you can't help but think that you were going to miss him when this was over. A plant rustles menacingly and you can't help but grab his arm.
He glances over, hand coming to rest more securely in yours. "You scared?"
You nod. He pulls out his gun with his free hand. "I'll keep you safe." He says. "You can trust me."
"I know."" You reply, without a single thought, already feeling better with your arm wrapped around his. Its softer than you'd thought, less muscled almost. "I trust you."
The barest hint of a smile makes its way to his face. "Good. You should."
He guides you through the rest of the way to the safe house with one hand, the lamp secured to the strap on his breastpocket, lighting the way. Although you hadn't laced your hands together, he does it for you, grabbing your hand and meshing them together, your arm tucked still in the crook of his elbow. He squeezes your hand absentmindedly sometimes, as he continues to walk, almost as if to check in, make sure you knew that he was still there, still protecting you, still your safe space in this dark night.
He smells good, you realize. Even though he really shouldn't, not after all the days you've spent with barely any ability to stay hygenic. But he does. Not in cologne kind of way, though sometimes a faint trace of whatever colonge he usually wears drifts through the air, but more in the human kind of way, the natural scent each individual human has, indescribable in its uniqueness. It's soothing. You have to resist the urge to tell him this, even though he probably wouldn't care. Maybe, just maybe you have the tiniest crush on him, and you feel like saying that might make it very obvious.
Regretfully, the two of you do in fact reach the safe house, and, no longer having an excuse to hold on to him, you release him from your grip, immeadiately missing the comfort of holding onto him. He almost seems reluctant for you to let go, looking down at your hands as you pull your arm away.
But neither of you say anything.
--
Today, you are blessed with a can of spaghetti bolognese. Or, you think more honestly, a can of something that vaugely resembles that. It's got tomatoes in it, and perhaps it smells a little bit like beef, but it's not exactly...well. But it is a meal, and you are appreciative.
Leon sits across from you. You're lucky enough that this safe house has two beds, so he's placed most of his stuff down on one bed, the one nearer to windows and doors, and yours is more inside.
"You know," You say. "I'm going to miss this after its over."
Leon drags his metal fork through the can of gummy spaghetti. "Miss this." He huffs out a small laugh. "Now thats not one I've heard before. Want to explain?"
"Well..." And the rest of the words exit your mouth before you can stop it. "I'm going to miss spending time with you."
"With me?" He says, his smile twisting upward a little as he makes eye contact. "Really?"
"Yeah." You say. "You're..."
Sweet. Funny. Charming. Protective. Thoughtful. Handsome. Clever. Strong.
"Kind." You land on. "And also really cool." Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you hope he can't see it in the golden glow of the lamp.
"You think I'm cool?" He asks, and you see Leon Kennedys face light up for the first time as he teases you a little.
You can't help the smile that comes to your face. "Don't let it get to your head."
He takes a bite of potential spaghetti. "You're...cool too." He pauses. "And sweet."
The two of you stare at each other, the lamp flickering and buzzing softly in the background, illuminating you with a warm glow. A tension, a good tension is flowing, ebbing, reaching a breaking point, sparking sharply in your veins and you think its going to burst, and he opens his mouth to say something when his comm buzzes and you startle.
He pulls his comm out, a little short when he replies, his mouth set in a tight line, irritated at having to do anything but talk to you.
"A little busy, Grace. Is it urgent?"
Graces voice crackles through the comm. "Adas on the line. She wants to talk." Leons eyebrows raise.
"Ada wants to talk, huh?" He smiles a little. "Alright, give me a second."
He walks to the makeshift bathroom to get a little privacy, but you can still hear the muffled sounds of a conversation. He sounds surprisingly animated and your heart sinks a little bit. Of course he would have a girl back home. It made a lot of sense. He was handsome, thoughtful, kind. You'd sort of thought the two of you were having a moment back there, but clearly you'd been reading the situation wrong.
Leon laughs from the other room, and you can't help but feel a little rejected. You know its not this womans fault, that she was probably awesome and amazing and wonderful, but you really liked Leon.
And fine, you did have a crush on him. Could anyone blame you?
But, you decide, as he comes back, it was his life to live. And you hoped that he lived it well.
You are in your sleeping bag, on the bed and ready to sleep by the time he comes back from the conversation. You'd give yourself a day to lick your wounds, and then accept things as they were. You had already curled up.
Leon pauses at your "sleeping figure" turned away from him, whispering your name softly. You don't reply. Pretending to sleep was your new plan, not just to be in bed already. You can hear his footsteps approach where you are sleeping, and with gentle, gentle hands, he takes the hair that has fallen in your face and brushes it carefully behind the curve of your ear, leaving a trail of shivers going down your spine, the pads of his fingers rough and callous, but the touch itself impossibly soft. He says your name again. When you don't reply, he sighs and flicks off the light.
"Sleep well." He says, and you hear him settle into his sleeping bag.
Your eyes open in the pitch black darkness, his touch lingering on your skin, burning a hole in your stomach. You weren't sleeping tonight.
--
Only one more day to the extraction. You take solace in this, even if it means traveling at night again, and even if it means saying goodbye to Leon after this mission. After he sends you back to safety, even though honestly, you've found so much safety in his company that you'll miss him no matter what. Even if he did have a thing with an amazing girl named Ada.
So tonight, you are going to brave the streets alone. No holding his hand. No grabbing his arm. Not that you should have been, but by the end, maybe you had thought of it as a sort of cute, romantic thing to do. Yes, you did do it because you were scared, but also because you liked holding his hand. It felt warm and calloused, but so so comforting.
For the first 30 minutes out after dark, this works out just fine. You just had to make it to the safe house, you encourage yourself. Just the safe house, then traveling to the nearby helipad and you would be on your way back home, to your safe, warm bed, and your lovely lovely little dog. You hoped your roommate was taking care of Engel.
But then Leons flashlight casts a suspicious shadow, and you jump twenty miles into the air, a squeal far too loud for a situation like this escaping your mouth. Your hand reaches out to grab Leons, but at the last second you curve it back to cover your mouth instead. You could do this.
"Sorry," You whisper, trying to keep your voice down.
"Happens." Leon says, scanning your surroundings, his hand hovering over Requiem. He glances over at your hand casually, but you don't reach to grab his. Honestly, you feel a little awkward after what had gone on, what with Ada, and as much as you would like to grab his hand, you were very stubborn and very embarrassed, and it was a potent combination that prevented you from doing anything else.
The two of you continue your journey, but you are much more on alert, and very regretful at your promise to yourself to not hold his hand, which you desperately wanted to do. You walk in the dark, quietly.
A couple minutes later, Leon holds his hand up, indicating for you to stop. Hand signals were far safer than speaking at this time of night, and you stop immediately, waiting to see what he's going to do. He takes out his gun, holding it in his right hand and then pauses, seeming to be in debate about something. Were you coming up on some very unsafe underpass? You weren't sure but you were also very confident that even if you were, Leon would be able to keep you safe. In some way shape or form. It would just double suck to not be able to hold his hand.
You are in your little deliberations so long that Leon has to cough lightly to get your attention. You look up, mildly startled, and see that hes been holding his free hand out to you.
You blink at him, almost confused. Does he want you to hold his hand? Why? You were scared and happy but still, before you had started to grasp onto his hand, he had never offered to hold yours.
"You don't have to," You say, feeling a little awkward, almost as if you'd been too seen, like he'd know that you liked holding his hand, not just cause it was protection, but that you liked the feel of his hand in yours, like walking beside him. All of those things. It almost felt like you bared your soul a little bit, and then found out about Ada, which was just embarrassing, honestly.
He sighs, shifting his weight back and forth. "I know that." He says back, making eye contact with you. You feel his gaze on you, something akin to desire in them.
"Oh." You say softly. And he's won. You reach your hand out to put in his. They mesh together, and you breathe an unconscious sigh of relief. A little smile flickers on his face.
"You find me that safe?" He asks quietly, his voice barely a murmur as you start to walk.
"I'm not dignifying that with an awnser." You breathe back, deliberately focusing your eyes on the road.
"Alright." He says back, but there's a smugness in his voice that makes you want to punch him, just the tiniest bit. Or perhaps kiss him. It was really up for debate.
--
Dinner that night is very quiet. Tonight you get to eat beef stew, with chunks of what might have once been potatoes and carrots mixed in as well.
Both of you are thinking about this ending. About having to say goodbye. It's not a pleasant thought, and that is somehow insane to you.
After all, you'd been abducted, held hostage, and then verbally harassed for days on end with little food or water. And then Leon had come in, and within a couple minutes, you'd been untied, seen your captors beaten up, and been on your way home. Or, you guessed, it did make sense that you'd like Leon. But for him, it was just a normal Tuesday. It just also majorly sucked that you liked Leon. What could you possibly say to him at the end of this?
Hey, just in case you aren't majorly in love with Ada, would you like to go out with the hostage you saved? We've already lived with one another, so I think we might be pretty well suited for each other. Anyways let me know what you think. I'd give you my number but I think its in my case file, along with other information that I think you probably shouldn't know about me. But hey, who's counting, amirite?
Anyhow. That was sort of all you could think of and it really wasn't great. So... it was quiet. He was such an interesting person too. The kind of person you'd simply love to know more about.
But all you could simply hope for in this case was that he did have someone lovely waiting for him back home. You'd not seen a ring, but that didn't mean he wasn't promised to someone.
You finish washing up, getting ready to go to bed. There were two beds today, and you had the more interior one, as usual. You curl up in your bed as Leon comes back from washing up as well, his hair slightly damp in an undecently handsome way.
"Good night Leon," You say as he flicks off the lamp. "I'll miss you." You add quieter.
"You too." He replies, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
--
A loud noise jolts you out of your sleep, and you are immediately on edge. It's too dark to be morning, so you quickly roll out of your sleeping bag and rummage around for the lamplight, flicking it on with fumbling hands.
It's Leon. He's covered in cold sweat, his face beaded with little droplets and scrunched up against some unknown fear. You tap his shoulder lightly, shake him, and yell his name, but nothing seems to pull him out of this dream that has gotten a hold of him.
Feeling desperate and a little delirious, you reach out and grab one of his hands, lacing your fingers together, very aware that he could accidentally throw a punch that would absolutely break your nose the closer you got to him. If you couldn't wake him up, maybe you could calm him down? Hopefully. Dear god.
His breathing slows a little as you hold his hand. You sit down on the edge of his sleeping bag that has been shoved off with movement, holding his hand and staring at the gun he has stored on the floor next to him.
Figuring this couldn't hurt, you edge closer to him, now sitting on the bed with him. His breathing is still heavy, and he seems to be in distress. You weren't going to push any boundaries by getting any closer, however.
Leon has other plans. In his sleep, his hand farther from you ends up flopping over your stomach as he sort of curls into you. His breathing is deepening though, so despite this being the most awkward position you've ever been in, for a multitude of reasons, you let it slide. Besides, it was almost like cuddling with him. Almost. Just a little bit.
You tap gently him on the shoulder one more time, testing his lucidity. Still asleep. There is no reaction to your tap, though you suppose with Leon there never would be. He was too good at managing his reactions for safety reasons. Besides, you think mildly, shifting your body so that you were very clearly just sitting next to him despite one of his arms being wrapped around you.
You sit there with him as he sleeps, not wanting him to become distressed again. What the fuck is happening?
"Leon. Leon!" You whisper.
Finally he lets out a small, sleepy moan. "Mmm. What?"
Well...at least he was awake, even if he wasn't entirely conscious.
"You-doing okay now?"
"From-what?" And you have a sudden realization that hits you like a truck. Hes- hes allowing himself to be sleepy around you. Must be allowing himself to, because he's so aware. So so aware. Had to be, for his job.
"Don't worry about it." You murmur. And as much as you don't want to, you realize that its probably just about time to go back to your own sleeping bag. "Alright. Goodnight."
You peel his hand off of you as gently as you could, trying not to distress him, while simultaneously not letting go of the hand you were still holding.
As you slowly remove his hand, it suddenly tightens imperceptibly, and he's pulling you in by the waist. Your breath catches, and you are wide awake now, finding yourself curled up against Leon Kennedy.
"Stay." He murmurs, his voice thick and soft. "Please."
"Okay." You whisper. His eyes stay shut, his breathing even and slow. It deepens out eventually, and you reach over to turn off the lamp, but not before you stare at him with unfiltered ache. His flaxen hair, messed up and flopped everywhere. His face so young and unstrained in sleep. His eyelashes, blonde in colour. You could stare at him for ages and you weren't sure you'd ever get another chance. He was so beautiful, so gentle, so kind, and you could feel your self falling for him. Just a little.
Your eyes start to feel heavy, and you know you are going to fall into the thick, warm recesses of sleep soon. Your head droops onto his shoulder and you curl into him a little, abandoning all pretenses. His arms go to wrap around you, enveloping you in his strong, warm embrace.
It's the best night of sleep you've gotten in a while.
--
The next day, things move too fast. Too fast. Leon is gone by the time you wake up. You are glad for this, honestly. Breakfast is quiet, though he does say thanks once, to which you nod and say of course. Its not as awkward as you'd think. Almost as if you'd always been like this, the two of you. It's a terribly domestic thought at you force yourself to push it away. It's a short walk in the cool morning to where the helicopter is waiting. Leon lifts you into it without a second thought.
Ada ends up being the one whose piloting the helicopter, and my god, you can't even blame Leon for being in love with her. Shes gorgeous, she can pilot, and shes got amazing style? Who wouldn't fall in love with her? She was also terribly nice to you, giving you her coat, which smelled expensive, and a small kiss on the cheek. Leon's face brightens when he sees her, and she holds her hand out.
You look away, refusing to admit that it was a little painful to see, but also point blank refusing to look as Leon probably kissed her hand.
"Never thought I'd see the day." Leon says.
Ada just laughs. "Neither did I. But we can talk about this later. Lets get her home."
You were glad for the little time you had gotten with Leon.
You cant hear anything with the blades whirring above your head, and you can't stop thinking about last night. The way his hand tightened around you. The way his breathing blew softly against your neck, the warmth of his body against yours. The feeling of resting your head against another's shoulder, the knowledge that you were being held, that he had wanted you to help him sleep. What had all of it meant? Was it really nothing?
And then its over. You're back home. In your native country. Leon helps you, his hands grasping your waist and making sure you don't fall off the helicopter. You open your mouth to say something. Thanks seems too small, and I will miss you horrendously seems too big in the light of day.
And unfortunately, barring a better thing to say, your brain decides on: "Thanks, miss." Combining the two potential statements into an equally terrible sentence.
Leons lips quirk up into a little half smile. "Miss?"
You wince. "Sorry, I was trying to say thanks and I'll miss you a lot all at the same time. I fucked it."
"Why...would you miss me?" He asks, sounding confused. Now you're the one whose confused.
"Well- this is the last I'm gonna see of you, isn't it?"
"It is?" Leon asks back, surprised. He runs a hand through his hair, a nasty thing to do to you. "I don't really have a next mission planned, and I kind of thought we hit it off. Just a little."
You laugh, a little exasperated.
"Well...you've got Ada, and I cant-"
Leons face scrunches up and he looks even more confused. "What do you mean I've got Ada?"
"Cmon, Leon, you took her call and then you took her hand earlier and-"
"Ada's a lesbian. She's marrying our coworker, Claire Redfield. I was congratulating her both times. She's a very dear friend."
Oh! Oh.
"You thought we were- no. In the best way possible, Ada and I are meant to be friends. I was actually going to- uh- if you wanted to, ask you to be my plus one to her wedding."
"Oh! I mean-yes! I mean sorry- I assumed- should-"
"And then, I was going to do this." He pulls you closer to him by your waist, one hand coming to rest in your hair, the other on your jaw, rubbing a gentle pattern.
He kisses you gently, your mouths fitting together and melding like they had always been meant to find each other. It is soft, simple and sweet.
Both of you are dirty, tired, and honestly, could smell better.
And it is still the best moment of your life.