Work Text:
"Can't sleep either?" Luis' voice coming from the balcony of their hotel room startles Leon slightly. He should've known that the man was there, if only for the strong smell of cigarettes invading the room even though he was sitting outside. It’s a small area with a wooden table, a chair that was probably sold with it and a big disc chair. Luis is sitting at the table, closer to the ashtray and leaning against the railing. Leon slips through the open gap of the balcony's door, letting it click behind him.
"You shouldn't leave that open, the smoke stinks." Leon says as an answer. The dejected look on Luis' face is a bit much for such a small remark.
"We're stuck outside now, thanks to you." The sigh that leaves Luis' mouth holds no smoke, his cigarette abandoned on the side of his ashtray while he runs a hand on his face. Shame creeps up Leon's neck.
"What, you mean we can't open those from the outside?"
"Sancho, you'd be a terrible burglar." Luis' gaze falls back on him. "C'mon sit, morning is not so far eh? Ashley will eventually find us."
Spain is warm at night around this time of the year. Enough so that Leon is happy to be only wearing a tee-shirt and his boxer shorts. Doing as he's told, he sits on the hotel’s round papasan chair next to Luis, leaning on the cushions behind him.
The silence is comfortable between them. The view from their balcony is beautiful, a display of the whole city sleeping. Luis lays relaxed in his chair. He's only wearing a dress shirt and his boxers. He takes a drag of his cigarette from time to time, a warm glow illuminating his face then. He catches Leon's stare out of the corner of his eye, pushing forward his cigarettes towards Leon, cocking his head to the side.
"Told you I don't smoke."
Luis shrugs with a grin. "Worth a try, you should see your face, you could use one!" It is said with a smile, but Leon can hear concern laced behind the other's words. He decides to not pick up on that. But Luis continues, leaning slightly towards him. "So what's your thing eh?"
Ah. They were getting personal now? In Valdelobos they had no time to think, let alone talk. Downtime meant quick power naps and maybe grilling a snake or a fish if they were lucky. Leon is beyond exhausted, but for some reason, the night after getting out of this nightmare, his body won't let itself go to sleep. He takes a deep breath that might be read as a sigh of annoyance on Luis' part. But the other simply leans back with a smile, feeling like Leon will answer anyway. He won.
"Whiskey, I guess?" He likes the taste, even though most of the time he isn't drinking it for that. Luis seems to hear the unsaid part, his eyes dragging up to Leon's, holding his gaze.
"You have great taste, but I'm more of a gin guy myself." He puts his cigarette back between his lips, slowly inhaling.
"It wasn't your first mission like that, was it?"
The question wasn't a surprise, he could've felt him racking his brain about it back in Valdelobos. Leon still shifts uncomfortably in his chair despite seeing the question coming "Was not." A pause. Then lower, "It doesn't get easier."
A slight movement from Luis in his peripheral vision tells him that the man is stubbing out his cigarette. "Is that what is keeping you awake at night?"
This ticks Leon off. "What are you, my shrink?"
"Oye, don't need to bite Sancho." There's no heat in Luis' voice. He turns to look at the sleeping city underneath them. Leon raises his eyes back to him, Luis looks at least ten years older than he really is. Leon lets the silence settle again between them again, and it's not as comfortable as before.
There's fireflies dancing in some bushes nearby. Luis' eyes are fixated on them, his face fallen into a quiet melancholy.
Leon's contemplation of Luis is broken when the older man shifts to bring one of his knees to his chest, hugging it with his arms. "I didn't think Valdelobos would ever end like this." If the wind had been slightly stronger, Leon wouldn't have heard him.
"Is that what is keeping you awake at night?" Leon whispers after a beat. The other man's eyes snap back to him then.
His gaze sweetens when he catches Leon's careful expression "Among a lifetime worth of regrets, yes."
"I guess we have the same reasons for not sleeping then." Leon's voice is all but a whisper.
Luis gives him a humorless laugh. "I seriously doubt it."
The blond's mouth twists. "So what, you think you're the only one who’s got things to be guilty about?" Leon says with a sigh.
Luis' shoulders relax. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." He leans forward, putting another cigarette between his lips and lighting it up.
Leon's gaze is stuck on the glow of the lighter, the contrast its flame shines with the blue hues that surround them and the moonlight. The light reflects on Luis' hair. His arms come to wrap around his own ribs.
Leon nudges his foot against Luis' thigh. "Are you cold?" He's carefully looking for any trace of annoyance on Luis' face, and finds none.
"A bit. It's fine, I don't mind it." Luis’ arms rub mindlessly against his side as he says that.
"I really hate the rain." It's said as a secret, slow and cautious. Leon watches as Luis' eyes turns to him, an eyebrow raised.
"How so?"
"When I was just starting my first job, as a cop, something happened… It was raining then." Luis is wordlessly looking at him, inching his head forward to encourage him to keep talking. The blond shifts in his chair.
"I think that a part of me is still running down those corridors, with how often I have nightmares where I'm back in this place." Luis is not smoking anymore, his cigarette resting on the ashtray. He's leaning one arm over the edge of his chair. Yet despite his relaxed pose, his lips are pressed into a thin line.
"Especially when it rains, but that is if I even get to sleep at all… I wasn't built for this then, when it all happened… I wasn't able to- … I couldn't make a difference." Without realizing, Leon sits a little bit tighter on his chair, his legs drawn up on the cushions.
"You were just a young cop, Leon." The blond wants to protest, say that Luis didn't know him then and that he doesn't know him now. But everything dies in his throat when the Spaniard stands up and comes to sit next to Leon, in the disc chair.
It's a seriously too tight of a fit for two grown men. Leon starts to pull away, but he's grabbed by Luis who squeezes himself between the arm of the small sofa and Leon's side. "Hush I'm cold. And it's your fault that we're stuck out here." The skin of the other man is indeed colder than Leon’s, goosebumps bloom on his own skin as Luis presses against him. He smells good, though they must share the same scent given they both had a shower after checking into the hotel. Leon’s neck and cheeks flush at the thought. They shift a bit until they're both comfortable. From knees to shoulders they’re touching, Luis' head is resting next to Leon's on the headrest, he's looking up at the sky.
"How did this nightmare end?" The other man is wearing the same expression as before, his jaw shut tight.
"The city got destroyed… with everything, everyone that was still there." Given how close they are, Leon's voice dropped very low. Luis turns to look back at him, and Leon would've never expected to find so much unfiltered sadness in the eyes of the otherwise always composed man.
"You were in Raccoon City?" The words seem to stumble out of Luis' mouth. Hearing this name out loud again makes a cold shiver run down Leon's back, despite the warm body pressed against his side.
"How do you know that name." Leon meant to sound angry, but it came out as a strangled whisper instead. He can guess, he knows, why Luis is aware of the city's fate. Sure, the news coverage for it was loud enough to be heard even overseas. But the guilt and shame he sees in Luis' eyes right now tells him that this is not where he heard it from.
"I'm so sorry" And yet, for such generic words, it seem so genuine. But it only feeds the anger simmering low in Leon's guts.
'I should've left him in that bag to rot' the words he said to Hunnigan back when he learned Luis' former connections with Umbrella come rushing back into Leon's mind. This man, who he knows has done terrible things in his life, who is suffering the burden of his guilt every single day. This man who's doing his best to change, and who Leon dares to call a friend. This man had a hand in what happened in Raccoon City.
Without realizing, Leon's body tensed, and he's inching away from Luis. His eyes frantically search the other's face for clues that would prove his assumptions wrong. But he finds none.
"You…" But nothing else comes out. What is he supposed to say to that? Deep down he knew this was a possibility. But he grew so incredibly fond of the man during their short time together that he totally buried it and kept it down under the memories he made with Luis.
"I swear I didn't know… this wasn't part of my initial project, I- mierda, I helped here and there sometimes and… when I left…" Luis takes a breath, trying to find his words.
Him suddenly talking made Leon freeze and listen, his eyes searching the concrete floor beneath them. "…No, I'm fooling myself… the Birkins asked for help, and I was more than happy to meddle."
Hearing this name again after so many years feels like a lightning bolt struck Leon.
"I might need one of your fucking cigarettes after all." The blond says with a dry laugh, he's rubbing one hand on his face, trying to keep down the anxiety and anger rising in his chest.
Luis leans forward to pull his cigarettes out from between the cushions where he stashed them. He takes one for Leon and one for himself. The Spaniard lights his up, holding his lighter to Leon then. This isn’t the first time Leon ever smoked, but he doesn’t like it. The tension between them subsided a bit. They're looking at each other, Luis legs now thrown over Leon's. Everything about this is uncomfortable. He nods towards Luis, pulling away to rest against the far edge of the armchair. He's met with a sigh as Luis leans back on the headrest again, looking at the sky.
"When I left… I ran for a while. And from shitty hotels to even shittier hotels, I came back home, to Valdelobos." He's fidgeting with his lighter. "I can't even say that I was tricked into the same thing again, I-" He pumps his fist through the air, turning to Leon. "I saw the pattern, si? I knew but I didn't want to believe… I was on the run and this was the first time in a while that I had some sort of stability. I clung to that."
Luis falls silent. Leon knows the rest of the story anyway.
Europe Lab 6, right? The 'dream team'? Leon brushes his fingers against Luis', taking his lighter and reading the names carved on it. All those people, Leon hates them. He has to. Umbrella's highest ranking scientists, capable of creating abominations the human mind cannot even fathom. Their monsters haunt Leon's every dream. And he knows that the only reason Luis' most direct creations didn't come to haunt him is because he didn't get a chance to properly sleep yet.
Luis is not looking at him anymore. He's looking to the side, taking a drag of his cigarette. And at this moment, the only thing Leon can think about is how human he looks. Umbrella creates monsters, and destroys people's lives. And even though it leaves a bitter taste in Leon's mouth and a ball of anxiety in his throat, sometimes these people are young aspiring scientists.
"The difference between my guilt and yours is that I knew I was hurting people. I was not naive, Leon. I was egoistic, and so fucking scared." Luis' voice breaks by the end of his sentence. He moves suddenly to rub at his face with his other hand. Then stands up, leaving an empty space next to Leon.
"I'll go. In the morning." He's not looking at Leon, who’s never heard him talk so slowly, his accent thick as if he's making up his mind in real time. Before his brain can react, Leon grabs his wrist. He tugs it, waiting for Luis to turn and look at him.
"Come back here, I'm cold." Luis hesitates, opening his mouth as if to protest then snapping it closed. He pulls his arm away a bit. Leon doesn't let go. "Please."
The pleading works. Luis climbs back into the armchair, his legs back over Leon's but this time choosing to hide his face in the blond’s neck. They've never been so close before, quick naps shoulder to shoulder in Valdelobos to keep warm despite the rain maybe. But the blond didn't expect Luis to be so cuddly, and so deafeningly quiet.
Leon uses the arm Luis is resting on to stroke his back slightly, and eventually both arms come to hold the scientist. Luis uses one of his hands to draw mindless shapes on Leon's chest, his forehead now pressed under his jaw.
The wind picks up a bit, blowing a few leaves off of nearby trees and bushes. Leon thinks he can hear some frogs croak in the distance. He feels his eyelids grow heavy, and without really thinking, his lips brush Luis' forehead, smoothing back his hair.
"Good night." It's a whisper just for them.
Luis raises his face, and their lips connect. Sweet, slow kisses are exchanged between the two of them. And for all Leon knows, it might as well be a dream, as he's slipping into slumber, his exhaustion finally getting the best of him.
"Good night, Prince Charming." Luis' voice answers.
The smell, the warmth, the weight of Luis against his side lull him to sleep… Leon rarely felt this safe.
