CASE FILE 001-A: “Denial Doesn’t Suit You, Kennedy.”
PAIRING: ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ × ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
CASE STATUS:
▪️Closed
CASE TYPE:
Leon insists there’s nothing going on between the two of you, but his actions telling entirely different story. As roommates, his attachment starts showing in ways he can’t seem to control no matter how much he tries to deny it. You notice every contradictory little habit and quietly decide to pretend you don’t after all it’s much more entertaining to watch him struggle with feelings he refuses to admit.
You know Leon isn't gay.
I mean, he's told you this approximately four hundred times, usually apropos of nothing, usually right after doing something a straight man definitely would not do.
Like tonight.
Like right now actually, with his head resting on your shoulder at Marcus' party, his hand loosely curled around your wrist like he's afraid you might leave him if he lets go.
"I'm not gay," he mumbles into your neck.
"Sure, Leon."
"I'm just... a little drunk."
"You've said that already."
"I mean it this time."
You pat his knee and let him keep leaning on you because honestly, this is nothing new.
Leon gets a few drinks in him at every party you two attend together, and somehow, without fail, ends up plastered against your side by the end of the night.
And he always has some airtight explanation ready, like: the room was spinning. He tripped and you happened to be there.
He was cold, even indoors, even standing three feet from a radiator. Never once does he say the actual reason, which is that he wants to be close to you and this is the only socially acceptable way he's found to make that happen.
You've lived with Leon for two years now. You know him well enough to see the pattern even when he can't, or won't.
You know the way his jaw sets when he's trying not to react to something. You know the specific pitch his voice takes when he's lying.
You've catalogued him without meaning to, the way you catalogue anything you spend enough time around, and what you've found is a guy so committed to a version of himself that doesn't add up anymore that he'd rather get drunk than admit anything has changed.
It started... small. Months ago.
A tightness in his jaw whenever your coworker Donna texted you. A too-quick "who's that?" whenever your phone buzzed with an unfamiliar name.
Then it got even less subtle.
There was the guy from your gym, Aiden, who you'd been talking to for a few weeks, nothing serious, just easy flirting that made you laugh between sets.
Leon had met him exactly once at your apartment, for maybe ten minutes, and had somehow managed to answer three of Aiden's questions before you could, correct him twice on facts about your life that Aiden hadn't even gotten wrong, and stan too close to you the entire time.
Aiden didn't come around again after that.
…
"Y- You know," Leon says now, voice thick and slurred, still not lifting his head from your shoulder, "you're… really warm."
'It's called body heat. Everyone has it." You sigh.
"No, I mean." He pauses like he's trying to locate a thought that's slipped somewhere behind his eyes. "You're warm in a good way... like a fireplace. But a person."
"Wow. That's the nicest thing you've ever compared me to."
"Don't.. tell anyone I said that."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
He hums, satisfied, and burrows in a little further.
You let your head rest against his for a second because it's easy, and because some small traitorous part of you likes this a lot more than you probably should.
Across the room, Marcus catches your eye and raises an eyebrow, the universal sign for what is happening here. And you just shrug at him, because honestly, you're not entirely sure yourself.
You've learned that it's easier to let it be whatever it wants to be and see where it lands.
Later, closer to midnight, you're leaning against the kitchen counter with a girl named Priya who you'd met maybe twenty minutes ago. You two were already having a genuinely good conversation.
She was funny in that dry, unbothered way you liked, and shed made you laugh twice already. Actual laughing, not the polite kind you do to be nice!
You caught Leon's eyes across the room at one point mid laugh and something in his face flickered before he schooled it back into something neutral and turned away to talk to Marcus with more enthusiasm than the conversation seemed to warrant.
You didn't think much of it at the time.
It wasn't until later, again, in the cab home, when Leon was staring very intently out the window and answering your questions in clipped one word replies, that you put it together.
"You okay?" you murmured.
"Fine."
"You've said three words to me since we left."
"I'm tired."
"You were... pretty energetic an hour ago."
He didn't answer that one. Just kept looking out the window like the passing streetlights held some deep personal significance.
You watched his reflection in the glass, the tight set of his mouth, and felt something warm and unhelpful bloom in your chest that you chose to ignore for the time being.
You didn't push it. But you noticed. You always notice with Leon. It's part of the fun, honestly, watching him work so hard to convince himself of something you're fairly certain isn't true anymore.
The Priya thing came to a head about a week later when she texted asking if you wanted to grab coffee sometime. Just the two of you.
You'd said yes because why not? She was nice and you had no particular reason to say no.
You mentioned it to Leon in passing while making dinner and watched him go very still over the cutting board.
"Coffee," he repeated.
"Yeah. Just coffee."
"Like a date."
"I mean, kind of? I don't know, we'll see." You shrugged.
He chopped the onion with unnecessary force for a few seconds, and you had to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.
The knife hit the board harder than the onion strictly required like he was working something out through his hands since his mouth, clearly, wasn't cooperating.
"Cool," he said eventually. "That's... cool. Good for you."
"Thanks, Leon."
"...Yep."
He didn't say anything else about it that night, but he was quieter than usual through dinner and twice you caught him watching you across the room with an expression between frustration and longing.
The coffee date was set for Thursday and Leon found reasons to bring it up twice more before then, always disguised as something else.
Did you know that place gets really crowded on weekday mornings?
Did you know Priya's roommate was talking to some guy from his old job? Small world, weird coincidence. Did that seem weird to you?
You answered him honestly each time, and each time he seemed to deflate a little further, like he'd been hoping you'd say something that would give him an excuse to feel the way he was already feeling.
The date never actually happened, in the end.
Not because you canceled, but because a day before it was scheduled, you and Leon ended up at another party. And by 11pm he was five drinks deep and glued to your side.
This time with his arm slung heavy around your shoulders. He'd been drinking faster than usual all night, and you'd noticed but hadn't said anything.
"You're not actually going on that coffee thing, right," he said, not quite a question, more like a statement he was hoping you'd confirm.
"Why wouldn't I?"
He blinked at you slowly, clearly working through some internal calculation that wasn't landing the way he wanted.
His eyes were a little unfocused, but there was something underneath the haze that looked almost desperate.
"Because," he said finally, like it explained everything.
"Because why, Leon?"
"Because you're my boyfriend."
The words hung there for a second, ridiculous and unprompted, and you felt your eyebrows climb toward your hairline.
"I'm your what."
He seemed to realize what he'd said about half a second after saying it, and you watched panic flash across his face.
"I mean, everyone thinks that. At parties. People always ask if you're single and I just say so because it's easier."
"Easier than what? Saying I'm... I don't know, your roommate?"
"It's a whole explanation." Leon sighed. "Boyfriend is so much shorter."
"You've never once said that before tonight."
"I say it all the time. You just don't hear it."
You really should have called this out for the nonsense it was. Instead, something curious took over and you decided, right then, that you were going to have some fun with this.
"…Oh," you said instead, keeping your voice soft and a little dazed, like the idea was only now dawning on you. "Right. Okay. Yeah, that makes sense."
Leon looked at you like he hadn't expected that response. Yet something in his shoulders relaxed in a way that told you everything you needed to know.
He pulled you a little closer, chin dropping to rest against the top of your head. "Yeah," he repeated, mostly to himself. "That makes sense."
You cancelled the coffee thing with Priya the next morning.
"You okay there," you asked, all faux concern.
"Fine. Great. Perfect."
"You sure? You look a little flushed, babe."
"Stop that."
"Stop what, babe?"
He put his face in his hands and groaned, and you laughed until your ribs hurt, and neither of you brought up why exactly the word had gotten to him like that.
The genius of it was that Leon never once questioned why you were playing along. He was too busy sinking deeper to notice you were doing it fully aware, fully enjoying every second of it.
You started to wonder how long it would take him to catch up to what you already knew, and whether he'd ever say it plainly or just keep circling it forever, building an entire relationship out of technicalities and drunken excuses and never once calling it what it actually was.
He started reaching for your hand at parties without thinking about it first, fingers finding yours in the dark of a crowded room.
He stopped needing the excuse of being drunk to sit close to you on the couch to lean his weight against your side.
Once, when a guy at the grocery store asked for your number while you were both standing in the cereal aisle, Leon appeared with two boxes of something neither of you had picked out or needed.
With full jealousy, he had said “He’s with me,” before steering you toward the checkout with a hand at the small of your back like the matter was settled.
"You didn't have to do that," you finally said in the car, not quite hiding your dreamy smile.
"Do what?”
"The entire thing. Your hand on my back as well.”
"I really don't know what you're talking about."
"Leon.”
You let him get away with that one.
It was a Tuesday, nothing special, just the two of you on the couch with a movie when he finally said it out loud.
His arm was around you, had been for an hour, comfortable in a way that had stopped needing any excuse weeks ago.
He was quiet for a long moment before he spoke, and you could feel him working up to something, the particular stillness of a person choosing their words.
"I think I actually mean it," he finally said. "The boyfriend thing."
You turned to look at him.
He wasn't drunk this time. There was no party, no excuse, no easy explanation waiting in the wings to catch him if this went badly.
"Leon."
"I know. I know what I said before. About not being gay." He rubbed a hand over his face, looking somewhere between miserable and relieved to finally be saying it out loud after so many months. "But I think I've been lying to myself for a while now."
"You think?"
He huffed out something between a laugh and a groan. "You knew."
"I had a pretty good guess."
"How long?”
"Does it matter?”
He sighed. "You knew and you let me keep doing the whole bit anyway."
"It was fun to watch."
"You're unbelievable."
"And you love it. Clearly.”
"Yeah, I do. …But, uh, what happens now?”
"Now, you stop needing an excuse."
“For what?”
"For this," you said, and closed the distance between you before he could ask another question, slow and a little unsure like you were giving him every chance to pull back, and he didn't.
You kissed him like everything had finally come into place. Oke of his hands instinctively came up to rest against your jaw.
When you finally pulled back, he was staring at you with an expression you'd never quite seen on him before, something completely stunned.
"I'm.. still not gay," he said, but there was no conviction left in it at all, just the ghost of his old line, spoken more out of habit than belief.
"Sure, Leon."
"I mean it."
"You've said that before too."
"Yeah, well." He pulled you back in, tucking you against his side. "Maybe I was wrong."
"Took you long enough."
"You let me keep going for months."
"You were really committed. It felt rude to interrupt." You grinned.
He laughed at that and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, all the tension of pretending finally drained out of him.
It turned out the boyfriend thing wasn't a lie after all. It just took him a while to catch up to the truth, months of parties and too many drinks and increasingly transparent excuses, before he finally stopped running the numbers and let the answer be what it had always been.
Ur SUCH a peak writer i genuinely cant wait for yr next posts. Ur so talented and using these legendary powers to feed freaks on the internet pornography of their fave characters <3
(Also, this is the anon that req'd the bruce wayne x interviewer reader forcemasc fic, is -🐛anon free to claim?)
hellooo darling, thank you sm for the compliment!! i believe 🐛 anon is taken (though i haven’t heard from them in a while..) so if you’d like, pick another emoji. also, i’m close to working on your req!! i’m so sorry to you and other people waiting for theirs to be finished 😭
you could just ignore this but I lowk love the new theme also genuinely can't wait for the new fics I'm actually on the edge of my seat but take your time on them!! 🥹🥹
thank you my lovee!! i’m lowk getting back on my grind so it honestly shouldn’t take as long as it recently has been☺️
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: Bruce with latex gloves, making sure m!reader is working properly before he uses his mouth to his liking.
↳ "Show me who you are… P*rnst-a-a-a-ar.”
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: Older Bruce who stumbles upon his employee, m!reader’s, camboy channel and becomes his biggest fan without realizing who it is.
↳ "Express Yourself, Don’t Repress Yourself."
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: Bruce Wayne who’s interviewed by transmasc!reader, and being insanely observant, notices right away that reader is trans and teaches him to be a "real man.” Thus leading to force masc sex.
ᴇꜱᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴠᴇʀᴅɪᴄᴛ: ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ
ᴄᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏ. 002 ── ᴅɪᴄᴋ ɢʀᴀʏꜱᴏɴ
ᴄᴀꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ:
◼ ᴀᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡ
ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ: 01
↳ "Welcome to Vegas."
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: Dick, who let jealousy get the best of him, rides m!reader until all he can think about is dick. Both dicks.
ᴇꜱᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴠᴇʀᴅɪᴄᴛ: ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ
ᴄᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏ. 003 ── ᴊᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ
ᴄᴀꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ:
◼ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ɪɴᴠᴇꜱᴛɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ: 01
↳ "Seven Minutes in Heaven"
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: Transmasc!Jason and transmasc!reader having freaky sex in a closet during a party game. They can only hope in the end that they’re not virgins.. (yes, the MSI song)
ᴇꜱᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴠᴇʀᴅɪᴄᴛ: ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ
ᴄᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏ. 004 ── ᴛɪᴍ ᴅʀᴀᴋᴇ
ᴄᴀꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ:
◼ ᴀᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴇꜱᴛɪᴍᴏɴʏ
ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ: 02
↳ "’Cause Whatever You Give Life, You’re Gonna Get Back"
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: Part 2
↳ "Pretty When You Cry"
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: Tim with dacryphilia purposely making you cry whenever and however he can.
i currently have 1.7k followers so i’ve been thinking.. what do i do for my 2k special?? i mean.. hypothetically speaking, if i reach that many followers (which thank you all btw!) by october, do i take my own kinktober virginity by participating for the first time?
plus with further thinking i reminded myself of that secret villian/serial killer tim drake x new vigilante m!reader that i never got to… haha🌚 (i lowk forgot the original idea.. i’ll have to do some digging in older posts)
if i get feedback i’ll totally consider it + spin said tim drake x m!reader fic into smth halloween-y.
turnnoffyourmind
tangentwithtanner
areudirty
pixelskylines
romaincrisis
dailybridgerton
amandla
