Summary: Leon is tasked with training a new agent. He vows to protect her, but doesn't expect to fall for her.
Tags/Warnings: Fem reader, no use of Y/N, suicidal thoughts, violence, protective Leon, smut, trauma dumping lol.
Note: I've been super depressed lately so this fic has been kinda therapeutic to write. Protective Leon makes my heart flutter. Also this is my first time writing smut! Hope you like it <3
Leon Scott Kennedy worked best alone. It was easier that way, safer. He found it was often easier to work if he didn’t have some soft-hearted inexperienced rookie trailing along after him. He couldn’t stand to get attached to them, only for them to perish. He had seen far too many good men and women die at the hands of evil. The weight of every death hung heavy on him, a reminder of his failures to do what he had long ago promised to do. Save everyone. If he can’t even save his goddamn team, how is he expected to save the world?
Seven years since Racoon City, seven years since his autonomy was stripped away. He supposed it was for the best, although Leon couldn’t help but feel jealous of those who had to choose what to do with their lives. Claire was never given the choice between death or service, no, she got to run off and play humanitarian. He gritted his teeth, knowing he was being unfair. Of course, if Claire had known leaving him and Sherry would have resulted in them being kidnapped she would have helped. He tried not to hold it against her. He tried to remind himself that at the very least, he was still helping the world, saving it from those who would seek to destroy it. But as he walked down the halls of whatever government agency he was aiding that day, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hatred for those who had been given a choice to be there.
Most people he came into contact with at work didn’t even believe in B.O.W’s. And why should they? The government wiped the slate clean every time, burying the events so that the world wouldn’t panic. Very few government agents knew the horrors of the bio-weapons, and even fewer were properly trained on how to deal with them. The survival rate for agents like himself was low, to say the least. Hell, Leon felt like he had seen most of them die himself. Ripped apart, crushed like a bug, necks bitten and torn. He had become so desensitized to gore and violence over the years that it hardly even phased him anymore. Leon worked best alone, so his annoyance when it was announced he would be training a new rookie was astronomical.
“Hunnigan, you have to be joking right? I’m the last guy they want training someone,” he argued, pacing the office of perhaps the closest thing he had to a friend in the government.
Ingrid Hunnigan, ever the level-headed individual, merely shrugged. “They thought your experience with B.O.Ws, along with the recent success of your Spain mission, made you the best candidate to train her.” Hannigan paused from clacking at her keyboard.
“If things go well, they will most likely make her your new partner.” She said it so casually as if this wasn’t a tremendous update.
Their relationship was one built off of duty. Ever since his mission in Spain last year, he had taken a liking to the no-nonsense woman. She let him complain and whine about his job; about his loneliness. And while she couldn’t do anything to help him, she was able to provide him with a small amount of validation and comfort. The field support agent was perhaps the only person aside from his higher-ups who knew of his forced involvement in the agencies.
“If she lasts that long,” Leon grumbled under his breath. Hannigan cast him a sour look but Leon shrugged it off, knowing he didn’t get a say in the situation- he never did. Choice wasn’t something in his job description, if he had a choice he wouldn’t be here at all. Or would he? For the past seven years, he had been trained to be an agent, trained to be the perfect weapon against eldritch abominations created by capitalistic psychopaths, and before that he had spent years at the police academy, training to serve. All his adult life he had been taught to serve and obey, and he was pretty damn good at it too. An obedient little soldier, ready to die for his masters. If Leon had a choice would he still be here? He couldn’t fathom the possibility of a normal life anymore, not with the knowledge that the world was so corrupted and ugly, ready to implode at any moment. Leon never had the option to choose this career, why anyone would be beyond him?
Mumbling a goodbye, he left his friend before returning to his own office. He slumped down in the chair, booting up his computer. Might as well figure out who his partner is anyway. Leon knew it was a bad idea to get attached, but curiosity killed the cat. Pulling up her file, he was surprised to see how young she was, not even past her early twenties yet. Most recruits tended to be older, and more experienced in military combat and whatnot. An unease washed over him as he read her file closely, a pang of anger sparking in his chest. The girl was in a similar boat as him. Wrong place, wrong time. Welcome to the club, kid. She had been present during an isolated virus outbreak at a University football game and had the unfortunate accolade of being one of the few survivors. Anyone with the capability to stand up to an infected tended to capture the attention of the government. Leon gritted his teeth, trying to calm the rage that brewed inside him. Had they blackmailed her into agreeing to join? Threatening her family, her own life, if she didn’t comply? He hadn’t even met her yet and he was already miserating over her.
Leon looked closer at her photo, taking in the saddened but hopeful spark in her eyes. Was she trying to see the bright side of the situation? Did she think she would get to be a hero? Leon let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair as he tried not to dwell on the potential of losing another person, another partner, another friend; the heart can only handle so much. “I’ll try and keep you safe” he murmured to himself, glancing back up at the photo on his screen. This time it would be different. It had to be.
_______
It was a sunny day when he met his new partner. Leon stood in the training room, rays of light beaming through the windows as a suit-clad man escorted the young woman in, no doubt her handler. Leon sucked in a breath, remaining stoic as they approached, trying to calm his racing nerves. Despite what he might tell others, Leon wasn’t exactly well-versed in talking to women. He used to consider himself a smooth talker in college, but ever since he left the academy, his exposure to flirting opportunities had been limited, to say the least. The closest he had gotten to flirting was with Ada last year in Spain. Can it be called flirting when you have a knife to their throat? However, one night in seven years was still a losing streak in his eyes.
The nameless suit briefly introduced the woman, whom upon hearing her name called, hesitantly reached out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Agent Kennedy,” she greeted awkwardly.
Leon huffed a chuckle, an eyebrow quivering in amusement as he slowly reached for her hand. “Please, just call me Leon,” he insisted, shaking her hand. It was soft, not yet hardened by callouses, and her grip was weak. Hands that had not seen battle. They shouldn’t see battle at all. She shouldn’t be here to begin with.
As the agent departed, Leon took in the sight of his new trainee. He had been told she had been put through basic military training, but it would be up to him to prepare her for the unpredictability of bio-weapons. Without hesitation, he unsheathed his knife, slashing it toward her and she yelped in surprise, arching backward to avoid the blade.
“What the hell?!” she protested, dodging yet another attack from him. Her movements were clumsy, but fast- he could work with that.
“You think a bio-weapon is gonna give you a heads up when it’s about to kill you?” He retorted, his knife nicking her cheek. “You think a corpse is gonna ask permission to bite you? That a mutated beast is gonna wait for your turn?” The girl grits her teeth, dodging and weaving his slashes. “You have to be ready for anything because these things will not hesitate to kill you.” His blade came into contact with her arm as he knocked her down and she fell with a grunt, glaring up at him. Leon bit back his tongue, ignoring the way her frustrated look pained him. It was for her good, he couldn’t let her training be easy, not if she expected to live through the next few years. As much as Krauser was a psychotic sadist, Leon couldn’t help but admit that his brutal training methods had been useful. He reached out his hand, the young woman hesitating before taking it.
“ That’s one hell of a hello,” she grumbled, and a smirk formed on Leon’s mouth. He pulled her up to her feet, giving her a pat on the shoulder.
“Don’t take it personally,” he chuckled softly. “Now, let’s go get you bandaged up.”
____________
The seasons start to change and Leon starts to dread going to work less. Despite the colder nip in the air, he feels warm, and eager at the prospect of seeing his rookie. She has acclimated well to her new role, and while Leon wishes he could punch the son of a bitch who forced her to enlist, he can’t help but feel a spark of gratitude that she was here.
The rookie isn’t overtly chatty, and Leon can tell she still doesn’t fully trust him. He can see it in her eyes, like a deer eyeing a wolf. She’s polite and respectful, dutifully calling him honorifics and obeying commands, but Leon isn’t fooled.
There is snow in the air as he makes her run through an obstacle course. After all, not every mission she’s sent on is going to have pristine weather. She’s miserable, he can tell even from afar. She trudges through the snow, hauling herself over wooden walls, leaping over logs, and swinging from a rope. By the time she practically collapses over the finish line, her ears and nose are tinged red from the cold, and he can see her breath in the cold winter air.
“You took too long,” he said plainly, checking his stopwatch. “You took nearly five minutes, you can’t pass unless you do it in under two.”
The girl is panting, trying to regain her breath. She glances at Leon, a look of annoyance plastered clear on her face. “Fuck off” she wheezes, and a bead of sweat rolls down her forehead.
Leon can’t help but laugh at her crass words. He remembers how difficult it is, trudging through the snow or mud through the finish line. He’s lost count of how many times he’s done this over the years, how many times Krauser pushed him until he was at wit's end. Leon doesn’t want to be a cruel footnote in the history of her life. He doesn’t want her to look back on this chapter of her life with disdain as she remembers him. Leon isn’t sure of what he wants, or what he needs to give up to admit what he suspects deep down. He shakes his head, trying to push any conflicting feelings down deep inside him, burying this fleeting hesitation along with the rest of his hopes, dreams, and suppressed emotions. Leon isn’t here to get sentimental, he’s here to make sure this rookie doesn’t get murdered on her first mission.
“One more time” he orders, looking away from her and back over to the snow-covered course. “After that, you can take a break,” Leon adds, almost hesitantly. He shouldn’t be soft with her, but as her face lights up at the prospect of being able to rest, he can’t help but feel his heart flutter with a palpitation of happiness. He watches as she takes off once more, a newfound sense of energy overtaking her as she maneuvers the course. Leon can’t help but feel mesmerized as he watches her in a trance-like state, a surge of pride washing over him as she sprints over the last obstacle, gasping for breath as she crosses the finish line.
“One minute and forty-six seconds,” he said, stopping the timer as she smiled triumphantly.
“Nice to know your reward motivated, perhaps from here on out I’ll carry a little bag of treats for you,” he snarks, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips as she rolls her eyes at him.
“Woof” she responds dryly, “Now I believe I was promised a break?”
Leon nods, smiling to himself as he leads her towards the concrete building. “Let’s go rookie, I’m pretty sure the dining hall made hot chocolate,” he says.
“Is it good?” she asks, trailing after him.
“Not at all,” he admits. She laughs, throwing her head back as she does so. Leon can’t help but stop in his tracks, admiring her beauty as the snow falls around them.
__________________
It’s a quiet night, far too quiet for Leon’s liking. It’s the kind of silence that puts him on edge, reminiscent of a calm before the storm. He knows deep down he’s safe in this military facility, that there is no monster lurking in the dark shadows of his room, but he can’t bring himself to fully believe it. He tosses and turns in a light slumber, waking up in a cold sweat, heart racing and mouth agape. Nights like these aren’t uncommon; he's used to waking up in a panic. Not even in sleep can he escape the ghosts of his past, the terror that has plagued him for years. The line between nightmare and reality doesn’t exist for him, and he dreads the prospect of sleeping again. He pushes himself out of bed, his body aching from the thin mattress as he throws on a random t-shirt. He ran out of his hidden liquor supply a few weeks ago, but perhaps the kitchen has something that could calm his nerves. Leon feels weak admitting that alcohol is one of the few things that allows him to temporarily forget his trauma. He’s a man on a mission as he slinks through the halls of the base, careful to be quiet. He’d hate to have to explain to a commanding officer why he was out at this time. Sorry about that General, I was just looking for some spare booze cause I had a nightmare! That’d go over well. The kitchen is unlocked and seemingly abandoned as he peeks his head in, making a beeline to the cupboards. Lady Luck is on his side as he finds a small bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Bingo. The sound of sniffling startles him, shooting his head up to see the rookie curled up by a window, moonlight pouring down over her as she meets his gaze.
“What are you doing here at this hour?” Leon asked, trying to keep a fragment of authority in his voice. It comes out cracking, his voice still husky from sleep and raw with emotions.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “You?”
“Tried to sleep, didn’t go over well,” he mumbled, grabbing two glasses. “Care for a glass?” he asks, already pouring one for her. He knows the answer.
“Please” she mutters, rubbing her forehead. Leon knows this look all too well. He pours them both a hefty shot, placing a glass in front of her as he takes the opposing seat to her. The rookie grabs the glass, swirling its contents around as she drinks deeply.
“I can tell you want to say something, might as well get it off your chest,” he offers, drinking from his cup. When he was in the academy Leon used to hate straight liquor. It burned his throat and made his eyes water, stinging on the way down. Now, Leon enjoyed the burn, it reminded him he could still feel. He didn’t even flinch any more as he drank it.
“You wouldn’t understand,” the rookie sighs. Leon can see that her eyes are glassy and bloodshot, with heavy bags under her eyes.
“I might be the only one who does,” he countered.
The rookie doesn’t say anything at first, just looking at him with a haunted expression. “I had to shoot my friend,” she said, turning her gaze to the window. The moonlight shines down on her, casting her in an ethereal glow. “One of those infected bit her, tore a chunk right out of her arm. She swore up and down that she was fine, but after a little bit she had to sit down,” she paused, pursing her lips as she got lost in the memory. “I was holding her hand when she died, was with her to the end. But then she came back, thought maybe I was going crazy, that maybe God was looking out for me. Then she looked at me with those pale dead eyes and lunged at me. Had to put a bullet in her head.” The girl tensed, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“You did the right thing,” Leon assured her. The rookie doesn’t look very convinced, just shaking her head. “I had to shoot my boss,” he murmured in exchange. “First day on the force back in ‘98, I was wandering the halls of the Racoon City police department when I found him. Never even got a proper chance to meet him, everything had gone to shit by the time I had arrived,” he paused to chuckle dryly. “His name was Marvin, only knew him for a few hours, but he died saving me. I wouldn’t be here without him.” Leon paused, feeling a lump in his throat. He quickly took a sip of his whiskey, not wanting to cry in front of her. “He turned too and came back as one of those creatures. Had to shoot him, right in the head,” he sighed, feeling his eyes dampen with tears.
“Sometimes I think about all the ways I could have helped him, how maybe if I had just done something differently he would still be alive. God, maybe if I had gotten there sooner I could have saved more people..” he trailed off, realizing he was rambling.
He clears his throat as he notices she is staring at him, a pitiful look on his face. No, it wasn't pity. Leon was far too familiar with pity, he faces it damn near every day. He can hear their hushed whispers in the office as they huddle around the water cooler, casting glances at him as he passes by. His story is infamous in the agencies he visits. Leon isn’t some fabled hero or even a person. He’s a tragedy that people love to revisit. He can’t let the past die, not when it’s become so woven into his sense of self. The girl doesn’t regard him in pity, but rather a look of mutual sorrow and misery. She doesn’t try to dab at her tears as they begin to fall more freely.
“It was my fault my friend died,” she said, her voice thick with choked-back sobs. “I was the one who had dragged her to that game, where they released the virus,” she sniffles. “It was chaos, the stampede to leave the arena must have been worse than the infected. All you could hear was screaming, an endless roar of it. All I could focus on was her hand, gripping it to make sure she didn’t get lost in the sea of people. We were both so hopped up on adrenaline we didn’t even notice she had gotten bit,” she had to pause to take a deep breath, and regain her composure.
“Swat team had come, every police officer in the county too,” she shakes her head as if trying to get rid of the memory. “Not that it made much of a difference, pretty sure most of them perished in the end. I grabbed a gun off of a fallen cop, and the two of us managed to get away from the crowd.” Her face scrunches up as she recounts the night. “If I hadn’t made her go, she’d maybe still be alive.”
“It’s not your fault she died,” Leon said softly, hesitating before reaching his hand out to grasp hers. “We can’t ponder on the what-ifs, at least that’s what I read in one of those psychology magazines.” This makes her chuckle, her lips curling into a small smile as their eyes meet. It’s a strange way to bond, trauma dumping in the middle of the night, but it feels as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, making it a little easier to breathe. Moonlight drapes over them and Leon wishes he could freeze time.
______
Gunshots cut through the silence as Leon observes the rookie shoot. Her brow is furrowed with determination, a scowl on her lips as attempts to shoot the targets in the head. Body shots at best might stun an infected, and probably won’t do jackshit against a larger mutated beast. Headshots guarantee damage to some extent at least. Her posture is perfect-confident, determined-but there's a flicker of something else in her eyes, something that catches his attention. Anger, maybe? Or frustration? The gunshot rings out again. Another headshot. The cluster of bullets digs deep into the skull of her target, her scowl morphing into a satisfied smirk at the small victory.
“Not bad,” Leon said, a strange sense of pride welling in his chest. “You know your way around a gun.” She pauses, lowering the weapon as she turns to look at him. Her expression shifts into something he can’t quite place.
“Thanks, the only thing my dad ever taught me,” she said, huffing a dry laugh. “Hated it at the moment, but I suppose I’m thankful now.” Her words are flippant although her body has tensed up.
“Didn’t get along so well I take it?” Leon questioned, cocking an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall. He can feel a familiar pang in his chest, the tug of commissary.
“That would be an understatement,” she rolls her eyes, Leon watches her carefully as she clicks the safety on and places the pistol on the table, her fingers lingering on the cool metal for just a fraction of a second too long.
“He was better than some fathers... but looks like I got served a helping of daddy issues anyway. He died a few years back, sometimes I’m almost thankful he passed before..” she trails off, gesturing to the room. Her words hang in the air between them, far more intimate than she probably intended. Leon stays silent for a moment longer than usual, not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because he’s unsure if he should say anything. There's a softness in her voice he didn’t expect. He struggles to remember his father, his family was taken from him when he was little. Sometimes if he tries hard enough he can see flashes of his face and feel the warmth of his embrace. But that’s all they are. Flashes of his past.
“I get it. Doesn’t always go the way we want, does it?” Her gaze flickers over to him, catching his eyes for just a moment, and that’s when Leon feels the change in the air. The weight of the conversation lingers, and the quiet moments stretch longer between them than either of them is comfortable with.
“It never does,” she says at last, sighing as she combed her fingers through her hair. “What about you? You close with your old man?”
“Old man died along with the rest of my family when I was a kid,” Leon says with a shake of his head. He pauses, searching through the distant memories as he tries to recall what his father was like. “I don’t have any bad memories of him, but don’t have many good ones either. He’s more of a feeling that haunts me.” The rookie just looks at him with an unreadable expression, as if she’s scanning his face.
“I guess we’re both haunted,” she says at last, breaking the silence between them. Leon can’t help but feel his lips tug into a smile. Vulnerability is not something that comes easily to him these days. It’s a weakness, something that can be used against him. Open yourself up too much and people are bound to steal bits and pieces from you. However, around the rookie, Leon can’t help but feel his walls weakening, baring his scars to her. He knows he should feel terrified to let anyone see the broken pieces of him, but all he can feel is relief that someone can see the real him.
_________
Leon can feel his heart in his throat as he sits down in Hunnigan’s office. It’s like a lump he can’t swallow, his esophagus tightening as if he’s about to choke. He knows why he was called here and it’s a moment he has been dreading since the rookie was assigned to him. He watches silently as his friend and colleague flips through the reports that he has provided on her, updates on her training and progress. The decision to send her into the field. To risk her life, to trust her on missions that could end in bloodshed or worse. He watches, almost disassociated, as Hunnigan flips through the reports on her progress.
“Everything looks good. Excellent, even,” she says, her voice smooth, confident. She adjusts her glasses, casting a rare smile in his direction. “You must feel proud.”
He just shrugs, unable to calm the nervousness swelling in his stomach. “I’m ecstatic,” he grumbles gruffly. He knows he’s being rude, she’s congratulating him on doing his job. He trained her and turned her from a survivor to an agent deemed worthy of missions. But Leon hates the idea of her out there in the field, risking her life. Too many what-ifs float through his mind, the unpredictability of their line of work fueling doomsday scenarios in his head.
Hunnigan doesn’t miss the bite in his tone. She glances up, her brow furrowing in mild concern, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she returns her focus to the papers in front of her, her fingers tapping lightly against the desk.
“I’m sure she’s ready,” he mutters under his breath, but it doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. Leon’s hands twitch, itching to grab something, anything, to release the frustration building inside him. He can feel his stomach twisting into knots, and the air feels too thick to breathe.
“Leon, you did everything you could,” she says, her tone more measured now. “You trained her. You gave her the tools. Now, it’s up to her.”
Leon huffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His jaw clenches. “Yeah? And what happens when it’s not enough? When the situation’s too much for her? You know how unpredictable this job is. I know how unpredictable this job is.”
He stands up abruptly, pacing in front of her desk, every step fueled by the tight knot of anger and fear in his gut. His voice rises, rough with emotion. “ I didn’t sign up to watch her get torn apart, to watch everyone I fucking care about die!” hd snaps. “I did it…to protect people, to save lives. How many lives have been lost because of me? Because of my failures?” His voice trails off, the anger morphing into bitter sorrow. Finally, he grits his teeth and mutters, “I’m not letting her get killed out there.”
Hannigan smiles faintly, but it’s not one of triumph. More like understanding. “Then trust her, Leon. She’s ready. And she’ll prove it to you.”
He opens his mouth, ready to argue again, but something in her expression stops him. With a sharp exhale, he takes a seat again, tension still coiled in every muscle. It will be different this time.
________
It’s a quiet night, one of those rare peaceful moments that Leon always savors. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, a recognition of the hard work and training that had earned her a spot among the rest of them. She had passed, she was ready for missions, ready for the chaos and carnage that came with this job. And yet, all Leon could think about was the heavy weight of what that meant: ready to die. He takes another gulp of whiskey, the burn settling somewhere in his chest. He had taken her to a nearby bar, and it by no means was an elegant establishment. The decor was dated and dusty with the patrons even more so. Leon couldn’t help but find it charming, however.
She’s sitting across from him, smiling, talking about the future, trying to hide her quelling nerves. The dim lights of the bar cast shadows over her face, her body swaying slightly as she tapped her finger along to the beat of the old jazz music that permeated from the dusty jukebox in the corner. She sips at her beer, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes as she notices him staring at her.
“Do I have something on my face?” she asks, suddenly self-conscious as her hand rises to dab at her lips.
He shakes his head, his lips tugging into an easy smile. “Do you want to dance?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and steady, almost like he wasn’t giving himself the chance to second-guess it. Her eyes widened a fraction in surprise. He hadn’t been one to make impulsive moves, especially with her. Still, there’s something in the way she holds her gaze that makes his stomach flutter. A chuckle escapes her, and she leans back slightly in her chair, putting on a dramatic sigh.
“Smooth,” she teases, but she doesn’t hesitate. She slides her palm into his, letting him pull her up with a small, amused shake of her head. “But I guess I’ll accept.”
“I’m hurt,” Leon says, gasping in mock offense as he pulls her gently toward the dance floor.
“And here I thought we had something special!” He spins her around as he pulls her close to him, hands resting on her waist as they sway to the beat. A soft laugh bubbles out of her, warm and light, before she looks up at him, the playfulness in her eyes softening for just a moment.
“We do,” she says quietly, her voice taking on an almost shy edge. “I don’t think I’ve been able to properly thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
The words hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Leon pauses, his heart skipping a beat. “Don’t mention it,” he says with a smile. His hand tightens slightly around hers, but he doesn’t let go. “You’re a damn good agent. You’ve earned everything.”
She doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes are focused on his face now, as if in a trance. His breath catches in his chest, and for a moment, the music around them seems to fade into a dull hum. It’s just the two of them now, dancing slowly, the rhythm of their steps matching the thudding pulse in his own heart.
Her hands slide up his arms, fingers brushing the edges of his shoulders as she pulls him into an embrace, He can feel the warmth of her body, the soft thumping of her heart against him. Leon’s own heart picks up speed, not used to such physical displays of genuine affection.
The distance between them feels like it’s finally being bridged. Something unspoken lingers in the air, a fragile tension that neither of them can ignore anymore. His hands find her waist, and he pulls her just a little closer, feeling the slight hitch in her breath as she melts into him.
She stays quiet for a moment, her body moving gently with his, the music guiding their movements.
“Leon,” she whispers, her voice low but sincere, “I don’t think I ever said it, but… I trust you. More than anyone.” A lump forms in his throat, and he closes his eyes for a second, steadying himself. He pulls back just a bit, enough to look into her eyes.
“You don’t have to say it,” he says, his voice soft. “I know.” The space between them, once filled with the unspoken tension of their roles, seems to vanish. And in that moment, Leon realizes that it’s not just trust they share, it’s something deeper, something neither of them had been willing to acknowledge until now. Her hand rises to his chest, pressing against his heart as their faces draw nearer. The soft glow of the bar lights paints everything in shades of amber, casting them in a haze of fleeting warmth.
“Leon,” she murmurs again, her voice barely a breath against his lips. He doesn’t need her to finish the sentence. He can feel it in the way her body trembles just slightly as she leans in, her lips so close to his that he can almost taste the moment. Without thinking, he closes the distance between them, the kiss soft and gentle, all things Leon isn’t used to. It’s a slow realization, a gradual unfolding of something neither of them had anticipated, but something that feels right. The world outside this quiet moment fades away. All that’s left is the warmth that Leon has been seeking for so long.
_________________
Everything has gone to hell. It started decently enough, a typical case of a B.O.W that had been released into the public, stirring up terror. It all went wrong so fast. An explosion rattles through the air, and Leon can feel the heat from the flames, the force pushing him back, falling onto the pavement. The pain from the impact is forgotten as he hears her scream. His heart stops beating as he forces himself up, finding a new sense of adrenaline as he races to where the creature has her cornered. It's one hell of a genetic fuck-up, a big hulking beast with withered skin that looks like it’s been burnt. Elongated limbs drag on the ground as it skulks toward her, bony claws decorating the tips. Its gnashing teeth are aimed at ripping into her throat, the beast's mouth is already stained with blood. Leon can’t think straight, the only thing in his mind is her. He races as fast as his strained legs can carry him, a wild frantic look in his eyes as he raises his gun to aim. The creature has her in its grip, its mutated hand grabbing her by the throat, threatening to crush her windpipe as it dangles her above the pavement.
“No!” Leon cries out, feeling as though his entire world might shatter. Her legs are twitching and kicking, eyes bulging out of her skull as she opens her mouth in a vain attempt to suck in even a breath of air. Leon aims and sends a cluster of bullets towards its skull. The beast roars in pain, flinging the girl against the pavement as it lumbers towards him. Leon grits his teeth as he sends more bullets flying toward it, and by some sheer luck, one manages to go right through its eye. He breathes out a sigh of relief as it finally stumbles forward, succumbing to the fatal blow. His victory is short-lived though, his eyes falling on the rookie. She still hasn’t moved, remaining limp on the cold cement. Leon kneels beside her, ignoring the pain from his own aching body as he gently cradles her in his arms. She is pliable and unmoving, like a ragdoll in his arms as he brings her to his chest. Her lips are tinged blue from lack of oxygen and her neck is inflamed from the strangulation, but Leon breathes out a sigh of relief as his fingers find her pulse, a steady thump emanating from her. As the chaos fades away, reinforcements finally arrive at the scene, Leon holds her in his arms, unwilling to let go. A medic approaches, trailed by a pair of agents.
"Please," he bemoans, trying to quell the fear in his heart as the medic kneels down beside him, gently taking the girl from his arms. He watches intently, trying to ignore the growing tightness in his chest. She was hurt. He hadn't been enough to protect her and she had gotten hurt. He feels tears prick in the corners of his eyes and he has to remind himself that he is being watched and judged right now. Leon forces himself to remain stoic, however on the inside, he can't help but lament that he failed her.
____________
The days following the mission were quiet. Leon had invited her to rest in his apartment, not trusting those bastards to give her the proper time to recover. It was strange having another person in his space, hell, he wasn’t used to having his own space. The apartment was a place he felt he hardly spent time in, being shipped around at the government's whim. It was nice to have something in his name though, and even nicer to have someone share it with him. The rookie made his sterile apartment feel more like a home than it ever had before. Leon fell into the role of caretaker quickly, letting her rest in his bed as he brought her tea for her throat and helped bandage her wounds. She would lament, saying she wasn’t dead yet and could care for herself, rolling her eyes playfully whenever he poked his head in to check on her. He couldn’t help himself though, part of him was still in shock that she was alive, that she had come out of that mission with her heart still beating. Leon knew his feelings weren’t strictly platonic, not after the kiss they had shared at the bar, not after the soul-sucking fear he had felt after cradling her limp body amidst the aftermath of the chaos. Feelings were a luxury he hadn’t let himself indulge in in years. This isn't lust, he knows that much. Lust is like a quelling fire that burns in his gut, one that’s hot and heavy and must be put out lest he be driven mad. No, how he feels is not a burning passion, but a steady flame, like laying by a crackling hearth and letting the warmth wash over him. As he looks into her eyes, he feels as if he is home. Leon isn’t sure if he has ever experienced love, but he imagines that this is what it feels like.
One evening as they are sitting on the edge of his bed, only half paying attention to a movie he had rented, he turns to look at her, feeling his chest swell with that warm fuzzy emotion again. He doesn’t have to put up a facade of strength and bravery, a performance of a loyal government agent. With her, she sees him for what he is. A scared broken man. Leon can’t afford to be vulnerable very often, neither of them could, but perhaps for now they could both step out of their protective shells and be who they are.
“I love you,” he says suddenly, mesmerized by her. She turns to meet his gaze, eyes wide in surprise. She doesn’t say anything at first, the silence deafening as Leon starts to wonder if perhaps this was a mistake.
“I love you too,” she finally admits, her hand reaching for his as he meets her halfway, tenderly holding hands as if they were a pair of schoolchildren in the playground. Leon can feel his heart swell, his mind growing fuzzy as he tries to wrap his head around this feeling. Relationships are impractical in this line of work, and he can’t be certain of his future, much less one he could have with her. To calm the flood of emotions that are coursing through him he does the only thing he knows that can calm him. He lurches forward like a man possessed, crashing his lips to hers as his hand comes up to clasp his face, her palm gently grasping his cheek as if he was a piece of treasure that might slip through her fingers less she is too rough. It’s an odd feeling, to be cherished Leon thinks to himself as he kisses her. He doesn’t think of himself as worthy enough to be cherished, to be loved at all. In his mind, he is unworthy, just a broken man who isn’t sure of what exactly he is doing, not used to making his own choices in life. But as the kiss grows more heated, Leon can only think of one thing he wants to do. To worship the woman he loves.
Leon falls to his knees before her. He doesn’t believe in God, not anymore at least. But as he looks up at her angelic face, he imagines this is what God’s love must feel like; warm and comforting, ever-present as he feels the adoration inside of him, seeping into his bone marrow. She spreads open her thighs and Leon doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between them. His tongue is pressed flat against her core, licking a steady stripe up her slit. He can’t tell if it's her musky sweet scent that makes him feel as though he has been electrocuted or the way she parts her lips and moans, but the feeling shoots straight to his groin.
“Don’t hold back angel, I want to hear you sing” he murmurs into her folds, pressing kisses to her clit as she arches her back as he wraps his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He buries his face into her core, her legs twitching as they wrap around his head, pulling him in closer. She’s whimpering and moaning as Leon has his mouth around her clit, tongue swirling around it as he slowly sinks a finger into her. The tightness is warm and wet and Leon can’t help but groan at the feeling. He sinks his finger into the knuckle before pulling out, slowly easing another one into her. He pauses as she adjusts to the feeling, holding still to simply bask in the way she looks. Mouth open, frozen in wanton pleasure as she starts to squirm, a silent plea for him to continue. Leon happily obliged, building up a steady pace with fingers, the room echoing with a mixture of her moans and the squelching of her arousal. His fingers thrust into her at an angle, finding that special spongy spot as her breaths came out in pants. Leon couldn’t help but feel a smirk tug at his lips as he began to repeat his motions, watching in awe as her chest heaved and her stomach tightened. A few quick kitten licks to her clit had her throwing back her head, her fingers entangling themselves in his hair. As she comes undone, he continues to work her through her orgasm, fingers finally slipping out as he pulls his face back, his chin glossy with her arousal. He crawls up her body, running a hand along the curves of her face as he presses his lips to hers and he can’t help but melt into her. She is everything he is not, and he feels as though he has found a missing piece of his soul.
“I love you,” Leon murmurs, breaking away to gaze into her eyes. He can’t bring himself to care about the ramifications of his actions, the potential discourse of his admission of affection. At this moment, he is not an agent, he’s just a man in love.
“I love you too,” the rookie whispers back, reaching up and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Leon groans softly, feeling all too aware of his growing desire. The rookie reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulls him back to her.
“I’m ready if you are,” she says, her lips ghosting over his ear. Leon suppresses a shudder as meets her lips in a kiss, his free hand grasping the base of his cock as he runs in through her slick folds. With a groan he slowly sinks into her, the warmth enveloping him as he loses himself to her. He stills for a moment, the pair basking in the feeling of becoming one before Leon slowly starts to thrust, pulling out before gently thrusting back up into her. A whine leaves his mouth before he can stop it, the pleasure is all-consuming as he keeps up a gentle thrust. Her arms cling to him, a hand trailing down his back. Leon can’t tell where he ends and where she begins, all he can feel is the tightening of his stomach, his pace becoming more erratic as the coil inside him grows taut. He raises her thigh, pulling back slightly to worm a hand between the two of them, his calloused finger on her clit as he massages it, building up the pace until he can feel her clench around him, her whines and moans growing to a high pitch. Leon watches as her body begins to shake against him, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead as he waits for her to finish. It’s a beautiful sight to watch her come undone against him, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. With a final grunt, he pulls out, his hip bucking upward into his hand as cums on her stomach, his body shaking from the feeling.
He falls beside her, his hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, his chest heaving from exertion. His arms wrap around her, pulling her close to him as he closes his eyes and presses a kiss to her temple. There are no words to be said. The night will soon end and it will be a new day. Leon isn’t sure what the future holds for them as their lives are not theirs to control. If he could freeze time he would spend an eternity like this, pressed up against her, frozen in a kiss until the end of time. Leon couldn’t think of a more beautiful existence.
Note: I hope you've enjoyed this! Posting makes me nauseous lol. If there are any errors I apologize!
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