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• • •
Now look. Rebecca had been both confused and suspicious the entire mission. The ire in Leon’s eyes, the confused hurt on Chris’ face, the tension in every interaction. She wondered.
But to be fair to her, being kidnapped by a lunatic was a little distracting. And she didn’t really know Leon, she’d only met him a few times in the past. And those interactions were small, in passing. After all, she rarely worked with the DSO. They were the go-it-alone type of organization and Leon, by extension, typically operated in the same manner.
It wasn’t until she watched them on the plane together, seeing the sparkle in Chris’ gaze when he stared at Leon, that a few things started to click into place. She hadn’t seen that look on him since Wesker was alive, when he was just their calm and collected boss. She remembered once, not long after she first joined the STARS team, watching Chris stare after Wesker in the bullpen and grimacing, wondering what kind of train wreck that would cause. She later got her answer in the form of something worse than she could’ve. imagined. But that’s besides the point.
The point is that she recognized the look in Chris’ eyes. And she saw Leon looking back.
That brings her to this morning. After everything with Arias was put to bed, medical released them and when Rebecca sees Chris and Leon, something has… shifted. Where before a heavy sort of tension lingered in the air, the kind of thing that was hard to read but clearly steeped in some kind of hurt, in its place was a new feeling. Something just to the left of what they’d been before. And again, Rebecca wonders.
In fact, she wonders the entire escorted ride to the airport and the jet ride back to DC. Because they just can’t stop staring at each other with a raw emotion she can only describe as adoration. It’s almost sickening to watch, actually, and this is coming from Rebecca, who normally loves watching this kind of thing.
After hours of quiet filled with what Rebecca can only describe as silent yearning, she finally breaks, “So what’s up with you two, anyway?”
The pair of men startle, jerking to face her. Chris has visible fear in his eyes. Leon slowly clenches his hands into fists.
But Rebecca’s already wrangled them once in the past three days so she continues, “I mean, you’ve been weird around each other the entire time, don’t get me wrong, but this,” she gestures between them, the proximity with which they’re sat, the looks on their faces like they’ve been caught, “This is new.”
“What’s new?” Leon finally asks after clearing his throat.
Rebecca pauses, then holds her hands up. “Look, I’m not one to assume but… if I didn’t know any better, you both look like puppy dogs staring adoringly at their owner,” she shrugs, “To me, that reads as deeper affection than friends. Just saying.”
She watches as they both steady themselves, turning to share a look. For a long moment, she watches their eyes do all of the communicating for them, the microexpressions of their faces acting as their very own silent language. A beat of deliberation passes.
Finally, however, Leon cocks an eyebrow and Chris gives a decisive nod. Then Rebecca watches as their fingers entwine atop Chris’ thigh, their knees knocking together.
“It’s a long story,” Leon says, his eyes never leaving Chris, “But you aren’t wrong.”
Rebecca lets a grin grow on her face, watching the way they melt into each other’s loving gaze.
It’s a new development, that’s for certain. But it doesn’t seem like a bad one.
• • •
“Honey, I’m home!” Carlos yells across their flat in the most obnoxious way possible. Jill rolls her eyes fondly, hearing his laughter echo from the foyer. He entertains himself so easily.
“Actually,” he says as he pops his head around the corner, “I have a question.”
“And I might have an answer,” she says, looking up briefly from the computer where she’s filing reports, “What is it?”
“Have you heard from Redfield lately?” Carlos asks, stepping further into the space.
“Which one?” Jill raises an eyebrow.
“Chris,” Carlos clarifies, heading into the kitchen to find a snack. He hasn’t shed a piece of gear besides his boots since he came in.
“Not in a month or two, why?” Jill answers.
“I just heard some stuff at work today,” he states, “Made me curious is all.”
“What’d you hear?” Jill sets her laptop aside, furrowing her brow.
Standing at their kitchen island in full tactical gear with a box of Cheez-Its in hand, Carlos answers through a muffled mouthful, “Wumo has it—“
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Jill chides with a disgusted wince.
Carlos swallows, then repeats himself, “Well, if Vancouver campus rumors are to be believed, the Captain’s got himself someone.”
“No way,” Jill immediately denies.
Carlos tosses his hands up in a gesture of surrender, “Just telling you what I’ve heard.”
“There’s no way!” Jill exclaims, “He would’ve told me, surely.”
“I don’t know,” Carlos shrugs, “Could be nothing.”
“What else are they saying?” Jill presses.
“Well…” Carlos rocks on his feet for a moment before continuing, “I’ve heard talk that it’s an agent from the DSO so that’s why he’s been keeping it on the down low.”
“There’s zero chance I wouldn’t know about this by now,” Jill denies again, shaking her head. This time, she’s fully assured in her statement. “If Chris didn’t mention it, it would’ve gotten back to Leon and he would’ve said something to me by now.”
“Like I said,” Carlos shrugs again, venturing back to the kitchen and calling over his shoulder as he goes, “Just what I heard!”
“Y’know what,” Jill mumbles to herself, reaching for her phone, “I’m getting to the bottom of this now.”
Within seconds, she’s dialed her best friend’s number and selected video call.
Sure enough, he picks up on the second ring, “Hey, Jill!”
“Hey,” she greets casually, “We haven’t talked in a minute, figured we should catch up.”
“Yeah,” Chris nods, holding his phone at a weird angle so she really only sees the underside of his chin and the ceiling of his living room, “It has been a minute, huh?”
“Yep,” she nods, “So any big, life changing news to share on your end?”
“No,” Chris purses his lips and shakes his head easily, dismissively, “Nothing to write home about between missions here lately.”
“Yeah,” Jill nods, trying not to let any doubt slip into her tone, “Me neither.”
From there, they chat about mundane bullshit like a new recruit Chris has been helping train or how she and Carlos’ bathroom renovations have been going. Half an hour goes by and the scent of food drifts in from the kitchen, telling Jill that Carlos is working on dinner.
But then, Chris shifts to set his phone on the coffee table. It’s propped against something, revealing the reason for the previously awkward angle is that he’s working on some paperwork while they talk, but it also gives her a wider angle of his background.
And in the background, she spies a familiar face clad in nothing but his boxers, standing in Chris’ kitchen with a glass of water in his hand like he belongs there.
“Is that Kennedy?” Jill can’t help herself.
Chris’ head snaps up and his gaze focuses on his phone. Carlos’ voice sounds out from the kitchen with a loudly exclaimed, “What?!” and she hears his footsteps echo across the floor. She watches Chris’ expression shift to something resembling panic when he finally notices Leon in the image reflected back at him.
He turns over his shoulder to confirm Leon’s presence behind him, well within view of the camera. She watches as Leon turns to meet Chris’ eyes and his expression, though distant and grainy on the screen, seems to shift into something resembling a grimace.
“Well, fuck,” is heard distantly in the background, “Didn’t know that was a video call!”
When Chris faces Jill again, it’s with a sigh of resignation.
“Yes,” he states with finality, “About that…”
• • •
Claire is fuming where she stands on her brother’s doorstep. She aggressively knocks at the front door for the third time since she’s arrived, turning over her shoulder to stare at Leon’s motorbike parked beside Chris’ truck.
Finding out that her brother is in a relationship with a male DSO agent from a company consult between Terrasave and the BSAA had sent her blood boiling the moment she heard it. Because she knows from experience that rumors like that don’t travel nearly as far without any genuine evidence.
She’d already had her suspicions as to the identity of this particular agent prior to pulling into Chris’ driveway, but seeing Leon’s sport-bike parked brazenly on the stretch of concrete beside Chris’ pick-up was the only confirmation she needed.
So now, she’s ready to strangle someone because apparently her best friend and her brother have been keeping secrets from her for an unknown period of time.
Just as she raises her fist for another furious round of knocking, the front door swings open to Chris, who’s clearly just been pulled from bed. His shirt looks hastily tossed on, rumpled gym shorts sit twisted on his hips, and his short hair is sticking up in several different directions. He’s rubbing at his eye, brow furrowed in confusion. “Claire?”
“Where is he?” Claire asks.
“…what?” Chris stares at her in confusion, his voice still gravelly with sleep.
“Where is he?” Claire repeats, shoving through him and into the house. He stumbles slightly, catching himself in the door frame as he pivots to face her. “This is a conversation that requires both of you.”
“What are you talking abou—“ Chris starts but is swiftly cut off when Claire stomps directly to his bedroom door and slams it open. Leon lays bundled beneath the covers of the bed, his eyes squinting against the light of his phone, his hair also sticking up in every direction.
He turns to face the sudden noise with a flinch, “Wha—“
“Get out here,” Claire demands, “Now.”
She pivots on her heel and promptly marches back into the living room, pacing back and forth like an angry bull.
“Claire, what the hell—“ Chris questions, sounding much more awake now, but she once again cuts him off.
“No, Chris! Don’t ‘what the hell’ me!” She says, mocking his voice, “I had to find out about my best friend and my brother from some rando at work!”
“Is that what this is about?” Leon’s exhausted voice echoes behind her and she turns to find him exiting the bedroom, pulling a shirt that’s a little too big for him over his shoulders. Sure enough, when he drops the hem and lets it fall flat against his chest, it’s emblazoned with the BSAA logo.
She scoffs, “Yes, fuckface, that’s what this is about!”
“And it couldn’t have waited another hour?” Leon asks, his tone whiny as he rubs his knuckles into his eyes like a little kid.
“No,” she laughs angrily, “How long has this been going on?”
She watches Leon and Chris share a look before Chris answers, “That’s a… complicated question.”
“Okay, I’ll make it simple for you,” she claps her hands for emphasis, “When did you two start fucking?”
“2004,” they answer together in groggy unison.
The vein in her forehead throbs. She’s pretty sure her eye twitches. “…what?!”
Both men wince at her volume.
“You mean to tell me this has been going on for…” she pauses to do the math, “TEN YEARS?!”
“Okay, okay,” Chris holds his hands up, “Claire, please, my tinnitus can’t take this volume this early in the morning.”
“I don’t give a damn,” she dismisses, “Ten years? And you never once thought to tell me?”
“We did think,” Leon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “We thought a lot, actually.”
“So then what the hell?” Claire tosses her hands in frustration.
Leon looks to Chris pointedly and Chris sighs. “It’s a long story,” Chris says, “Sit down.”
So she does, with crossed arms and an impatiently tapping foot. Together, they tell her the entire thing. How they fell together by accident, how they kept it for themselves, how they tore each other apart, how Chris forgot everything, how Leon brought him back, and how they’re still working on picking up the pieces together.
By the end, she’s much less angry. Especially when Chris turns to her with fear in his eyes that comes from somewhere deeper, somewhere sick and mangled that she hasn’t seen since Antarctica. And he asks, “Does this… bother you?”
“No,” she rolls her eyes, “I’m happy for you both. Hell, I’m ecstatic that two of my favorite people in the world found something with each other,” she sighs, “I’m just mad that you didn’t tell me.”
“I take full responsibility for that,” Chris states, “Leon wanted to tell you, it was a point of contention for a long time in those early years, I just…”
“You were scared,” Claire supplies, her voice much softer this time.
“Yeah,” he nods, avoiding her gaze.
She takes a deep breath then leans over and wraps her arms around her big brother. It feels a lot like the day they got home from their parent’s funeral. He hadn’t cried since the night the cops knocked on their door. She hugged him and he broke in her arms. This isn’t as violent but she feels the strength with which he squeezes her, the tears soaking into the shoulder of her shirt.
“I love you,” she says, squeezing tighter for emphasis, “Both of you,” she flicks her eyes up to Leon, whose face is a long list of complicated feelings, “And nothing’s ever gonna change that.”
• • •
Sherry can’t say she wasn’t a little concerned to receive a phone call from Leon out of the blue that started with, “Hey Sher… we need to talk.”
No human being on Earth likes to hear that phrase. Sherry is no exception to the rule. Especially when it comes to Leon. His news could be anything from choosing to leave the field—ha! She wishes—to breaking his sobriety or even the death of someone they know. He rarely has good news, especially with that particular trepidatious tone of voice.
But alas, she hasn’t seen him in a while and she’ll take any excuse to see her dad. So they agreed to meet up for lunch.
Which is where Sherry sits now, waiting for Leon to join her. The bell at the door jingles and she looks up to see him walking over. He looks better than she last saw him. She knows he’s been working on giving up alcohol for good. Clearly, it’s already having a positive effect.
The dark circles under his eyes are virtually gone. His face is cleanly shaven and less hollowed. He’s gained some weight, the sleeves of his shirt more filled out and the waist fitted where it hung loosely a few months ago. His hair is also lighter, matching his general disposition. He looks healthier. Happier. The sight makes her smile as he approaches.
Months ago, she was so worried. He could barely muster a smile or a laugh. His drinking was getting worse and worse. He’d lost weight, as lean in figure as he had been when they’d first met. A thirty-seven-year-old man should not be built like a twenty-one-year-old boy. Not in their line of work.
Standing before her, he almost seems like a different person. Leon returns her smile as she stands up from the booth excitedly, “Hey, Sher.”
She launches into his arms like she’s still that scared twelve-year-old waking up from a nightmare somewhere in a seedy motel that she was in ‘98. That was only days before USSTRATCOM found them. The two weeks she and Leon spent alone when Claire had to leave to find Chris was a sacred thing for them both. Two scared kids clinging together in the aftermath of so much trauma.
She gives an excited squeak and he laughs, wrapping his arms around her and rocking them on their feet like he did all those years ago. “Missed you too, kiddo,” he speaks into her hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She squeezes a little harder before pulling back.
She gives him another once over and smiles, “You look good.”
“So do you,” he smiles back, a little melancholy in the way he always gets when he remembers she’s all grown up now, “How’s Jake doing?”
That question spurs them into a conversation about her husband and work as they take their seats. The waitress stops by for their drink order while they catch up and time blurs together easily.
By the time they place their food orders, the conversation lulls just long enough for Sherry to question, “I’m always happy to take the time to see each other and catch up, Leon, don’t get me wrong, but… what exactly was this about? You reached out for a reason.”
Leon takes a breath that turns into a nervous laugh. She feels him begin to bounce his leg under the table.
“Dad, what is it?” Her concern festers and the tone in her voice—the rare use of the familial title— shows it.
“Nothing bad,” he promises, holding his hands up when he hears the fear in her voice, “It’s just… news.”
“So spit it out,” she urges.
Leon laughs again, still a little nervous as he rubs the back of his neck, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, Sherry?”
“Beating around the bush has never gotten me anything,” she shakes her head, “Spit it out.”
“Okay,” he nods, taking a breath and steadying himself. All at once, she watches his shoulders straighten. His eyes grow a little lighter, his expression deepens into something serious and genuine.
“I’m in a relationship,” Leon states, “And I think it’s time you know.”
“What?” Sherry exclaims, a wide smile coming to her face.
Leon’s lips twitch upwards at her excitement but he continues, “And it’s Chris.”
That gives her pause for a very long moment. She wracks her brain, cataloguing every interaction she’s ever born witness to over the years, the tension between them that always seemed charged with something she couldn’t quite place.
“Oh my god,” she finally says, the realization dawning. It makes perfect sense, in hindsight, “Oh my god.”
Leon just stares at her while she processes. He bites at his lip in a nervous tic, fiddling with his hands. His leg still bounces beneath the table.
Sherry considers it. Chris, who’s been a firmer hand than Leon with the people he cares about, who shows his love through action more than words. Sherry’s watched him make sure Claire was fed and taken care of at every dinner they’ve all gotten together for since she met him. He takes care of himself, not necessarily because he wants to but because he knows he has to for the sake of his team and his loved ones.
Chris cares, a lot. He’s kind and softer than most would expect when they first see his broad shoulders and resting bitch face. He carries a lot on his shoulders and he invests himself too deeply into people, even knowing how many he’s lost through the years. He grieves every day for the people he can’t save.
Sherry knows he’s a good man. And when she considers Leon, the loud way he loves, the way he gives himself to everyone around him until he has nothing left, the little pieces of himself he leaves behind with those he can’t save. She thinks of his avoidant attachment style that can cause Sherry to go almost a year without hearing from him if she doesn’t reach out. She then thinks of the way Chris has before reminded her of a brick wall when it comes to helping the people that matter to him. Unstoppable force meets an immovable object and all that.
If you asked her what Leon would need most in a partner, the things she knows of Chris check most of the boxes.
Which leaves her with one question.
“Are you happy?” She reaches across the table for his hand. She threads their fingers together, stopping his fidgeting. He gives a small squeeze.
“Very,” Leon smiles. It’s soft in a way Leon rarely allows himself to be. It’s telling.
“Then that is all that will ever matter to me,” Sherry promises.
Leon blinks a few times before the tears brimming in his eyes can catch the light and she squeezes his hand just a little bit harder.
“Tell me everything,” Sherry finally breaks the moment with an excitedly nosy energy.
Leon laughs and Sherry smiles because of how easy it sounds.
He’s so much better than he was the last time she saw him. His burdens are still there but much less heavy. He’s taken care of, sober, and visibly healthier for it. Leon looks lighter. Happier. Softer.
And if Chris Redfield is the person responsible for this change, Sherry has a lot more to thank him for than she first thought.
• • •
Chris Redfield is something of an enigma to Ethan.
He’s a nice enough guy, Ethan supposes. He’s stepped in and chosen to take Ethan and Mia under his wing, offering them both more advanced training and guardianship within the BSAA. He’s friendly, if a tough trainer.
But he’s very surface level. He doesn’t divulge much of himself in conversation and he doesn’t ask personal questions. He comes in, they make small talk, he’ll occasionally check in on their mental states after everything with the Bakers, and then they’ll get right into training.
He’ll laugh at Ethan’s jokes before he damn near puts him through the floor with a tackle Ethan has no idea how to counter. He’ll quietly readjust Ethan or Mia’s posture in the firing range or on the sparring mat. He offers notes and tactical advice then packs himself up for the day.
So Ethan knows very little of Chris. Until he heads out of the firing range for a bathroom break and comes upon him leaning against a wall with his phone pressed to his ear.
Ethan pauses, unsure if he’s intruding by passing by or if he should retreat and wait. But in his moment of deliberation, he finds himself accidentally eavesdropping.
“—be home in an hour, maybe two,” Chris is saying to whoever is on the phone, “Yeah, if you want to get a head start on it.”
Chris smiles at whatever is said in response. His face is gentler than Ethan’s ever seen it before. It starts to dawn on Ethan what he’s witnessing.
“I appreciate you,” Chris says. It’s not quite a whisper but it’s close. The way he says it is intimate. Now Ethan knows he’s intruding, but he’s too enraptured by what he’s witnessing to walk away.
“I mean it,” Chris affirms, “I need you to know that.”
Ethan watches an amalgamation of feelings cross the BSAA Captain’s face before he clears his throat. “I’ll see you when I get home, love you, bye.”
When Chris hangs up the phone, Ethan starts back on his journey to the bathroom and aims for nonchalance. Chris nods at him when he passes but doesn’t say anything.
After that, Ethan can’t help but notice it. The signs of love that linger all around Chris Redfield, the enigma with a deep devotion for someone waiting for him at home.
It’s written in the tired lines in his face that ease when his phone rings and he steps aside to take the call. Ethan catches it in glimpses, in overheard phone calls and inside jokes, in the way Chris laughs far harder at some of Ethan’s quips than they truly justify. In the way his posture eases and his eyes glow when he returns from taking a call or when Ethan sees him early in the morning, wearing a high-necked sweater and still clearly riding the high of a good morning.
Ethan, ever a romantic at heart, can appreciate these little glimpses into the Captain’s life from afar. To know the seemingly otherwise jaded soldier, who’s been in this fight since Ethan was a kid, has room for a soft spot. A safe place to land. Someone to love.
Ethan looks to Mia, the woman he’s loved and mourned in equal measure for so long that it feels like breathing. His left hand twinges. He tightens it into a fist, feeling the dig of his cold, metal wedding band, and it makes him smile.
Love is a complicated thing. But Ethan is the kind that believes everyone deserves love somewhere in their life, in whatever shape or form that takes, and while he and Chris are still on a tangential journey into friendship, he still wants the best for the man who saved his life—even if it was in the eleventh hour.
Then, one day, Ethan’s walking through the BSAA compound when he overhears a pair of other soldiers. “—tain Redfield that he’s inbound?”
“Agent Kennedy said not to tell him,” the other soldier responds.
“Well, surely the Captain would prefer a warning,” the first states, “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be on the other end of his ire if he finds out we all knew about this before he did.”
“I highly doubt Captain Redfield will be that upset by his partner dropping in for a surprise visit,” the second reasoned, “It’s not like this is a dire situation, Kennedy is just passing along some paperwork from the DSO.”
“I guess you have a point,” the first sighs.
“You’re too scared of him,” the second laughs, “The Captain isn’t that intimidating, I’m telling you.”
“Whatever you say,” the first shakes his head with a nervous laugh and they pass out of Ethan’s range of hearing.
Well. He can’t say he hasn’t been curious about who exactly has Chris so smitten. When he finds Mia, she’s attempting to beat her own personal best in the firing range. He covers his ears in lieu of proper ear plugs and waits for her to empty the magazine before tapping her on the shoulder.
She jumps, startled by the interruption, and rips her ear protection off. She whirls to face him and relaxes when she sets eyes on Ethan. She smiles, “Hey honey, what’s up?” Her Texas accent wraps around her words a little thicker than it usually would and Ethan could melt where he stands.
Focus, he scolds himself. He can moon over his wife later.
“I overheard some of the guys in the hall talking, I think we might meet Chris’ partner today,” Ethan says casually, leaning against the wall of the shooting stall with crossed arms.
“Really?” Mia lifts an intrigued eyebrow. Ethan nods.
“Well, this will be interesting,” she hums in thought, “Any guesses?”
“Well, they called them ‘Agent Kennedy’ and mentioned the DSO,” Ethan adds, “So whoever they are, they work with the government.”
“Okay,” Mia nods, “That makes sense, I can’t see Chris with a civilian.”
“Me either,” Ethan shakes his head, “You still don’t think they’re married?”
Mia shakes her head, “I doubt it. He would wear a ring if he had one, even if it was on a chain around his neck. We would’ve seen it by now.”
“I stand by my thinking that they’ve been together a long time,” Ethan states, holding his hands up, “You don’t talk to someone the way he talks to them if it’s new.”
“Oh, it’s definitely not new,” Mia shakes her head, “I think I’m most curious to see if it’s a man or a woman.”
Ethan hums in thought. “I still can’t see him with a woman.”
“I don’t know,” Mia shrugs, “I’ve seen some old pictures of him and Valentine in the office, I could see it.”
“The co-founder?” Ethan scoffs, “Are you serious?”
“You didn’t see the pictures,” Mia points an accusing finger.
“I just don’t see it,” Ethan dismisses.
“I guess time will tell,” Mia sighs, “C’mon, let’s go snag some lunch before Chris puts us through the wringer.”
Hand in hand, they venture to the cafeteria and the conversation is forgotten for the time being. A few hours go by, and Chris and Mia are sparring in the center of the training gym while Ethan watches when the door opens.
Ethan glances, expecting one of the night shift boys who frequent the gym during their training time and typically pay them no mind. Instead, he’s faced with a man he can’t place.
He’s blond, his hair long and feathery where it falls into his face. His skin is pale, his eyes light as they pass over the room with a tactical assessment. He’s wearing a blue dress shirt and black, tailored slacks, but he doesn’t carry himself like a suit, black steel-toed boots softly thudding against the concrete floor as he takes a few slow strides into the room.
Ethan spies the visitors badge dangling from his neck, one with a high clearance level. Then he sees the way the man’s eyes fall on Chris in the center of the room. Ethan watches his posture ease, tense shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, his lips quirking up at the edges in a soft, half-smile.
And Ethan knows immediately who he must be looking at.
He doesn’t say a word, bouncing his gaze between the man and Chris and Mia as they spar, waiting for someone else to notice.
It isn’t until Mia gets the upper hand in a move that reminds Ethan of reading Black Widow comics as a kid—he’s barely containing the drool, he won’t even pretend to lie—that the man finally speaks.
“Losing your touch, Redfield?” He calls across the open floor with a cheeky smirk.
Chris’ head snaps up with a shocked expression, “Leon?”
Finally with a name for the face, Ethan watches Leon step closer as Mia releases her grapple. She and Chris part ways and she meets Ethan’s eyes from across the room with a curiously cocked brow. ‘Guess you were right,’ she mouths at him and Ethan grins, turning his focus back to Chris and Leon as they approach each other.
“I thought you were in DC for the week?” Chris questions, still catching his breath with his hands on his hips. He’s a stark contrast to Leon’s sharp dress, a t-shirt he’s nearly sweat through and cargo pants that have seen better days. Between the two of them, Ethan and Mia have been giving him a run for his money today. He was already close to tapping out, Ethan could tell.
“I was,” Leon replies with a small shrug and a smile, “Debrief went over… interestingly, to say the least, and the suits wanted the BSAA looped in.”
“So you volunteered as courier,” Chris nods in understanding, “Well, it’s good to see you in one piece.”
“Don’t be coy, come here,” Leon rolls his eyes and grasps Chris by his shirt.
“Leon, I stink—“ Chris is cut off by Leon’s mouth.
Ethan grins, sharing a look with Mia over the couple’s head. Yeah, he called it. He’s proud of himself.
But more than that, it warms his heart to finally see what Chris goes home to at the end of the day.
And maybe, he and Mia can make another friend out of Leon.