Angry at the waiting game
older!Leon S. Kennedy x co-worker!reader
summary: After yet another successful mission, one that left you with your heart on your sleeve, you and your partner have to settle the nature of your relationship and decide what the hell the shift between you means. Unfortunately, for the first time ever working together seems to be an issue for you.
It’s not a surprise that Leon panicked when he realized the effect you had on him. He was trained, familiar with ins and outs of the job, and he allowed no mistakes. How sick was it that it was now you who had to cover his back and remind him about taking careful steps?
tags: +18, fem!reader, age gap (Leon is 49, reader is in her 30s), SMUT, NSFW, piv, work romance, fake marriage, undercover missions, mature themes, jealous leon, canon-typical content, heavy making out, horny fools, arguments, angst, some fluff
word count: 11k+
The smut part is co-written with @talis4yma I don’t know about this whole 'she's like a shot of espresso' thing, but they are definitely my ginger beer with vodka.
the authors' first language is not English.
[Part 1]
“Copy, nicely dispatched. Good job, agents. Do you want me to send an evac with the services? We have a free plane just for you.”
Your boss sounded like he was offering you a two-week-long all-inclusive vacation, which didn’t convince you much. You looked at Leon, and he slowly shook his head ‘no’. It wasn’t unusual for him to share your thoughts.
“No, sir, we're fine,” you said to the phone.
“Are you sure, agent? Maybe ask your partner first,” he pried, making you roll your eyes.
Then some awkwardness rushed over you. For the whole conversation, the long explaining of how the mission went, you pretended that Leon wasn’t here… and he just settled for that. He lowered himself into a nearby chair, listening to you and your boss talking. He never interrupted you during wrap-ups, but he also always spoke up. Now he seemed grateful that you didn’t indulge him… Why the hell did he do that? And why the hell did you keep pretending, like you had something to hide? Something to be ashamed of…
You acted like your boss on the other side of the phone could actually see your flushed face from moments before, and how Leon towered over you, basically imprisoning you on the chair with his arms.
“You know Leon,” you spoke up. “He wouldn't abandon his car in the middle of nowhere like that.”
Your boss laughed like it was the funniest thing he heard this week. Poor man, his brain must have been fried from all the papers and documents… On the other hand, Leon surprised you by stabbing you with his finger under your ribs.
He frowned and maintained a serious look on his face, but, oh, that man was playful now, and you were not blind enough to ignore it.
“Agent. Y/n, are you there?”
You snapped your head away from Leon and you could see that bastard fighting his own grin.
“Yes, sir.”
“I said we informed our people close to your position. They’re on their way. There is no need for you to stay there if you think you’re finished.”
“Roger that, so freedom it is,” you joked.
“As long as I have report files on my desk on Monday,” he added more grimly, and Leon huffed. “Again, nice work. Over and out.”
You stuffed your work phone back into the pocket of your jacket and could feel your shoulders fall a bit.
Just like that, with the annoying voice of the old man, the conversation from before was cut short. Leon’s face morphed back into carefulness, even though his hand still lingered close.
“Crazy…” he hummed without further explanation.
“What is?”
“When I first met you I expected to be annoyed by you. Here we are, a few years later, and you are lying to the big man, so I don't have to bother with him. I must be a bad influence.”
“Yeah, the worst.”
He smiled in an awful forced way that made his whole face grimace like it caused him physical pain.
“He’s got good timing, huh?”
It was all he said about your previous conversation. He looked like he wanted, needed to add something, but he didn’t.
Dread creeped up your spine when you realized you were sitting there still, like a beaten up dog who refused to make the first move.
“Alright,” Leon cut the silence, standing up with a groan, “on your feet now, agent. Let’s get out of this shithole.”
“Oh, with pleasure, Mr. Kennedy…”
“Don’t do that–” he grunted under his breath. “That makes me feel old, and you’re doing it on purpose.”
“Sure,” you said lightly, picking up your things scattered around the room.
“Mean.”
He nonchalantly threw his bag on his shoulder and waited, holding the door open for you.
“No, why? Maybe I like that you’re older.”
You said it on instinct, just like that. To joke, to cheer him up a bit – or cheer up yourself. Despite the good intention he gave you an unreadably weird look, that made you think if you didn’t push it too far.
Funny. Wasn’t that what he basically moaned straight into your ear last night? That he was pushing his luck with you?
Well, apparently he forgot that pretty quickly. You would give a lot to know it was his age that made him so absentminded, and the thought made you scoff to yourself.
“I’ll be right there,” you promised, and a few minutes later you were staring out the window, watching him carry your stuff to his car.
Your way back was much more tense than last time, but even now Leon managed to make you laugh with his crappy jokes and complaining about other drivers’ skills. It was hard not to snort at his murmuring, especially since you almost cried at the sight of the first car on the way, after being alone for so long. Leon teased that you’re acting like a kid who saw a plane for the first time, but he was clearly strained as well.
The mission was complete, and you had no reason to hurry back to the office.
That’s why you decided to stop at a diner that you passed on the way. That, and to finally have a proper cup of coffee. The place was not one of the fanciest, not even very clean, but after the house that you spent the last few days in, it was heaven.
“I’m going to go change,” you said immediately, after stepping inside and making your way to the bathroom with your bag of spare clothes.
If the dress that you wore wasn’t a piece borrowed from one of your office co-workers, it would probably fall victim to your built up rage. Working out was usually enough to tire yourself into letting go of the feelings – even after a successful mission – but you were aware of the next hours spent in the car. Allowing some violence on the soulless attribute of the woman you pretended to be would soothe you, but eventually you stuffed the thing at the bottom of your bag.
A waitress was nice enough to send you a smile at the sight of your changed attire, almost like she cared. Sundress replaced by a pair of jeans, unironed t-shirt and a simple blazer.
“There she is,” Leon almost whistled, aware of your brightened mood.
If you were alone, you would give him a spin, but he still smiled, realizing everything was in place again. He wanted to believe that. You were suddenly happier, calmer… even more beautiful than before, making him think that if something was fucked up between the two of you, it was his fault.
You were his assigned partner, a woman who could finally shake off the awful persona that clung to her for days, and his breath stopped for a moment at the sight of your jeans. Not even in simply-minded attraction, he battled thoughts like that the best he could. It was the idea of you coming back to the person he knew and didn’t have to play around.
“God, I feel like I’m myself again,” you sighed, sinking to the seat opposite to him.
“You look like you’re yourself again,” he agreed, making the corner of your mouth rise. “Good that it’s over, right?”
“They don’t pay us enough.”
He shrugged, looking at his Porsche through the window and failing to see your joke – that’s at least what you thought.
“Well, I don’t complain,” he said, then looked you up and down in a pretended judgment. “Maybe they’ll promote you too, soon.”
“Leon, what the… Asshole.” The rolled up tissue that you threw his way perfectly hit his chest, as you sat back with a scoff.
“I can put up a good word for you, if you want,” he continued, until a waiter approached you.
He didn’t think about speaking for you, but he did. It was a promise that he made to himself when you first started working together, and was regularly breaking out of work. He knew how hard getting to a position like yours was for a normal agent. Not everyone was as unlucky as him to get an almost honorable place for the tragedies that he has lived through. That’s why respect for his co-workers was absolutely in order, and he never intended to drop it. Even when he was still technically your supervisor, he allowed you to lead missions, be in charge, speak to authorities yourself…
Nonetheless, letting you say your order yourself was too much for him, apparently. Of course, he did know your order. He literally remembered your favorite food from particular restaurants, knew how you take your coffee in the morning and the version reserved for the long nights of work.
“Black coffee for her-”
“Black coffee,” you said at the same time, immediately looking at him.
The young girl that stood next to the table giggled warmly.
“You people are cute.” She almost blushed, and you could tell she didn’t mean to let that slip. To make it better, she spoke up again after taking your full orders. “Have you been married for long?”
There was a pause in which you exchanged confused looks.
“Married?” The moment you spoke up, you understood where she got the idea from. Well, it was difficult to blame her.
Her cheeks burned even more.
“The rings– sorry, I assumed…”
“It's alright.” Leon brushed it off, not meaning to explain anything to a random person, but you were unfortunate to speak at the same time again.
“Well, not long. It's still easy to forget.”
The girl nodded, probably as nervous as you were at this point.
When she walked away you brushed your hand over your face like you wanted to shield yourself from Leon’s gaze for a moment. You finally leaned closer to place your elbows on the table and lowered your voice.
“Why did I lie?”
“I have no idea, but I think the fact that you’re tired and overworked might have something to do with it,” he said in the voice of a man who was making you realize the sense of living. “I don't mind, though.”
But you did. You took the ring off your finger and after a final look at it, you slid it to Leon. He caught the band before it could fall from the table and threw it into his pocket alongside the one he wore before.
He smiled like he wanted to tease you, but there was something more in it. Something close to sadness. Or simply some sort of absence – yeah, he was absent a lot nowadays.
“You don't like the idea, do you?”
It made you freeze with your mouth slightly open. Leon must have sensed the tension as well because he shifted, and his face betrayed that he wanted to slam his head on the wall. He eased up after noticing that your shoulders were shaking from laughter, doesn’t matter if it was caused by the nerves or not.
“Did you just ask me what I think about being married to you?” You tried to make it sound as much like a joke as you could. Thankfully, he caught onto the helping hand that you offered him.
Shame that you were unable to keep it that way for long. It was like some terrible strength, some damned need that enveloped you since you stepped into the Harmon’s house, was pulling you into saying the wrong thing. Wrong in their truth.
“Auch, sounds bad when you put it that way.”
“Yeah… The idea is fine. What I don't like is dwelling on things that aren't real. I’m not one for fake versions, Leon. Why would I be?”
If he leant even closer – funny, he didn’t notice moving – your forehead would touch. You must have looked comically, like a pair of government agents in conspiracy. He couldn’t make himself shift away.
“Why would I if you're here?”
You suffered under the sight of his piercing eyes but didn’t look away, not even for a minute. He didn’t let much on his face, perhaps except for some doubt. He hesitated about the answer and was left alone with his lips squeezed into a tight line.
If he doubted that you really said that, he was wrong. Exaggerated or not, you meant it in every way. Even if your thoughts were not in check, if you yourself wondered what the hell was going on between you, you simply appreciated that he was by your side. As a colleague and as a friend.
You never saw a hero. You saw a survivor of many years of a harsh life that still tried and succeeded to be a good person. Someone you didn’t think you could be if you went through the same.
And Leon… Well, Leon started wondering if his mind was ever right. Certainly not now, when you smiled at him so mesmerizingly. Fuck, did you even realize that you were doing to him?
He thought he was beyond his past habits, but, god, he needed a drink.
Leon’s behaviour didn’t change dramatically. You noticed small differences that you could put together only after a while. Silence wasn’t really something new. He always had his moments of quietness and you always respected it.
Now he was moving away in barely noticeable steps.
He didn’t offer to help you with the report, simply because he knew you didn’t need it. That was how he explained it to himself. But didn’t he always ask, despite knowing the same? He didn’t ask you to work on it together while sitting at the back of some old coffee shop. Didn’t announce that he was stopping by your place with some take out and the paperwork only as an excuse.
He didn’t even ask if you were fine doing it on your own, because he decided it would mean insulting you.
It was fine. As long as you were at work, and not in the quietness of your flat, you were able to force your thoughts away from that.
What was worse, was that his ignorance turned into avoidance. You could deal with moody Leon, grumpy Leon… Hell, even drunk Leon once or twice, but when he turned on his heel when he noticed you in the room? That was just cruelty.
Once he almost spilled his coffee on you while trying to leave the break room before you. Surprisingly, he scoffed in that boyish way of his, and acted absolutely normal, just like he always did.
“Jesus… See the effect you have on people?” He jested, trying to suggest it was your fault he acted like an idiot. Nonetheless, he moved carefully to maneuver around you and step closer to the door.
“Mhm, not funny,” you said to yourself, long after he was gone.
Actually, it seemed that coffee was one of your very few ways of mutual understanding now. No matter how stupidly he acted, or how he tried to minimize your conversations, there was always a steaming cup placed on your desk when you came to work.
You had enough of pretending nothing had changed when he didn’t show up at the shooting range. You checked the day of the week twice. Thursday. Like always.
The question that created the custom was asked in the first month of your work in the DSO. You remembered wondering if it was a good idea to try to bond with your partner, but deciding he seemed nice enough. Ever since you spitted out the nervous words of invitation he never skipped Thursday's training even once.
You remembered that last year he surprised you when he was on his few days of sick leave. Something about a migraine, a simple cold… nothing serious anyway. You were incredibly boring, sitting at the desk, feeling lonely despite the people that surrounded you. Looking forward to the training, you prepared a perfect playlist, thought about things you wanted to practice, and took the elevator down to be met with your partner. The same one who was supposed to be in bed, smirking at you and saying he couldn’t abandon you just like that.
Today, he did. What’s worse, you saw him before that day. You heard him muttering to someone that he had nothing to do, and that this job is shit, if he is forced to sit still like a damn official or a clerk.
Forgetting was not an option, and you weren’t simply accepting the fact that he stood you up without a warning.
For a moment you stood in the middle of the room, aware that you were probably looking like a fool, but a longer thought was very much needed. Getting angry just like that would be childish, sure, but both you and Leon knew it was not at all about the training.
What was he thinking, avoiding you like that? A grown man, let alone a man so much older than you? He could fucking try. You were having it your way, and doing it with calmness.
You had to cheer up on yourself a bit to confidently take an elevator up to the office while wearing your sweatpants, but you managed. It was not like you were indecent in any way. You probably cared about your clothes much more than other people, but it was a way of showing and gaining respect for you. You worked your way to be here, so did others, then why not treat it seriously and dress seriously?
Well, a few people smiled at the sight of your sneakers that firmly tapped on the floor.
You walked to Leon’s desk from the behind, to avoid making too much of a scene. It was nobody’s business, after all, just a conversation between partners.
He could feel something shifting behind him and his breath sped up when his eyes stopped at your presence.
“Practice?” You asked, pretty frugally. Probably too quickly as well.
“I… Sorry?” He spun in his chair to meet you, and kept looking up like a kicked dog, which made everything harder.
You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your sweats and shrugged.
“Do you want to go to practice with me?” You asked again, feeling like a fool. Or a child… Foolish child, it was. Thankfully, Leon looked the same. “Now?”
He opened his mouth to explain, then decided it was over anyway, and tried to put on an act of looking at the calendar, then comically realizing it was Thursday. God, he was such a bad liar.
“Yeah, sorry,” he let out a breathless laugh and stood up, “sure I want to.”
But someone stood by your side already. A friendly hand on your back made you turn, and Leon… Well, Leon tried not to grunt his teeth too loudly.
Nate, the analyst that you usually cooperated with, greeted you with a smile, not at all bothered by the lingering presence of the older man.
“Hey, Y/n. I think I will be heading to the range soon, so in case Mr. Kennedy is not feeling like it today…” he said like he had some idea about the situation and stopped when said Mr. Kennedy looked his way.
It was probably easy to assume you were simply too clingy to your partner, and he had enough of it… You felt ashamed, but it was nothing compared to the rage that occurred in Leon’s mind.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d be happy to go with you, if you need a partner” Nate offered, no doubt with good intention. “If your current one is… you know, too busy.”
You didn’t know the man that well. Leon, on the other hand, had his sight fixed on the man’s arm that still clung to you.
“Watch it,” he spat with absolutely unnecessary irritation. “Go bother someone else.”
“Respectfuly, sir, I only mean that she deserves better than anybody’s pity.”
Leon looked like he wanted to turn Nate into a person who would desperately need mercy or pity himself, but he was better than that.
He showed you to lead the way, and you were too stunned to protest.
You believed Leon’s forced behavior that the words meant nothing to him, but then the elevator’s door closed.
“Nothing about it comes from pity. You know that, right?”
The tension was visibly gone from his shoulders, and just like that he was able to look you in the eye again. In the way he did before, when nothing about the two of you was weird.
“I do.”
He nodded.
“Good. That’s… that’s good.”
He must have understood the message behind your calm protest. He tried to keep it civil, speak to you normally, wait for you at the entrance when he knew you were almost done. Yet, the usual offers to give you a ride home were rare, compared to how it was before.
You know what they say about mutual enemies, though? They can unite people, and they definitely did. You complained about people you didn’t like, especially the secretary of your boss, and moments like that made you feel like nothing’s changed. Leon mouthed and mimicked your co-workers behind their back like he used to, indulging his nasty temper.
“God, I never realized you are so rude!” You claimed a long time ago, after being witness to him scolding one of his subordinates.
He rolled his eyes at the joke.
“‘Just’ is the word I would use.”
“You’re never that cruel to me,” you noticed. “And I have fucked up thing before.”
“Not that much. I am just,” he insisted, the stubborn man he was.
“I think you have favorites, and that’s it. That’s not justice,” you mocked, almost stepping on your fingertips to meet his eyes, when he looked away in annoy. “I never heard you complaining about Stacy, and she makes a lot of mistakes… Remember the files printed the other way around?”
“Stacy is a sweet elderly lady who can barely see in those glasses and I pray every day that she makes her way to work safely,” he said like it explained everything. “A woman like that is a road danger…”
“See? I told you, you’re being cruel, and you have favorites at the same time”
“How am I cruel? By saying that the lady who was one hundred years old when I first joined the force years ago is half-blind? That, thank you very much, is honesty.”
“Cruel, easily influenced and honest. Noted.” You snapped your fingers, deciding the conversation was done, and that you have won.
You were having a free day. You applied for it weeks ago, without any particular reason, but because of your skills on convincing, the chief eventually agreed.
Leon knew he wouldn't see you today since you were talking about it a whole week prior. It made him more grumpy than usual. A bit was his opinion.
Most people in the office would say he was absolutely unbearable. He wasn’t really taken for a grumpy man, most of the time, despite his opinion, but today everyone who wasn’t forced to approach him was considered a lucky person.
On a daily basis he joked with the elderly ladies, teased some rookies and helped anyone who needed it. It was his way to cope with things. He needed that to make sure he wasn’t here just because he found himself in a wrong place thirty years ago.
When he was younger, he sometimes snapped at people. Lectured them too harshly, was too bratty in his instructions when he was led to the edge of his patience. Now he was much quieter, and it was even worse.
The exhaust was suddenly very visible on his face. Despite years of training and steady grip whenever he held a gun, his hands were shaking a bit now. He sat there, the machine created for war that he was, at his damn desk job. Sometimes he hated that he had to do it, but hoping for another mission would be stupid. Unfortunately, it usually worked the same: accidents happened in pairs, meaning if there was one, you would be busy for the rest of the month, but if there was none… Well, that meant paperwork for a week.
He rolled his eyes when his phone buzzed. His expression changed immediately when he saw your name on the screen.
‘Busy at the office?’ He read the message twice, like he wanted to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
You did check up on him sometimes, but that was just weird.
‘Not really. Why?’
It took you some time to answer this time.
‘Meet me at the parking lot in 10 minutes?’
‘Aren't you supposed to be having a free day?’ He asked, before declaring his presence anywhere.
‘Yeah, and I need to see you on my free day. Will you be there?’
Of course, you insisted.
And of course he would be there. Didn’t you know him?
He stood up at once, even though he had time to spare. None of you said a word about you already waiting for him, or him showing up in three, not ten minutes.
At first, you thought you imagined it, but Leon smelled like he had a drink that day before. When he moved to rest his arm on the roof of your car, towering over you, you were sure. He wasn’t drunk by any means, not tipsy, but he needed a sip or two from the flask he stupidly threw into his bag this morning.
Days like that happened to him and to most people in the office. It was a shitty job, to be honest. All around you was death, blood and proof of the lack of humanity in the world, and there was no end to it. It was waiting until yet another innocent person fell victim to Umbrella or other psychos. Living like that meant existing in inevitable suspension of expecting your own death one day… It could wear people down.
You knew about Leon’s struggles from the past. Hell, you were probably a bad friend, but you even indulged him in it a bit. He was a man of strong will, but it was you who told him about your desk neighbor’s customs and the bottle hidden in his drawer. You shared stolen sips over the long nights that you spent at the office.
“Hey. You look like you could use a break from here,” you greeted him.
He imagined that you would be doing something nice on your free day, probably had some plans, maybe seeing some friends… And now you stood in front of him, in clothing only a bit more casual than usual, with a weak smile and shoulders more tense than on every day.
“Tell me about it, love.” He let it slip – again – and was too tired to correct himself.
Thankfully you said nothing of it.
“You’re here to rescue me, huh?”
“I wish…” You scratched the nape of your neck, super conscious about the reason behind your presence.
“Then why? Aren’t you supposed to be doing something fun today? Go out, have a drink…” he suggested, like you needed it, and betraying his sad customs in the meanwhile.
“I have ideas how to spend my free time, Leon, thanks,” you cut in, raising your hand to stop him. “I need your help,” you admit, “confidentially.”
He quickly understood the tension in you and the worry behind your eyes. Jesus, he would be concerned too if he was getting information from his old friends about his ex being a kidnapper. You were handling it with admirable calmness anyway. You did mention that the hints were unsure and every clue that you followed unclear, but you weren’t leaving it like that.
“You know you are not responsible for the man, yes? No matter what you shared.”
“Obviously, I know. It’s not about responsibility.”
“And yet–”
“And yet I want to save some people in case those whispers are true. Be honest, Leon, would you drop it if it was you?”
He didn’t need to think about it, neither about lying for the sake of your safety. Either if he liked it or not, you knew him too well.
“Never.”
You showed him messages, photos. Everything spoke against you college sweetheart. He was doing something terrible to the girls he asked out, and – what was even worse – no one dared to touch the subject. You had a particularly difficult conversation with the mother of one of the women who cried about the police being indifferent.
“He is the police. That’s why,” you explained to Leon. “Motherfuckers cover for their buddy.”
“Wait, you dated a cop in college?”
You stopped and frowned.
“That’s what you gathered from all I said?”
“Ah, sorry. My mind’s a bit off today…” he apologized with genuine guilt on his face. Or at least shame. “Keep going.”
There was not much to add. You wanted him to come with you to check the final source: the man himself. You wanted to lurk around before making a fuss out of a whole situation, but in case you weren’t wrong, you planned to be loud. You weren’t a government agent for nothing, after all. A normie messed up cop couldn’t do shit to you, especially if you had agent Kennedy to back you up. And let’s be clear, you didn’t mean to beat the life out of the man. You wanted to drag him to court if necessary and set him up in jail for long years.
“I don't have anyone to talk about this to,” you admit, leaning over your car with a cigarette between your fingers. “Nor I trust anyone like I trust you.”
He sighed, looking to the side.
“Come one, Y/n. I'm here for it.” His grimace was supposed to resemble a smile, but he looked like a man who just realized something heartbreaking. “You know I’ll do anything you ask of me.”
Partners. In and out of work.
“I feel like I need to do something, but I don’t want to get in trouble in case it’s different from how it looks.”
“I think it’s not, if you want to know my opinion. Anyway, if you go down, I go with you. Is that any consolation?”
“That I can fuck up not only my life but yours too? Sure, an offer I can’t reject,” you said sarcastically.
He really meant that he would do anything you wanted, because the next day he showed up on time, dressed in a white button up. And you only ever suggested – not demanded – that it would be nice if you could blend in.
The bar that you went to was unbearably loud, and you could feel your head spinning from the lights.
“I can’t believe people really come here for fun,” Leon grunted into your ear, leaning closer so you could hear him. “I might be old, but I feel like someone is drilling in my brain.”
“Awful, right? With their own free will…” You had to force yourself to have a normal conversation.
The nerves were eating you alive. The idea of someone you knew, someone you had feelings for, being a monster was more shattering than you expected. He was a stranger man now, after all. It’s been over a decade, and you were nervous at least like you were half-accountable for the crimes.
You made your way to the VIP sector which turned out to be extremely easy thanks to Leon’s silver tongue in a talk with a guard. The man laid an analyzing eye on you, like he was wondering if you belonged here at all, or were useful.
You were unlucky enough to be noticed by the man you looked for before you could do that. Your advantage was that he didn’t recognize you.
Funny. Leon did tease you a bit when he first saw your teenage photo at your flat, but you expected your literal ex-boyfriend to know he was talking to you. It was much better that way though. Fuck knows what drugs he was on, and how well his senses worked.
He changed as well. You remembered him as a rather good-looking charming boy. Now he resembled a rat. Sure, it could be your prejudice, but even a grin of straight, white teeth couldn’t help his face that was once a pretty one. It was hard not to grimace. Well, or smile, if you would be a woman satisfied by the downfalls of your exes…
“Look at you, lass. Nice piece of meat–”
His words died on his tongue.
Leon couldn’t just settle on standing behind you like a guarding dog. No, he was immediately stepping in front of you, one arm hiding you behind his bigger body and the other pushing the man.
He always lingered. He had a forced protectiveness in him and always felt responsible, no matter who he was with. What he never did, was intervening when not necessary – exactly like he did now.
Usually he stood arm to arm with you, only gripping your fist in his hand, so you don’t collide it with some fool’s face.
“Chill, old man. I was just foolin’ around…”
“Fuck off, buddy,” he spat sharply, and a part of you couldn’t be more grateful. Just a part, unluckily. The other one was aware that you would have to face the man again.
He had the audacity to send you a wink over Leon’s face and cluck with his tongue. The arm Leon held in front of you was now not to keep you in place, but for you to cling to so he doesn’t take a step further.
“Focus, Leon,” you said quietly, looking after the man who walked away.
He turned and moved his hand down, to intertwine your fingers. Shamelessly, just like that. He held onto your hand while pushing your way through the crowd.
“I have to go play with him a bit…” you muttered with spite.
“Wait. That’s him?”
You could almost hear the disgust in his voice.
“I don’t want to hear a single word of judgment over my choices–”
“That’s not what I meant. If I knew I would just beat the truth out of him…”
“And get arrested if it’s not the truth we aim for, sure. Just stay close to me in case he tries something, alright?”
“Always.” Before you stepped away he pulled on your hand lightly, so he could keep you against his chest. “Nothing will happen to you, yeah? I’m right behind you.”
“I know.”
But did you, really?
The boozing of your phone was like saving and a curse at the same time. You stilled in one place, showing Leon the screen.
He sighed, probably as troubled as you were. It was a choice between duty and righteousness… and you didn’t carry the name of a steadfast agent without a reason. If it was Leon’s call he would stay, stroll after the man, but his mere identity made him want to drag you out of here. A little selfishness he allowed.
“Come one, let’s not leave the big man hanging…” he urged you, stepping outside so you could pick up in peace and hear your boss out.
The man looked over your attires when you stepped in the office. Fair, a shirt and a fancy dress weren’t your usual looks, but you didn’t deserve judgment like that.
“Well look at you…” he teased, not really caring about your presence. He was much too occupied by the files. “What, did I interrupt a date?”
He didn’t wait for you to answer, only rushed you both to have a seat.
“Company tied to Umbrella.” That was a shallow explanation, but fine. “We need proof for their crimes.”
Leon snorted under his breath, but he did dare to complain that he already tried that once today.
But then your ex’s name was mentioned, and he didn’t feel like laughing anymore.
“What does he have to do with this?” You asked, nervously shifting in your place.
“He’s the boss. I called you so suddenly because we were informed he’s out today. Happens rarely nowadays. He’s a busy man, apparently.”
“I thought… that he’s just a cop,” you muttered.
“He is. I’m the chief of the Division. You think that must mean I’m not also a director of some… organs-selling clinic?”
Yeah, he was a man with a sharp remark to everything you could possibly say.
“You might even like it, since you are so good at undercover,” he rudely pointed out, nodding to your clothes again.
Leon was busy looking over the information, but you felt the need to speak up.
“Sir, I heard more about them. There’s this issue with missing girls…”
“We know about the girls, agent. Might be you’ll see some of them, but I don’t wish that for you.”
What the hell did he mean by that?
“Someone will take care of it soon,” he promised.
“Soon? How about the women he hurts before soon comes?”
You were ready to stand up, throwing your chair away, but a heavy, warm hand was placed on your tight. Firm and soft. You had to put a lot of effort into keeping your gaze on your boss, to not betray Leon. He didn’t make it any easier by tightening the grip.
“It’s not your place to question it.”
You nodded your head obediently, too embarrassed to speak up.
Leon finally looked up from the papers.
“What proof will be enough? Pictures? Samples?”
“Anything. Just get to the undergrounds and don’t die.”
Optimistic as always.
“Hopefully you won't get hit on again right in front of me.”
Lame, for a humorous voice that he forced himself to use.
“Bad joke,” you murmured, leaving Leon's car and throwing a final look at the strange tower.
The pit of hell built from glass that you were about to enter.
“That so? I didn't notice,” he answered just for the sake of arguing.
But it was bleak. Striped from emotion. Tiredness clearly got to him.
Entering the building and elevator with fake IDs and cards provided by DSO, you managed to make Leon smile by mentioning what awful corporate rats you would make. You could imagine how miserable the both of you would be in your suits, fancy boots, heels, facing a boring nine-to-five job… It was only a consolation someone in your line of work could think of. Wasn’t your own job the literal nightmare of most people, after all?
Leon fixed his grip on requiem hidden under his blazer when the elevator announced you reached the lowest floor.
“I distract the guards while you bother with opening the door?” You suggested.
“No, you do it. I got the guards,” he ordered, leaving you no place to argue.
“Making unnecessary mess already?”
“No, just making sure we leave this place alive.”
Well, whatever he wanted. You made your immediate way to the panel next to the reinforced doors, ignoring the yells of two men nearby. The silencer on Leon’s weapon did its job good – soon enough all you heard was whimpers of pain cut short.
You groaned in frustration when the panel glitched, but nothing moved.
“What?” Leon asked from behind. You were already gripping the knife from your belt.
“Nothing. I wanted to beat my own score.”
“Score? Like hacking with a timer?”
“Mhm. I fucked up, though.”
Soon the metal plate with the screen fell to the floor, and you were quick to meddle with the wires and connections inside.
“Doesn’t matter as long as we get to open the door,” Leon muttered, looking over your work.
Even after so much time you never really understood if he was watching you like that so he could intervene if you did something wrong, or if he admired your skill. Hard to say with a man like him.
“Red wire?” He incited when you wanted to cut the thing. “Risky.”
“It’ll be fine.”
The light in the room went out, replaced by red diodes when you pushed the button nearby. It was, indeed, fine. The door opened, initiating some emergency procedure.
You smiled and took out your own revolver, nodding for Leon to lead the way.
“Ladies first.”
He only waved his hand at you. “I always thought being a gentleman in this line of work is a mistake.”
“I’m more of a gentleman than you lately,” you pointed out.
He knew you didn’t really mean it, obviously, but it made him turn halfway. He looked like he wanted to deny it, saying he could prove it to you, but he decided against it. He only sighed, trying to play it off as annoyance at the lack of seriousness between the two of you. “That you might be…”
Strolling through the half-dim corridors, that suddenly started smelling of mold and something wet, Leon kept making the mistake of looking over his shoulder. At you. You didn’t have enough bravado to point it out, ask him to keep going and focus on the way, but you were getting seriously worried.
It was the first time you were ever concerned about his ability to concentrate. Suddenly you found yourself not only checking the backs and corners, but also looking in front of him, in case he failed to notice any danger.
It felt like offending him, insulting his years of training, but the worry in you grew greater than respect. You proved it to yourself once again: Leon wasn’t just a hero to you. He was a survivor, a man of flesh and bone who deserved so much better than he had. He was exhausted, troubled, and if he only ever allowed it, you would love to lift some weight from his stiff shoulders.
It was never like that before. He used to guide you into safer angles before you could notice any risk, fix your posture not out of want to mark his superior position, but out of experience. It made you realize how much you still had to learn, despite being reliable and well-trained.
It’s not a surprise that Leon panicked when he first realized the effect you had on him. He was deep in this life of blood and gore, familiar with ins and outs of the job, and he allowed no mistakes.
How sick was it? That it was now you who had to cover his back and remind him about taking careful steps?
When it first occurred he tried lying to himself that it was just an instinct of the urge to keep everyone around safe. It was impossible to keep that on for too long. You were not Claire, not Jill, certainly not like one of the miserable little girls like Ashley, and he never found himself that worried for them. And to be clear: he did worry. His sight was glued to you whenever that was physically possible.
He focused much more on you than on himself, without thinking it meant risk for the both of you.
“Things good there in the back?”
“Clear, sir.” You didn’t plan on making him aware that at this point you were walking shoulder to shoulder in the broad corridor. The grates on the sides made you even more conscious of the place, and you only hoped they weren’t cages hidden in the shadow.
“Minx–”
That was the only thing he managed to choke out, before a strong, suspiciously mushy arm was suddenly curled around his throat, yanking him to the side and pinning to the crates from behind. The terrible rattling sound made him grunt his teeth but… Well, if he died right here, at least he would never have to face you again after having to bite his lips to stop grinning because of what you called him. Even if he blushed, you wouldn’t be able to tell thanks to the red lights, but he knew and it was enough.
He felt like a teenager with a boner.
Apparently, that teenager was now fighting to not be strangled to death by an infected person in the cage. He groaned, trying to separate the monstrous fingers from his throat, and the sound mixed with your infuriated hiss.
The undead thing behind Leon kept throwing its head around. It was almost like it knew the only way to stop you from shooting was hiding behind the man’s big body.
The fingers snapped, and blood soaked Leon’s throat and chest at once.
You managed to take out your knife, considering it lesser risk of injuring your partner if you stepped closer. Yet then the monster reached for Leon’s face, the sharp nails almost making its way to his eyes, and you were left with no choice.
You would swear your hands were shaking, but the throw was marked by no mistake. The blade hit the rattling thing straight between its eyes, and Leon managed to pull away from its grip. Your revolver finished the work, and you sank to your knees close to the man to help him stand up.
His hand made its way to your neck like it was necessary for him to get a grip on you to calm his breath again. He loosened up the collar of his shirt with the other one.
“Alright?”
You were sure you said that, but you didn’t. His voice was raspy, mind and body still out of breath and rushed by adrenaline, but here he was, holding you close, yet almost curled in your lap while asking if you were alright.
“What?” You let out and had to stop a nervous laugh. You stayed still for a moment, listening to the rattling of death coming from further cages.
His heart calmed, but he had to look away from you.
“I’m alive. Thanks. Let’s move–”
“You can’t keep doing that,” you cut in.
“Doing what?”
“Acting like the main mission is to keep me away from any danger. I’m working here too, you know?”
“Oh, I know. I would be choking on my own blood right now if you weren’t damn good at that working…”
You looked down at him, realizing he still didn’t move up.
“Then start acting like it,” you said quietly, but with a firm tone.
You could see him gulp when he was forced to return your glare. Something changed in his eyes too quickly than you would like, though.
You tried to rush him up, move from over his body, but he surprised you with the hand traveling from your neck to the side of your chin. He moved your head back to him, almost roughly, but softened the grip immediately. His forefinger brushed the shell of your ear as he stared deep in your eyes.
“Then stop risking so fucking much,” he demanded, voice almost cruelly mocking. “All I do is worry about your next step.”
“And whose fault is that?” You snapped. “What the hell are you even talking about, Leon…”
You pushed him away, letting his back hit the ground, but still held out your arm to help him stand up. He looked at you like you offended him by the offer and then took it.
“You're not just a name to protect,” he grunted like it was a crucial reason for why you should listen.
The photos you took as ordered weighed your every step like they weren’t digital, and you were sure that the things you saw were now engraved into your mind.
You could forget your own bruises, the broken skin just over your wrist. What truly felt like a scalpel blade wound was Leon’s behavior.
He grumbled under his breath like a true old man, clearly on the edge of raising his voice before you could even properly leave the tower. The suit he wore annoyed him, the damn shirt felt too tight to breathe properly, and all he could do was stand in the corner, his head thrown back, and pray that the elevator would go quicker.
But old habits die hard. He wanted to curse himself, but he couldn’t help it. He looked at you, like he always did.
Suddenly he straightened his back at the sight of your state, and took a step your way.
“Come here,” he muttered and didn’t wait for your reaction. “You’re going to bust our cover.”
He turned you to face him with a firm hand on your shoulder. You didn’t dare to move at first, too nervous to even breathe properly. You only stared at him with wide opened eyes, as he threw a look at your bruised arm, then moved up, to wipe the blood off your broken lip with his thumb.
Anger blinded you at the contact and you stepped back.
“You don’t give a damn about the cover,” you pointed out with spite.
He shrugged so hard you thought his shoulders would break, then crossed his arms over his chest.
“I couldn’t fucking care less,” he admitted harshly, “which doesn’t change anything. I’m not doing any of this because I like it, and you should think about putting the job first as well–”
“For fuck’s sake, Leon!” You finally lost it and screamed.
“Keep it down.” He grunted and tightened his grip on your hand – a grip you thought was gone – when the elevator’s door opened.
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the rushing words and made your way to the exit. Soon enough you found yourself in the secluded parking behind the building, where Leon’s Porsche was parked.
The chilling wind did very little to calm you. You knew he was being an asshole because he was uncomfortable, distressed, maybe scared even, but you couldn’t take that for an excuse any longer. Especially after he tried to hint that you didn’t care enough about your job.
“Damn it all,” you muttered, trying to brace yourself for what you were going to scream in his face. Scream, because you doubted he would be up for a civil conversation like that.
Good, you didn’t feel like it either anymore.
“If you have something to say to me, say it,” he pressed, making you turn to him and look over his tense form. You never saw his eyebrows that frowned.
“Insulting me is one thing,” you started and could already see him rolling his eyes, which made you raise your voice, “insulting the effort I put to make this… this shit between us work, well that is genuinely pathetic.”
“This shit between us,” he repeated with a wicked smile on his face, like he dared you to say it again, and took a step closer. “Do you hear yourself?”
But you were too tired, too hurt and too annoyed to dwell on it.
“I don’t know what happened, because you run from approaching me about it, but your behavior is unbearable. Understand, Leon? I’m sick of it. I’m sick of how you act. You’re reckless, slower. You put us at risk, then blame it on me and lecture me about doing the same.”
He grunted his teeth, stepping even closer, now towering over you, face to face.
“You are forgetting yourself.” For a moment you thought he would call you ‘agent’ or by your second name, this time without any charm in it. Apparently he stopped himself before he could add it.
“Am I? Because from what I’ve gathered it’s not me who truly forgets things, who gets lost in her mind.” You held his gaze bravely. The surprise in his eyes was evident, but he wasn’t willing to let it show easily. “Leon, I have known you for years. I have always stood by your side and I would adore to continue to do so, but you know what? It’s fucking exhausting. I know you have your issues, hell, we all do, but you’re allowing them to take control over you. That’s not tolera–”
“Not tolerable? You know what is not tolerable as well? How dismissive you are about everything.” That fucking gaslighter… “You ignore things when they are not to your liking. You move on from problems and pretend they don’t exist.”
“I am anything but not dismissive,” you stated firmly.
“Yeah? Sometimes you act like you don’t even care if we will manage to go home in one piece.”
You would prefer going deaf rather than listening to Leon getting lost in his own words. He made screaming at him difficult, since that was simply pitiful. You shook your head with a grimace.
“A few minutes ago you were saying I should put the job first.”
“You should, but not at the price of your life! I knew people who–”
You looked him deep in the eye and could finally see that he was absolutely terrified of everything. Of his own thoughts, of how messed up it was. How he got lost and seemed unable to find a way back from the path.
“What are you talking about!”
“You don’t register the things happening around you–” he kept going, finding every next word even more awful and painful to let on. He tasted something bitter on his tongue, but he didn’t know how to stop it.
All of it. It has built up for too long.
You took a deep breath, your demeanor shifting. “Shut up…”
“What?” He let out in shock.
“Just shut the fuck up, Leon. Really.”
You backed up to make some distance between the two of you. Something was boiling inside of you begging for a release. You fought really hard not to scream at him. To hold back your tongue. You knew eventually you’d say things you didn’t mean.
Or you did actually mean them, but they would hurt him to hear. And he, in fact, didn’t want to hear any of that.
He wasn’t ready to settle any of those thoughts now. He only wanted to forget how he felt just for a moment. In the best outcome he’d never let himself feel any of that again. Ever. If he could bear it, that is.
You started walking past him to get away before any of that would turn into something worse.
“You can't just leave the talk like that.”
“Well… Try me,” you said, hearing dense footsteps behind you.
You were done. There was nothing to add in that matter since you knew he wouldn’t make any sense out of his mixed up thinking right now. You were finally getting close to the car – your way out.
“Fuck,” he grunted, speeding his steps to meet up with. “You need to work on your problem-solving skills, really.”
That was it. Ain’t no freaking way he just told you that…
“You did not. Hell, you did not just say that,” you busted out, almost shaking. You tried to hold it, but it was impossible to not raise your voice while facing the man, now looking through his blue eyes.
“My fucking problem-solving skills? Leon, I’m gonna ask you again, do you hear yourself? The fuck you mean, my skills?”
The shout grew louder as you stepped closer to him, looking up while he was just blankly staring at you. You could feel tears coming up to your eyes. You felt helpless against his stupidity.
“Since the beginning of this conversation you are trying to turn everything around, while it is clearly your problem! You won’t be gaslighting me like that!”
“Y/n...” he started with hesitation.
Without an intention to do that, he moved even closer to you. He was leaning over you when your back touched the cold surface of his Porsche and you felt something shift in your stomach. Probably just out of the stress of being trapped by his tense body. Right?
You could see muscles twitching on his neck, that betrayed how uncomfortable he felt. But he couldn’t think of moving away from you. He wouldn’t dare...
“No, Leon, don’t Y/n me. Try. Try just once, for fuck’s sake. Express, explain anyth–“ you practically begged from the annoyance about his behavior.
You thought you’d go mad because of him, practically burning to do something. You simply could no longer bear whatever he was onto. And you really tried.
His eyes were different this time, when you looked up. You couldn’t read what’s behind them by any means, but they seemed to have darkened.
And in that exact moment, suddenly he pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t pleasant nor delicate. It was rough and needy like he was starving for that for a really long time.
The shock made you stay still without even realizing that. It was like time had stopped for a few seconds when his lips were on yours.
When he shifted away you could see hurt in those eyes, like you just assaulted him with the worst hit. You could feel it in your own bones, deeply.
He felt crushed. The feeling was almost unfamiliar, considering his position and experience over all these years. What the fuck did he do? Why did he let himself off guard? Why was he so presumptuous? He might’ve just ruined everything… Like a damn dog off the leash.
“I am sorr-” He looked down trying to avoid eye contact.
You didn’t overthink much.
Actually, you didn’t think at all.
You grabbed at his jaw, feeling his stubble against your skin. He didn’t step back, and you used it in your favor, joining your lips again. The kiss was even rougher than the previous one, like you demand his surrender.
You thought you would go crazy after hearing him groan with relief against your lips. You just realized how much you liked his low voice like that.
He began to eagerly kiss you back when you put your hand in his hair, running it through them and gently pulling. He let his head follow that movement pulling away from you. He looked at you with hunger in his eyes. You felt like your insides could melt under his gaze. Pretty sure you looked at him with no other manner.
Well now you couldn’t stop, could you?
You gave him one more look, then moved to his collar that was bothering you, unbuttoned only a little. This time you kissed him delicately and shifted towards his cheek, then his ear and down his neck.
You buried your face between his shoulder and neck for a little while, hearing him moan slightly into your ear, like he fought to not let it slip out before. He was trying to control himself as much as he could, but it was so fucking hard.
Suddenly he snapped. Before you could even look at him, he grabbed your wrists in one of his hands and pulled them over your head pinning you down to his car. Now he was shamelessly towering over you, taking advantage of his size and strength.
A shiver went down your spine when you felt his breath on your neck.
“My turn,” he growled, repaying you with exactly what you have done to him before.
His warm breath was so addictive you let out a small whimper as you could hear his nervous chuckle over your collarbone.
You lifted one of your knees to pull him closer and wrap your leg around him. You pressed your hips against his as he sucked the skin on your neck, leaving a mark by mistake. Neither of you seemed to care.
He finally let go of your wrists to place his hands on your waist and run them over your back. You had enough time to forget that your limbs were ever held back from moving.
You gasped when he took your shirt out of your trousers to slide his hands under and caress your bare skin.
As revenge, you rocked your hips against his. You felt the tension in his pants while he grunted, not wanting you to know how badly ready he was. What you did know, was that the urge was mutual.
In response he put one of his tighs, so worked out with years of training, between your legs.
He slid his mouth down to your neckline, licking and tasting your skin as you tried with all your will not to bite him when you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Backseat, Kennedy. Now,” you ordered, not thinking what in God’s name were you saying to your professional partner.
That was a problem for you in the future. Everything that you were just doing was something to be worried about later. You were going to face any eventual consequences, you knew it, but not here and not now. Right now your mind was busy with something else. Someone else.
“Yes, ma’am...” he whispered straight to your ear.
You could feel your burning red cheeks, your organs flipping and a sensation between your legs requiring urgent attention.
When he left your body unattended, you could feel cold air on your skin and already started missing his touch. He reached out to open the back door of his Porsche. You thought he would let you in like a gentleman, but instead he sat down and looked up to you.
His gaze was like nothing else you have seen before on him. Cheeks red and flushed. God, you made a grown man look like a horny boy. For you.
You moved closer and threw yourself onto his lap, closing the door behind you. Now you saw how you were underestimating this car.
You put your hands on the collar of his shirt while kissing him. Somehow you both forgot to close your eyes and kept eye contact in the middle of that, but instead of feeling weird it was even more turning on. Joining your lips in a kiss, that long deserved, vital kiss, while staring directly into his soul.
You tried to relax a little and squint your eyes while your hands were working down his shirt. He grew more confident now, eager. He put his hands under your shirt and over your ribs, caressing your breasts with his thumbs.
You whirled at the delicate touch of his fingers. You helped him to take off his shirt and used this time to quickly get rid of your jacket and shirt too. You glanced at his stomach muscles only covered by an undershirt now, marked under tight material. Such a performative man-whore.
You yourself were left in a lacy bra that got him stunned, like he’s never seen a woman in his life. Something shifted in you when you saw the way he looked at you.
“See, that’s exactly what you are doing to me,” he murmured, avoiding your eyes.
You looked down at his pants and clung to his neck kissing him harshly like he was the last man on Earth. You needed him like water to live. He moaned deeply into you, pressing his hips to your crotch as you started humping him.
He wanted you now. He needed you even more. His breath was heavy and fast. He didn’t know how much more of that teasing he could bear.
Without any more stops your hand slid down his stomach, feeling all tense muscles. He started holding his breath involuntarily. You could feel how hard he was through the material of his trousers.
Oh, he was so down bad…
You stilled and robbed him of your touch, much to his grief. He whined shyly about the lack of it. You didn’t imagine he would be capable of sounds like that. And you loved it.
You guided his hands to your jeans. At first, he started to explore the curves of your body the way he wouldn’t dare before.
His strong arms wrapped around you were something that you could get used to, you thought. You threw those thoughts out as fast as they came. You can’t think like that, not now.
You took his hands, led him to unzip your pants and took them off by yourself, trying not to hit your head on the car’s headliner. After settling yourself down again you slid your hand inside his pants, working his cock slowly as he hissed at your protraction. He couldn’t wait any longer for you.
Or he’d cum only by looking at you.
He undid his trousers as comfortably for you as he could. You felt him trembling under you when you grabbed his length to guide it into you. The only thing you could hear were your breaths. Heavy, needy panting. He pushed his hips up to fill you with himself, and he grunted at the feeling of warmth and wetness you brought on him.
You slowly began to move, feeling ecstasy building up inside your stomach. He rested his head between your breasts inhaling your smell and trying to savor that moment. You both didn’t need much after what you’ve been doing for the past half an hour.
You were getting close as he was kissing your collarbone lifting you a little, which wasn’t any problem for him, to give himself more access.
You curled on him, biting lips not to scream, burring your face in the crock of his neck.
Later on you saw that you accidentally scratched his arms with your nails as he hit your spot a little too good. Old champ still got it in himself.
And suddenly it all went down as you screamed for your life, when you saw the half decomposed face with its bare skull and peeling skin crush at one of the windows.
Leon stiffened at the sight. As an effect of the surprise and instinct kicking in, his attention shifted toward the danger, leaving all his sincere feelings unguarded. He didn't even notice, until he was no longer holding back a loud moan.
You clung to his neck, hiding a grin that appeared on your face.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, and it was hard to say if it came out because of the turmoil outside or what he felt that moment. “Just… Shit, just let me handle that, honey…”
a/n: leon was supposed to be a mature man in check with his emotions here but then my other brain cell read part 1, said it's my opus magnum and that it deserves more drama THEN offered they will write the smut so here we are
@cherry-4200 @beforemdnight @punchthefruit @xlittlemissydjx @bug-brained55 @4ngelest @manhattanstrawberry @sleekni @anothergojostan
