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In the brief time Bryan and Leon have spent together, tense at each other’s side as they ran from one harrowing near-death experience to the next, Leon had never actually seen Bryan genuinely smile. More often than not, Bryan’s expression is always twisted in fear, eyebrows furrowed enough to leave deep creases between them, with his dark blond hair falling in bloody, sweat-matted clumps over his forehead in a haphazard mess on his head—reminding Leon of a drowned rat the first time they met by that tunnel near the outskirts of town. Of course, there was also the wry twist of his lips whenever he made a sarcastic retort at Leon’s or his own expense, or sometimes Leon would catch Bryan hiding a slight one creeping up at the corners of his mouth with a roll of his eyes whenever Leon made a cheesy quip back at him.
Yet all of that pales in comparison to the brilliant one Bryan sends his way—eyes crinkling at the corners as his lips widen, broad and victorious, over a set of pearly whites. He even laughs delightedly about the wonders of video games. His shot (the last bullet either of them had) hit its mark in an admittedly impressive show of marksmanship, breaking the mop handle clean in half from several paces away and dangling thousands of feet in the air. The infected pour out of the NICU, their momentum and incoordination causing them to tumble out in a cascade of screaming, writhing corpses and sending the tangled mess of limbs that had been nipping at their heels for the past night down with them.
“Shit,” Bryan mumbles, breathless and incredulous to himself, unable to help the giddy hop to his step as he crosses the rest of the bridge. “Did you see what I did there, man? Looks like I’m not so bad at guns after all!”
Leon wants to say that he only relaxed once the screams died down, that he jumped back into action now that the immediate threat was gone, that he responded to Bryan’s brag with a tease of his own. He was a police officer—albeit a rookie one—and he knew that getting distracted on the job, stopping at such a pivotal moment, could cost him his life. Except Leon didn’t do either of those things. Instead he stays where he’s crouched, staring up at Bryan—the ridiculous medical courier that somehow braved an unspeakable Hell and had successfully come out the other side, unable to rip his eyes away from the lightness in his step, the charming tilt of his head, and the way each of his features seem to soften, leaving only the kindness that shadowed every decision he made tonight that led him here. Leon wishes to say that the effect is somewhat diminished by Bryan being completely covered in viscera, but the dichotomy only proves more mesmerizing.
Bryan’s smile dims in confused concern, not quite gone, just not as incandescent. Not as distracting. “Leon? Dude, are you okay?” he asks after a beat of silence, lowering himself to look Leon up and down and his smile all but disappears into a pinched frown, the wrinkle between his eyebrows returning. Leon can’t say he minds it, but it somehow turns Bryan’s already pallid complexion paler. “Fuck — did you get hurt?”
The police academy had somewhat prepared him for the apocalypse, but it certainly didn’t prepare him for this. Leon grunts as he stands, shaking his head as he carefully keeps his gaze away from Bryan’s face. “No,” he replies, sharper than he intended. He shakes his head again. “I think I might have hit my head when we fought that vomiting zombie.”
Bryan clicks his tongue, eyes flickering down to his bloodied socks in disgust. “I think I still have a bone to pick with that guy…”
“On our way down, maybe we can pick one up.”
“Oh, har de har har.” Bryan rolls his eyes as he wobbles back to his feet. The adrenaline must be leaving his body, Leon guesses, eyeing how his companion clutches the green bag tighter to his chest with one hand and balances himself against the wall with the other. “If you’re cracking jokes again, then you must be fine.”
“Are you fine, though?”
Bryan purses his lips, beginning the trek with shaky steps. “I will be once we get this cure up,” he briefly pauses, then huffs, clearly tired and beyond exasperated, “four more goddamn flights of stairs.”
Leon chuckles, shouldering his now-empty gun. Without bullets, it’s nothing more than a glorified metal bat. “If you need a lift, just yell.”
“Over my dead body!”
Leon snorts, moving quickly to catch up to and match his pace with Bryan's. As expected, when he glances at his companion’s face, there’s that peculiar half-smile just begging to be let loose right at the corners of his mouth. Only there when he doesn’t want to give Leon the satisfaction of an actual smile, or he’s trying not to be amused at their banter.
Except now, Leon isn’t really satisfied with just a half-smile or even a wry, self-deprecating one. He grips Bryan’s forearm firmly, stopping him as he makes another step up the stairs. Bryan glances at Leon, frowning. “What is it?”
“That shot you did earlier,” Leon says, letting a small, genuinely proud smile through. “That was good.”
Bryan’s eyes practically bulge out of his skull at the compliment as he blurts out, “Shit, really?”
“Do you want me to take it back?”
“No. Shit, dude. You’re serious?” Then he smiles again. It’s that same one that fully spreads across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. A flattered pink dusts the tips of his ears as Bryan practically glows under the praise. Leon is wise enough not to point it out.
“If only your car could see you now,” Leon says, unable to hide his cheeky smile, especially when Bryan squawks in offense.
“I told you that in confidence!”
“And that was your first mistake.”
“Dude.” Bryan sounds upset, but his smile is still firmly in place. He nudges him lightly, smile turning into a small laugh. “Besides, you’re wrong. My first mistake was hitting that lady with my car.”
Leon nods solemnly. “She was out to get you.”
“Who knew zombies held grudges?!”
Leon watches Bryan as he starts to climb those stairs again, a little steadier now, and prattles on about annoying zombie ladies and padlocks for some reason for the next four floors. He wonders idly if Bryan is aware of how easy it would be to fall in love with his smile if one weren’t careful.
Unfortunately for Leon, he’s not what you’d describe as careful.
Bryan turns around once he notices that Leon hasn’t moved to follow him. “Come on, man!” He lifts the thermal bag and gives it a small, gentle shake. “Let’s get this delivered already.” Despite his long tirade of gripes, he’s still smiling that damnable smile, and Leon knows without any doubt that he’ll do anything to keep it there.