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ghostdice · 4 months ago

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CHREON WEEK 2024 - Day 2: Post-Vendetta (+ Friends to Lovers)

SYNOPSIS: Leon's psychologist officially diagnosed him with loneliness, and miraculously, it’s curable. (A Redfield remedy of the Chris variety. Currently not FDA-approved!)

✧ fluffy, fun, with some light suggestive flirting & emotions sprinkled in! lots of parentheses, a handful of claire mentions, and- hey. is that a field mouse? ✧ 3.4k words!

A/N: hi. i've never written a full-length fic before, and to be 100% honest with you, this was written out of sheer indulgence, mostly between 12-6am. sorry if anything seems ooc/inconsistent, i promise i tried!! hope you enjoy <3

now on ao3!

✧˖*࿐

Leon tapped his foot against the carpeted floor, knee bouncing up and down- restless regardless of having nowhere else to be. He felt a little like an animal in a cage, despite the fact that he chose to be here. Sitting on the (admittedly comfortable) chair of his therapist’s office wasn’t how he’d ideally spend his rare free time, but after everything had blown over with Arias and the A-virus, he’d decided he needed to do something good for himself.

Over the past few months it had become something like a routine; Leon met her weekly, more or less (emphasis on less). He tried not to freeze up when she asked questions, and she brought out the space heater when he needed a defrosting.

“Listen, Leon,” she sighed, adjusting her glasses. The mannerism paired with her tone almost reminded him of Hunnigan. Almost.

“From what I have to go on- which is not a lot, by the way, but we’ll get there- it sounds like you’re on your own. Often.”

For a split-second her eyebrows knit together, lip twitching. Too often.

“I think,” she said slowly, glossy lips turning up into an encouraging smile, “you should try to socialize more. Connect with someone, whoever would be most comfortable for you. It would be a good reminder that you’re not alone- and you don’t have to be.”

Leon may not have been a doctor, but he was pretty sure it didn’t take a psychology degree to diagnose a guy like him with loneliness. Nonetheless, he swallowed his pride, scrolling through his phone contacts to the one person he could imagine humoring him. After a handful of scheduling hiccups and a good word in from Dr. Chambers- he managed to squeeze some time in with Chris, who had agreed with surprising ease.

(When Leon had mentioned it was his therapist’s suggestion, Chris hummed a note of thought, the low rumble just barely caught by his phone’s mic. “Sounds like she knows what she’s doing then,” he responded, chuckling lightly. A pause. “I’m glad you called me.” He mentioned something about working out their schedules and a quick goodbye before hanging up. Leon pulled his phone away from where it had been tucked against his ear, thumb tapping his calendar app. He’d never heard Chris’ voice so soft.)

The day arrived sooner than Leon had realized, and the moment he registered it, he considered cancelling. Between the constant waves of withdrawal as he tried to drink less and the sleepless nights that grew longer without the amber aid, he honestly felt like shit. Not to mention that his next mission debrief, if the target continued flying just below the radar, was supposed to be the day after his rendezvous with Chris. Doing nothing all day sounded much more promising.

He started typing and re-typing a few painfully pathetic excuses before giving up altogether, abandoning his phone somewhere in his sheets. Chris had specifically made time for this; he was coming all the way to Leon’s place for this. He would feel a little guilty, trying to cancel after everything he’d put him (and Rebecca) through at the BSAA.

6PM snuck up on him- as did a car, pulling into his driveway. Upon stepping out the front door, Leon was surprised. Not a car. A truck. Leon sidled up to the driver’s side, hands on his hips as he stared at Chris through the window. On cue, the pane of glass began to roll down.

“Didn’t realize you were All-American.”

Chris shook his head, grinning down at him.

“Gonna get in or what?”

The first thing that Leon noticed as he clambered into the passenger seat was how everything smelled like Chris- woody, musky, slightly spicy, with lingering cigarette smoke. The second was the button-up Chris wore over his plain t-shirt, patterned with blooming flowers and what appeared to be mice hidden in some of the petals. The third was that Chris was watching him expectantly, brown eyes warm with an emotion he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Intrigue? Amusement, maybe.

“What, do I need to tell you to buckle up?”

Leon blinked back at him for a moment, still processing, before rolling his eyes. Unable to stop the smugness setting into his expression as he opened his mouth to respond.

“If I don’t, are you going to do it for me?”

“Do it for you? Yeah, sure. How old are you again?”

“Memory’s already goin’, huh. That’s too bad. You might want to try sudoku or something, get that brain working again.”

Chris huffed; it was his turn to roll his eyes. He leaned across the center console, reaching for the passenger’s seat belt. A fresh wave of cologne passed over Leon; his eyebrows furrowed, gaze flicking between Chris’ hands, one pulling the belt across him and the other waiting to guide the latch into the buckle. There was a hint of sweetness he hadn’t noticed before. (Or maybe, he thought, it was a different cologne. It was similar to the scent the car still carried, sure, but there was a distinct note of something else. Whatever it was, it smelled nice. Suited him.)

Then there was the telltale click. “Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” Chris teased as he switched the truck into reverse. Just as Leon thought he’d pull away, back into his own seat, Chris’s arm hooked around, palm spread over the back of the passenger seat. As he tilted his head to peer out the back window, his eye caught Leon’s before breaking away again. The vehicle rolled back down the pavement smoothly.

It was a different cologne.

Leon scoffed, trying to regain his footing in the conversation. “…For buckling my seat belt? Oh, no, you’re right. I’m in your debt. Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to thank you later.”

Chris just shook his head again, unable to hide the smile on his face as he cranked up the volume of the car stereo.

They grabbed dinner together, and Leon learned a surprising amount about Chris. Way back when he had just joined STARS, he had gotten a used pick-up truck. It was mostly for when he’d visit Claire and she inevitably dragged him along to look for “spare parts” (”junk,” as Chris preferred to call it- though the fondness in his expression was hard to miss) to scrap while working on her motorcycle. The fact that he still drove one was mostly out of nostalgia, if not familiarity.

“Well, I know who I’m calling if my bike breaks down,” Leon joked.

Chris chuckled at that, wrinkling his nose a little. “I’m warning you now, she won’t fix it for free.”

“No, not Claire. You.”

A pause.

“Ohh, right. Because of my-”

“You know, since you have the-”

“-truck.”

A bout of silence washed over the two. They both busied themselves with their food until Leon reached over, taking one of Chris’ french fries.

“So,” he started, popping the fry into his mouth. “What’s with the shirt?”

“What,” Chris cast a glance down at his button-up, “you don’t like it?”

Leon hummed, tilting his head from one side to the other. Non-committal. It was a nice look, admittedly. He just hadn’t expected it after years of seeing him in tactical gear, dirtied by blood and grime and god-knows-what. Chris took a sip of his drink before setting the glass back down, and Leon swore he saw the faintest pout before his lips quirked back up.

“Guess."

Leon chewed, considering his options. Chris might have just enjoyed dressing like a more fashionable version of an Old Navy mannequin. Or maybe he liked flowers, or mice- or both? Leon reached for another fry, sifting for one that appeared more enticing than the rest. There was an obvious answer.

“Claire.”

Chris swiped a fry through some ketchup, grinning.

“Bingo.”

It was a birthday gift, to be exact. The field mice were meant to reference an inside joke between Chris and Claire; something that, upon remembering, made him burst with laughter. Leon had never seen Chris laugh like that- never really seen him laugh much at all. The sound was brighter than anything he’d heard before. He couldn’t help but smile back. (Maybe Redfield joy was just contagious. He’d seen it in Claire once or twice too.)

“Oh, come on. You have to tell me-”

Even as Chris tried to protest, he bubbled with laughter again, and Leon had to stave off a laugh of his own. (When was the last time he had to keep himself from genuinely giggling like this? He waved the thought away, enraptured by the flash of Chris’ teeth, the smile lines of his face. The gloom and doom could wait.)

“No- no, Claire will kill me.”

“Who would I tell? C’mon, Chris. It’s not like I’m gonna tell Claire if you say anything. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

Chris was looking anywhere but at Leon, whose playful desperation paired with his pretty blue puppy eyes proved to be a worthy opponent for his sworn oath, as an older brother, to keep it Redfield-exclusive (and to protect Claire’s pride).

“It can be our little secret.”

Chris risked a glimpse at Leon- a rookie mistake. His resolve wavered. He took a deep breath, to no avail. “Alright. Fine.” Chris leaned across the table, voice low, fighting off giggling fits as he tried to explain.

Leon learned two things from the mouse bit. One, apparently Redfields could find humor in anything. Or Chris was just bad at explaining whatever the hell he was trying to tell him. (In Chris’ defense, the joke originated when he and Claire were kids. Sometimes jokes become more about something you share with a person than the actual substance of the experience itself.) Two, Chris could be remarkably cute. Sure, Leon had always found him attractive, but there was something so endearing about this side of him.

…Huh.

One of Chris’ hands went up to fiddle with the collar of his patterned shirt. “It’s fun and all, but I’m more of a leather guy.” Leon nearly spat his water out, instead swiftly swallowing the mouthful he’d been trying to drink.

“Jackets, Leon. Leather jackets. You saw Claire’s, right? ‘Made in Heaven,’ across the back. I had one just like it.”

Leon nodded. Of course. Yeah, jackets. Now that he mentioned it, he did somewhat recall stumbling upon a leather jacket by Chris’ desk while rustling through the STARS office. (He’d found a first aid spray tucked in a bag by what he could have only assumed used to be Rebecca’s desk. Funny how she’d helped him then without even knowing.) That made sense. Chris would look good in a leather jacket.

“Although, I do have some gear. Haven’t broken it out in forever.”

He choked that time. Chris laughed again, breathless, delighted by his reaction. If Leon had been looking up, he’d have seen the way Chris’ brown eyes glittered.

As the server passed them the check, Chris swiftly took the bill. “My treat,” he said simply.

The drive back was livelier than the first time around. Chris sang more as they listened to one of the old CD’s he had burned over the years. Leon hadn’t realized how much Chris enjoyed music- hadn’t realized a lot about him until it was laid out just within his reach today. He listened, humming along here and there, glad that he was too busy watching the road to notice the way Leon tilted his head just enough to watch him.

“I used to play guitar,” Chris mentioned. “Back in Raccoon. Before everything.” Leon looked at him sideways, feeling his own fingertips. Imagining Chris in the late 90’s: rowdy, boy-ish, trying to figure out the frets for a chord with his pick between his lips. If they’d met then, he’d have been doomed. Chris was everything he couldn’t have had then- not that it would have stopped him from chasing him like a stray anyways.

He parked in his driveway again- where they started, barely a few hours ago.

“I’m really proud of you, Leon.”

Chris’ voice was soft. He was looking somewhere far away, past the driver’s side window. There it was again- that feeling that had been trailing them all evening.

“When Rebecca and I “interrupted your vacation,” you… I-” he hesitated, head bowing a little.

“I won’t lie, it scared the hell out of me.” Leon watched his jaw clench, scarred fingers flexing around the steering wheel. “I saw the worst of myself in you. It hurt me to see you like that, especially because I know you’re better than that.” His voice trembled a little on that last phrase. Better than I am.

Chris’ shoulders tensed, gaze finally flickering back to meet Leon’s. His lips were pressed tight, holding back all the words he’d been trying to string together before they tumbled out as clumsily as the last. He sighed heavily; he liked to think he was usually a little more put together than this. Leon, on the other hand, was quieter than Chris had expected him to be. He gave the slightest of nods- go on.

“What I’m trying to say is: I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I’m sorry, Leon.”

Chris let go of the wheel, laying his hands in his lap.

“I’m so glad you’re taking the steps to get the help you need right now. I just wish I could’ve helped you sooner.”

Slowly, Leon reached out a hand, gently clasping Chris’ shoulder. The ghost of a flinch flashed across his face, and Leon’s hand hovered, tentatively finding a different place. Watching carefully, he lowered the hand experimentally, rubbing a soothing circle into the spot when it seemed safe. Chris closed his eyes, humming with appreciation.

(Leon made a mental note of it. He wanted to learn these things too- so that when Chris needed a comforting touch, he knew precisely how to give it to him. He’d map the constellations of scars, and with time he’d be able to navigate him as if second nature. Chris would come around again, call Leon when he needed him. Just like he had called Chris.)

“You’re helping me now. That means something, doesn’t it?”

Chris chuckled wearily. “I guess. But-”

Leon frowned at that, opting to interrupt him before he spiraled further. “Nuh-uh. No but’s. It’s about time you give yourself some damn credit, Chris.”

He was quick to unbuckle his seat belt, shoving the center console so that it folded backwards, granting him space in the middle seat. Without missing a beat, Chris leaned back, allowing Leon to crowd him into the corner of the car, between the driver’s seat and the window.

“Okay, Leon, I get it-”

“No, I don’t think you do. Not until you acknowledge it.”

“Acknowledge what?”

“That you’re helping me.”

“But-”

Leon shot him a pointed glare: no more excuses. “Chris.”

“Okay, fine. I’m helping you.”

“Doing a great job at it too. We had a nice dinner, and then you had to go and get sappy on me.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “Weren’t you trying to comfort me?”

Leon just shrugged, feigning something like nonchalance. “I was, but then I remembered that you ruined our date.”

“I didn’t ruin our-”

The word registered late for both of them. Leon was first to flush pink, silently hoping that it was subdued by the sunset. Awash with its dreamy hues, the brown of Chris’ eyes were honey-like, and for a moment he thought he caught his pupils grow just a tiny bit wider. He settled in the middle seat dumbly, ears alight.

“I mean. You ruined our night.” A pause. “That my therapist specifically prescribed.” A wince. A well-timed call from Hunnigan would’ve been nice. A sudden BOW attack didn’t sound too shabby either- something, anything that could get Leon out of the grave he had dug himself into.

But then Chris’ hand grasped Leon’s chin, turning his face so they were looking at one another.

“Sorry, Leon. I didn’t mean to ruin our night. Think your therapist will forgive me?”

“That, uh. Depends.”

“On…?”

“Whether or not this was a date.”

(“You kinda gave me the whole boyfriend experience tonight: you got all dressed up for me, paid for my meal, turned on the waterworks.” Leon paused, catching the double entendre. His cheeks puffed slightly as he exhaled, a gleam in his eye. “Okay. Maybe not the full boyfriend experience, but the night’s still young. Hell of a lot younger than us.” Chris laughed at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “We’re not actually that old, you know.”)

Chris couldn’t stop himself from smiling. His thumb caressed along the apple of Leon’s cheek. “Hmm. Well, I guess that’ll depend.”

Leon rolled his eyes, affection softening the action. “On?”

“Whether or not your therapist prescribes all your dates. ‘Cause if she does, I’ve got a few ideas I’d need to run by her.”

Before Leon could even formulate a response, his phone buzzed. Annoyed to be interrupted, he pulled it out of his pocket, sparing a glance at the notification. He regretted checking it instantly. New info on the target gave HQ just enough of a lead to move his mission debrief- they needed him in the office ASAP. He groaned, frustrated. Chris’ hand trailed upward, running his fingers through his hair. It soothed him surprisingly easily, placating him just enough to not totally sour his mood.

“I gotta go,” Leon sighed. Chris nodded- he knew the demand (the sacrifice) of their line of work better than anyone else. Leon pulled away, out of the warmth of Chris’ palm. The short walk up to his doorstep had never felt longer- not even when he’d limped home after he’d screwed his knee way back in Spain. As he slotted the key into the door lock, big hands found his waist, twirling him around.

Chris leaned in, pressing a kiss to Leon’s cheek- surprisingly gentleman-like. Chaste. Shy, even. His heart almost ached at the feeling: a taste of domesticity, of normalcy. Of the life neither of them could truly have. But if they could find it in moments like this- the smallest ember of hope glowed in Leon’s chest, and seeing how Chris smiled at him, he knew that he must have felt it too.

✧˖

Later, after the meeting was over, Leon checked his phone, and to his surprise, he had a few texts waiting for him- from Chris.

‘It wasn’t originally a date, by the way. I did have high hopes, but I wasn’t going to let that get in the way of being here for you. You’re my friend first, Leon.

But if you still want to go on that date with me, I’ll make it up to you- for ruining our night.

I was being serious; I have a few ideas already.

Had them for a while.

Next time, let’s leave your therapist out of it, though, okay? Kinda kills the mood, don’t you think?

And don’t think I forgot about you being “indebted” to me. Yeah, I’m talking about the seat belt thing again- y’know, for an ex-cop, you sure as hell could learn a thing or two about car safety. I could teach you, if you want; I was STARS, after all.

Hey, speaking of ideas, I’ve got a few for how you can thank me- after our first non-therapy date. Although, I’m starting to think this helped me a whole lot more than it helped you. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to give you a real helping hand next time.

See you again soon.’

Leon chuckled to himself. Whenever he got back, he would have to buy his therapist flowers or something- and a bouquet for Chris, too. (Who knows. Maybe he’d toss a plush mouse in there, make it special. Anything to see that signature Chris smile.)

#chreonweek2024 #chreon week 2024 #chris redfield #leon kennedy #chreon #chris x leon #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #thanks 4 reading!! i know this one's a little long and sometimes doesn't seem to go anywhere but! i hope it was. something!#i obviously follow my train of thought a little too much BUT IT'S OKAY!!#im gonna press the funny post button before i lose the courage #typewriter.txt #fic.exe

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