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There’s an incessant jitteriness lying in wait in Leon’s bones, and he isn’t sure if it’s because of the antiviral he was administered a few hours ago or the obvious anger simmering in the man sitting in the driver’s seat. He’s spent enough time with his husband to know it’s not a smart idea to ignore him, but Leon doesn’t know what he could possibly say to Luis that won’t piss him off even more than he already is. So, he just bounces his leg as his hands try to find a distraction.
Holding Luis’ hand or gripping his thigh is a no-go, as he’s sure Luis would just swat his hand away. Leon isn’t exactly sure what else to do since he’s rarely, if ever, in the passenger seat. The title of “passenger princess” is entirely bestowed to Luis, even before they started dating. Luis always seemed more than happy to relax while he let Leon do all the work, and Leon took it upon himself to keep Luis happy.
So, Leon had offered to drive when they were cleared to go home—totally not as an excuse to keep his hands occupied—but Luis snatched the keys from his hands the second they reached the Porsche he parked on the outskirts of Raccoon City. Leon had tried to argue, but the sharp glare that Luis sent his way when he opened his mouth shut him right up. All he could was awkwardly clamber into the car as Luis slammed the driver door shut and quickly drove away.
For a self proclaimed lover of thrill rides, Luis drove like a grandma. Shortly after Luis gained his citizenship, Leon volunteered to teach him how to drive, but apparently (according Luis), he was a horrible teacher. Claire took over Luis’ driving lessons after that, but he doubts Luis’ current precaution stems from whatever Claire taught him.
Luis’ paranoia must be entirely his own.
Leon can practically feel how tense Luis’ hands are on the wheel, his knuckles white as he holds it rigidly. That won’t bode well for his muscles later, so Leon tries to think of a way to get him to calm down. He lifts a hand, pondering for a second if he should place it on Luis’ thigh before chickening out and turning the volume up instead.
As soon as the last radio station he had on—an early 2000s alternative rock one—starts blaring through the car, Luis’ right hand shoots out and turns it off just as fast. His head twists so suddenly toward Leon that the blond fears he got whiplash, but Luis is perfectly fine enough to glower at him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Luis asks, looking back at the road once he’s made the displeasure on his face known.
Leon clears his throat, shrugging nonchalantly. “Uh, putting on music…? I thought you’d like to listen to something while you drive.”
“Right,” Luis says, scoffing. “Or so you can continue to ignore the conversation we’re meant to be having?”
Leon winces, sinking further into his seat. “I’m not ignoring it,” he lies.
Luis laughs sardonically, and Leon can see from his peripheral view as Luis shakes his head. “What would you call it then, Leon? Why do I have to be the one to always start these conversations?”
Something about the way Luis called him ‘Leon’ makes him grow defensive. He hates that it’s his instinct to surround his heart in barbed wire the second he feels attacked, even when he knows Luis isn’t trying to hurt him. However, knowing Luis’ intentions has never made his words hurt any less.
Luis is hardly ever angry at him—in fact, Leon would wager that most of their arguments had been started by Leon, especially early on in their relationship. It was hard to let Luis in after the world made it abundantly clear that Leon couldn’t keep anyone. So, Leon tried to keep him at arm’s length until he couldn’t ignore the fact that he could not live without Luis.
Now at the sight of Luis seething for a reason Leon could only pinpoint as himself, he’s more fucking terrified than he was when Gideon had him in his weird ass attic. He could handle whatever spiels the lunatic-of-the-week had for him, but he could not handle a potential divorce. Not that he thinks Luis would divorce him over this—at least, he hopes.
Luis didn’t seem that angry at him when he randomly showed up in Raccoon City despite Leon not telling him where he was going—something he strongly believes he has Sherry to thank for. Luis’ obvious desperation had softened him then as he ran and clung onto Leon as if he had been convinced Leon was a goner.
Leon doesn’t blame Luis for his pessimism—even he didn’t completely believe he was making it out of this one alive.
His husband had sent his thanks to a God he hadn’t prayed to in years as he held onto Leon, sobbing and refusing to let him go. There had been initial disbelief when Leon told him that he was completely cured from any lingering T-Virus infection, and Luis tilted to his head to examine the once-affected skin at his neck.
The image of Luis’ visible shock—his wide, watery gray eyes and the trembling hand covering his mouth—is a sight that’ll stay ingrained in Leon’s mind for many nights to come. Maybe even years, if Leon is being entirely honest with himself.
It felt wrong to let Luis believe that fate had merely spared him once again when it took grueling effort to even make it to this point. If it had been up to Leon, he would still be condemned to a painful death from that forsaken virus. He wouldn’t have thought twice to destroy Elpis, believing that anything that came from Umbrella was purely rotten.
It was stupid ironic belief, considering he was married to one of the best things to come out of that corporation. He should’ve had more faith, but how could he after all the shit he’s seen? Who could blame him if his first instinct was to destroy Elpis?
It’s a good thing Grace Ashcroft still had hope embedded deep within her, ever so stubborn. Without her, who knows what would’ve happened to him. Either Raccoon City Syndrome, Zeno, or Gideon would’ve been the final nail in the coffin.
Geez, what a lineup.
He didn’t think twice about telling Luis about Grace’s role in his miraculous survival and cure, and he wasn’t at all surprised when Luis went over to her and invited her to dinner. While he wasn’t surprised about Luis’ invitation, he was apprehensive about overwhelming Grace. He knew his husband could be…quite the social butterfly.
Which is why he assumed Luis would continue to talk his ear off much like had done to Grace once they began their drive home, but apparently Luis had expected Leon to pick up the conversation. As much as he loves him, Leon hates when Luis made up these silent expectations that he held Leon to as if he were a mind reader. He already knows he’s fighting a losing battle when Luis gets like this.
“How was I supposed to know that?” Leon grumbles, resting his chin on his hand as he looks out the window. “I thought you’d be dying to ask me questions since that’s all you love doing.”
Leon immediately regrets the words once they leave his mouth, but he doesn’t get the chance to apologize when Luis says, “What else am I meant to do? You won’t tell me anything unless I pry it out of you!”
Luis’ voice wavers, and Leon accepts defeat far too easily once he turns and sees fresh new tear tracks running down Luis’ face.
“I know. I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry, babe,” Leon says, finally taking the risk of putting a hand on Luis’ thigh. He gently kneads at the tense muscle, and Luis sighs, his glassy eyes reflecting the sharp shade of red of the traffic light.
“I don’t want you to say sorry,” Luis replies, not bothering to glance Leon’s way once the light turns green. “I know—I—I’m not…I’m not angry with you, Leon.”
Considering Luis is still calling him Leon, he sincerely doubts that.
“It’s okay if you are. I should’ve told you I was gonna follow a lead instead of just leaving without a word.” It takes all of Leon’s self-restraint not to reach over and wipe away Luis’ tears. He knows better to do that while Luis is driving; his husband has a knack for hyperventilating the second he gets an ounce of physical comfort. “I just knew you were gonna worry, and…I know how much this was getting to you—”
“But you shouldn’t have had to go in the first place!” Luis sobs, working himself up even without Leon’s interference. “I promised you I was going to find a cure, and what have I done? Absolutely nothing!”
“Luis, baby,” Leon says, eyeing Luis’ trembling hands. “Pull over.”
“I couldn’t save you. I can’t even be mad at you for not listening to me,” Luis rants, his breathing growing shakier by the second. “If you hadn’t gone behind my back, you would have—”
“I’m alive,” Leon says, squeezing Luis’ thigh tighter. “I’m alive, and I’m right here with you. Don’t think about the what-ifs right now, okay? Can you pull over for me?”
Luis has devolved to agonized whimpers, but he still manages to flick the blinker and ease the car into the shoulder. The gravel crunches underneath the tires as the car comes to a complete stop, and Leon takes the opportunity to press the park button. He can’t quite reach the button to stop the engine, but that can wait. Anything that isn’t Luis doesn’t even count as a priority right now.
Leon unbuckles his seatbelt and maneuvers over the bothersome center console to get Luis into his arms. The best he can manage is to cradle the back of his head with one hand while the other rubs slow circles on his back. Luis just sobs harder at the contact, like he’d been waiting for permission to fall apart.
“Hey. Hey, look at me,” Leon murmurs, tilting Luis’ chin until those gray eyes meet his own. “I’m here. Feel that?” He moves to grab one of Luis’ hands to press it flat against his chest, right over his slightly erratic heartbeat. “I’m alive. I’m okay, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You could’ve,” Luis chokes out. “You could’ve died out there, and I wouldn’t have even known where to start looking for your body—”
“But I didn’t.” Leon works up the courage to lean in, practically crawling over the center console just to kiss Luis. He ignores the taste of salt and how wet Luis’ skin is in favor of pressing kisses all over his face, ending on his lips once more for good measure. “I didn’t die, sweetheart. I know it doesn’t erase what almost happened, and you’ve got every right to be terrified, but I need you to breathe for me. In through your nose.”
Luis tries, hiccuping through it, and Leon counts along with him under his breath, the same way Luis always does for him after a night terror. It feels strange, being on this side of it, but he supposes that’s exactly the problem Luis has been trying to name this whole ride. They’ve known each other for over 20 years and been married for nearly ten, and Leon still struggles to be open about his affection and worries. He thought it would get easier as time went on, and while in some aspects it has, there are still moments when Leon would rather fight another B.O.W. than to tell Luis what he’s feeling.
Well, better late than never.
“I should’ve called you the second I found the lead,” Leon admits quietly, absentmindedly caressing the area underneath Luis’ eye with his thumb. “You’re right. I don’t get to decide what you can handle knowing. That’s not fair to you.”
Luis shakes his head slightly, even as he leans into Leon’s palm. “I don’t want you to just say what I want to hear.”
“I’m not.” Leon brushes his thumb from Luis’ cheekbone down to his jawline. “I mean it. I’m sorry I made you feel like an afterthought. You’re not, and you’ve never been.”
“You’re not getting it,” Luis says, leaning away and grabbing Leon’s hand. He pulls it away from his face and grasps it tightly between both of his hands, bowing his head as if he were praying to Leon. “I can’t—I can’t do it anymore. I cannot just wait at home and hope you come back. I need you all the time, and—I don’t know if I could go on if something happened to you.”
Without thinking, Leon replies, “You could. You’ve survived worse, and I know you’d pull through. You always do.”
Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say as Luis’ lips part, his bottom lip trembling. “Worse than losing you?” he whispers. “No. No, nothing would be worse than losing you. Please, you have to retire. Please—”
“I can’t,” Leon says, shutting his eyes tightly. “You know I can’t do that.”
Luis doesn’t respond for a second, the silence punishment enough before Luis even utters a word.
“I don’t know, Leon,” Luis says slowly. “When it was to protect Sherry, I understood. I didn’t beg you to quit because I understood. But now? Sherry is a grown adult who can protect herself, and she does! So who are you protecting now?”
“You!” Leon snaps, opening his eyes and looking at Luis head on. “I’m protecting you. How could I quit now when there’s still so much to do? There are still bioweapons popping out left and right, and if I can do something about it, shouldn’t I?”
“There will always be bioweapons,” Luis replies, turning away from Leon to look out the windshield with a vacant gaze. He loosens his grip on Leon until his hands fall limply on his sides, Leon’s hand following suit. “We’re all doing what we can, but you don’t have to put your life on the line anymore. You’ve done your part, cariño.”
How easy it is for him to say that—as if it were truly that simple. To just up and leave.
Luis has the gift of being able to help behind the scenes. He can work on cures, suppressants, and medications until he wants to retire, but what else can Leon do? What else is he good for other than putting his body through hell for the sake of humanity?
He is well aware that Luis carries on his own kind of guilt—one that sometimes threatens to suffocate him during even their most peaceful of days—and Leon can’t bring himself to add more burden on Luis’ shoulders. He won’t be another reason why Luis can’t sleep at night or cries to the verge of a panic attack. He just can’t do that to him.
But…isn’t that exactly what he’s becoming?
Leon swallows down the lump in his throat, clenching his hand and bringing it closer to his lap. All he can mutter is, “It’s not enough.”
Luis sighs. “Will it ever be?”
It’s effortless, really, how little it takes for Luis to hurt him. It doesn’t seem to take great thought for Luis to say something, and for it to make Leon’s chest constrict. He feels it now in the way the knot in his throat is getting harder to ignore, and it’s quickly threatening to make itself known. So, Leon decides to let the lack of response speak for him.
Luis has always done an amazing job of filling in the blanks, anyway.
“Of course.” His husband slowly nods, tapping a finger on the steering wheel. Leon fights back against the sting in his eyes, hoping that at least Luis will package his truths in between something kinder.
Thankfully, Luis takes mercy on him as he interlinks their hands again. He presses a kiss against his wedding band, and keeps his mouth close to Leon’s hand as he says, “I’m really glad I married you. You know that, right?”
Leon swallows and nods. “I know,” he says hoarsely. “I’m glad I married you, too.”
“How could you not be?” Luis jokes, releasing Leon’s hand to tuck a strand of graying brown hair behind his ear. “I’m a catch. I’m aging so well. Don’t you think, Sancho?”
Leon rolls his eyes, but the laugh that accompanies it heavily dilutes his exasperation. He’s nearly overwhelmed by the joy that overtakes him at Luis’ light teasing and at the nickname he swore up and down he hated. But really, how could he ever hate anything that Luis lovingly attributed to him? It was a gift to be so openly adored by him, and the last thing Leon wants to do is take it for granted ever again.
“You are,” Leon replies earnestly. “You get prettier every day. You gotta show me how you do it.”
“Que ridículo.” Luis squints his eyes at him, but his lips can’t stop a smile from taking form. “I hate to admit it, but you’re more handsome than me. You don’t need any tips, cabrón.”
“More handsome than you?” The scoff that comes out of Leon’s mouth is exaggerated, and it amuses Luis a great deal as he brings a hand up to stifle his laughter.
“Im-pos-si-ble,” Leon continues, overenunciating every syllable. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Pretty sure I said that in my vows.”
In between a laugh, Luis says, “I don’t think you did.”
“Hm, let’s agree to disagree.”
“How about we go home so you can remind me how pretty you think I am?” Luis replies, indulgingly letting his hand return to its rightful place on Leon’s body. His hand trails up his arm until it stops on his bicep, and much like Leon did earlier with him, he gives the muscle an appreciative squeeze. “Do you want to drive, amor?”
While suspicious of his motives for offering, Leon can’t say no to those imploring gray eyes. Jesus, are they sparkling? Leon knows it’s just the reflection of the light, but sometimes he swears Luis just snatched up some stars from the sky and gave them a new home in his irises. Like an angel descended on Earth.
“Obviously,” Leon answers, unbuckling his seatbelt with haste. “That’s why I offered in the first place.”
Luis rolls his eyes, but mimics Leon’s movements and gets out of the car. He braces himself on the door and smiles, shooting Leon a wink. “Then take me home, Sancho.”