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The clock on Chris’s bedside drawer reads a cruel seven, at least to himself. The night’s been restless, and he found himself constantly watching his phone for any notifications, any change of mind from the man that runs around his mind like he does during fights on the field, fast and nearly out of his reach yet so unforgettable.
Claire would be cackling if he texted her anything more about the situation, but Chris thinks he’s done already making a fool of himself towards his sister about Leon Kennedy of all people.
Today’s officially the day Leon Kennedy moves inside Chris’s house. Permanently, at least as permanently as a house gets when you’re sent out on jobs on a consistent enough basis to not care too much for one. He understands that throughout their situationship and the brief beginning of their actual relationship that Leon didn’t keep much to himself because of how often he would have to be deployed or moved for security reasons. Still, he wanted to make sure that the house actually felt like a home for Leon rather than just Chris’s home.
-+-
“So, what better than making the man some breakfast?” Claire suggested to him days ago. Her shades were down as she adjusted her red leather jacket, getting ready to drive off on her motorcycle after their biweekly lunch.
“I don’t think I can cook him some gourmet food to convince him to stay, Claire.” Chris complained. His matching jacket didn’t fit him anymore as it did when he was in S.T.A.R.S., but he makes a point to still bring it along now to their sibling outings, especially after it was found by Leon himself on his reluctant return to Raccoon City. “Plus, what if I end up looking too eager?”
“You sent Hound Wolf Squad for him just out of the intel you got from Sherry. I think that looked eager enough for me. Look, worst case I’ll drive over with some leftovers if you burn your kitchen down, but I think you cook well enough and that Leon would eat anything you make.” Claire rolled her eyes. Chris noticed it easily, and gave her a nice flick on the head.
“Ow! Still hurting me even after I just recently recovered from that syndrome too, you’re too cruel nowadays since you started being called Alpha of all things..” She pouts at him, then laughs. Chris felt his face redden in embarrassment, and opted to completely walk away and remove himself from the entire conversation.
“I’ll text you how it goes. Please don’t leave me hanging if Leon ends up breaking my heart over my breakfast of all things.” Chris lamented, giving Claire one last wave before entering his car.
-+-
So here Christopher Redfield lays, staring up at his ceiling with a bed that’s soon to fit Leon within his reach, with blankets that he’s already stolen from their mutually respective places long before that syndrome even existed, and with furniture he’s picked with the idea of Leon existing with them rather than just himself.
Even as he turned back to the clock, watching the minute tick by slowly to reorganize his thoughts, Chris feels the satin sheets below him shuffle, a dark grey which he thought back when he bought them how it would very much look lovely with a Leon Kennedy laying on top.
Chris sits up, sighing. If he considers that idea again, he isn’t going to be able to face the man without wanting to confess his sins.
He stands, leading himself to the bathroom to quickly wash himself up with a cold shower. He takes a good look in the mirror as he comes out, stretching his back until it gives a satisfying pop. For a moment he considers grooming himself a bit, maybe a bit of a trim for his sides, but he instead goes back to his bedroom to dress himself in a pair of grey joggers and a black turtleneck.
Chris looks at his clock, and only thirty minutes have really passed. He grabs the ring and watch beside it, both on his left wrist and hand. The ring on his ring finger still gives him a giddy feeling about himself and Leon, a gentle reminder of their bond.
“You got this, Chris. No need to pep talk this like a mission. It’s Leon.” Chris reassures himself, finally deciding to start the day.
The kitchen has long been cleaned, like the rest of the entire house shortly after Leon accepted his offer. It was a silly offer initially, as the past few months Leon practically lived within Chris’s house to stay under his care while he was sick, but Chris wanted to establish this as a permanent thing rather than something Chris would eventually stop offering once Leon was cured. Their entire situationship was filled with one miscommunication after another, and so their relationship needed to be as thorough in boundaries and wants as possible for the both of them.
With Chris’s selfishness, he would move a lot faster into marriage if Leon so much as gave a hint. He nearly changed his promise ring proposal into a full marriage one the way he saw Leon’s eyes light up when he knelt for the man one private night at Leon’s apartment. The only reason he felt not to mutter the words “Please marry me” over his promise ring vows were the fear of rushing Leon.
He looks over the prepared setup, almost like how he would usually lay his plans and supplies down with his pack before a mission. The cookbook he purchased by the recommendation of Tundra, who was all too amused by his apparent clueless attitude in cook books and their apparent reliability in today’s domestic kitchens, the ingredients all set out with the exception of cold items, and an apron.
Would Leon like it if he wears the apron?
-+-
Claire nodded to herself as she held up another overly frilly and laced apron at Chris’s chest, noting the stretch it would have against his chest.
“By any chance do you have an outfit planned for this ‘welcome home husband’ breakfast you’re doing?” Claire brainstormed, grabbing one of the previous aprons from her small cart. They’re lucky to be visiting T.J. Maxx so early in the day to even be doing this publicly.
“A regular shirt? Some pants or joggers? Wait, do you think I should go all out?” Chris raised a brow, trying to hide his worry. Maybe this entire breakfast plan was a bad idea.
The younger Redfield’s face twisted into a mischievous grin. “No no no, you remember the turtlenecks you like to wear in Europe? The black ones? Wear that with the apron.”
“That’s not at-home wear. That and joggers? I feel like the turtleneck will make me look too serious.” He made sure to stand straight as Claire motioned so to hold up another apron. He Felt like they got smaller and smaller the longer she browsed. This one’s a more basic white, with black frills at their end and a cat on its front pocket.
“Ohh, trust me Chris, I’m sure Leon loves your serious look on the job, don’t think you’re threatening him by that.” She quietly cackled to herself at her own humor, and Chris can do nothing but sigh. Another apron is held up, a lot longer than the others, or maybe the entire morning is starting to drag itself to torture Chris even more than the atmosphere of T.J. Maxx. “In fact, I think with that black turtleneck, which by the way he did actually text me about once, he might just decide to eat another sort of breakfast instead—”
Chris loudly coughed. “That’s enough, thank you Claire.”
She holds a finger up to shush him. “Wait, this actually looks good on you.”
He looks down at himself, already giving up at the fabric stretching across his chest yet again, a lot less ridiculous frills replaced with small ruffles at the ends, and no wincing patterns or cartoons on it either. It’s also completely grey.
“I found ourselves a winner, Chris. You owe Jill and I so much at this point for your relationship, maybe a well-deserved vacation for her to time with my own coming up?” Claire smirked.
“Sure, Claire. Anything for you.” Chris agreed automatically.
“Wait really?”
“Yeah. I know how hard Jill works, and you two deserve a nice break together. You guys haven’t had a nice date since last Christmas. I think after everything that’s happened and Elpis being distributed that maybe some weeks would do you two good. God knows we all need it.”
Claire dropped her smirk, dropping the apron on the cart to give her brother a hug. “Thanks.”
“Of course. Now’s not the place but, I’m just really happy that you’re all okay.”
Claire gave him a watery smile, refusing to cry. “I’m happy we all are too. Wouldn’t want to leave my brother alone in this world.”
-+-
He finishes tying the apron around his back, already noting the visible stretch. It looks a lot more prominent with the black turtleneck than the regular shirt he wore at that store. He opens the cookbook, right onto the bookmarked page, and places it on a tilted angle for himself to look at while he follows the steps.
Waffles. Two cups all-purpose flour, quarter of a cup white sugar, quarter of a cup brown sugar, and a tablespoon of baking powder, a half teaspoon of salt and a teaspoon of vanilla.
This is a relatively easy recipe. Chris is experienced enough in the kitchen to not fuck this up. He grabs a metal bowl, measuring out his dry ingredients carefully before dropping them in. He gives them a light mix as he looks back at the cookbook, which now calls for two eggs which need to be separated so he can whisk the whites to a white foamy blend and the yolks can be combined with a cup and a half of milk.
Chris pushes the main bowl to the side as he grabs a smaller container for the yolks and milk. He hears his phone buzz, once and then twice, stirring the yolks with the milk thoroughly and stopping to grab his phone with one hand to swipe open his notifications.
L.K.: good morning handsome
L.K.: i’ll be there in thirty :)
Chris feels himself smile down at his phone, thumbs texting back a quick response.
C.R.: Good morning to you, too. I’ll see you soon baby.
He flips his phone back down, back to concentrating on the breakfast and turning on the waffle maker he bought just for this occasion and future occasions like this. Occasions where he would wake up and cook whatever Leon would like, or cook together their meals, or even late nights making whatever they’d like.
He spreads some butter on the mold, watching the sizzles form as he returns to mixing all the ingredients together until it forms a smooth batter. There’s a moment where he considers the issue of toppings, but he already idealizes him and Leon doing it together for each other, and for Rose for when she wakes so she can choose whatever toppings for her waffles. It’s why there’s always whipped cream and sprinkles stocked in the Redfield pantries.
Chris pours two cups of the batter onto the mold, closing and locking it. It should only take some minutes, which is enough for him to start the actual protein for the meal, which is more eggs and the turkey bacon Leon likes over sausages.
He’s just turning the oven with his favorite skillet grabbed where he hears the doorbell ring, making him freeze for a second. It hasn’t been thirty minutes already, has it?
“Shit.” Chris checks his phone, swiping it unlocked and checking Leon’s messages. He sees none missed, but rather a typing bubble appear. This damn man and his speeding habits, and with a Porsche that he’s nearly lost once already in Raccoon City. God knows how this vehicle will keep surviving Leon’s antics.
The doorbell rings again, and he doesn’t bother taking the apron off as he leaves the kitchen towards the entryway. He checks the peephole, seeing the ashy bangs he’s all too familiar with, and opens the door.
“Leon,” Chris smiles, moving aside for the man to enter. Leon’s carrying what looks to be a duffel bag of his clothes and supplies, wearing comfortable slacks with a dark blue, V-shaped shirt tucked into them. Chris can’t help but eye the hemming that has some death grip on Leon’s biceps with interest.
“Morning to you too, Chris. My eyes are up here.” Leon teases. Chris blushes, looking away from his arms to Leon’s eyes, and then trailing down to the exposed collar and upper chest.
Chris covers his face, embarrassed. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Not yet. I like your little get up,” Leon leans into Chris’s space, fingers brushing the top edge of the apron that lays stretched on top of Chris’s chest, eventually slipping his finger in to tug the larger man downward. “I never imagined my man wearing an apron while cooking me breakfast.”
“You look gorgeous today.” Chris murmurs, leaning forward to lock his lips with Leon’s. He feels the other man reciprocate, his tongue just barely lingering to open Chris’s mouth, and is forcefully pushed back. Chris nearly whines at the loss of contact, whereas Leon gives him a knowing smile.
“Let’s have breakfast first. You told me you were cooking?”
His mind decides to function, Chris realizing he might have left the waffle for a bit too long. He motions Leon to enter out of courtesy, grabbing the grab out of his hands and placing it next to the stairs, and speedwalks back to the kitchen with Leon in tow.
“Right. Yeah, I was thinking that waffles, eggs, and bacon all sounded good right? I know you like turkey bacon so I made sure to get those, and as for the waffles I have some toppings you can choose from.”
Leon takes a sit on the kitchen counter that meets the island, resting his head down with a yawn. Even with the cure, Chris knows that Leon’s body is still recovering and that some nights of decent rest doesn’t fix the years worth of illness and PTSD induced insomnia.
Chris opens up the mold, internally sighing in relief as the waffle isn’t burnt. It’s actually nearly perfect to the cookbook picture. He places it onto a plate, and then repeats the process again. While the second cooks he heads to his stove to start on the bacon.
“You okay with sunny side up?” Chris asks.
He hears Leon hum. “My favorite. Make sure to add extra black pepper.”
“Copy that.”
A few minutes pass where Chris flips the bacon, returns to the waffle maker to make another waffle, and continues the repetitive process until eventually, eight waffles are stacked on themselves with the entire packet of bacon he purchased now empty. He starts on the eggs, watching them sizzle and absorb the oil from the bacon, hearing Leon from behind shuffle out of his chair. He doesn’t pretend to act surprised when the DSO agent embraces him from behind, tucking his face into Chris’s back.
Chris feels Leon playfully bite at his back. “Ouch, hungry already?”
“Mhm. I’m hungry for several things, actually. You know, I fought a chef in that care center, not very good food.” Another fake bite.
“Oh, I remember you mentioning that. Along with dodging spinning chainsaws on floors and parrying a doctor with a chainsaw too. How does this relate to you eating me?” Chris turns off the stove, serving the eggs on individual plates for himself and Leon.
He feels Leon shrug behind him, before hands are at his waist and spinning him around. His hips are pressed against Leon’s, leaning against the counter top while Leon inspects the apron, more thoroughly than he did at the entrance.
Leon looks up at Chris, chin purposely resting on top of Chris’s pecs. “So, is this all a welcome home gift for me?”
“Hey, I didn’t think it was the brightest idea—”
He feels Leon kiss his neck, and his hands tighten on the counter. Leon continues taunting, “Of course not. I bet this was all a plotting from your friends, huh. I think for Christmas I’ll ask them for help in tying you up like a present.”
Chris tilts his head back, letting Leon continue mouthing down his neck. “W-Well, I wanted to treat you right. Can’t a man look presentable while making breakfast for his partner?”
“Oh, you can Captain. You’re blowing the expectations away for me. Now, serve me my breakfast.” Leon leaves one last playful bite before finally unhanding Chris, who tries to regain his demeanor. His face and neck feels flushed, and he almost trips himself forward in chasing the feeling of Leon over him, if not for his hands bracing.
Chris obeys, setting the plates for himself and Leon at the dining table along with the toppings he bought. He pulls a chair out for Leon, who smiles as he takes his seat and is gently pushed in. Chris sits next to him, waiting for the man to decorate his waffles with any selection.
“Let me know what you think, okay?” Chris says. He tries not to let his nervousness show at not just the breakfast, but the overall living situation they’re in now.
Leon stays silent, grabbing some syrup and butter and spreading it over his waffles. He takes a bite, chewing quietly, and eyes Chris who waits for the review.
The blue-eyed man swallows, and gives Chris a bright smile. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Chris.”
Chris returns the smile, and leans to give Leon a kiss. “Welcome home, Leon.”