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1998, October 27th, 9:00 am
Leon S. Kennedy wakes up with Chris Redfield half on top of him. While smothered in muscled chest is not the worst way to go (and he's seen some bad ways to go in the last few weeks) he needs to pee. Thus, Leon attempts extraction.
Sleepy Chris does not like that.
"Come on, let go, man," says Leon, glancing at the digital clock on the motel TV. "Check out is in an hour."
"Fuck checkout," says Chris into the top of his head.
"You want to tell Claire why we gotta pay for late check out, be my guest, buddy."
Low blow bringing up the little sister but they really can't afford late fees. (And he really needs to pee.)
It works. Chris releases him.
(Chris is tense about Claire. She doesn’t know they're fucking. Leon thinks she probably wouldn't care but hey, he gets the terror that comes from possibly disappointing family with your life choices.)
Not that Chris leaves the bed. "You shower first. That gives me five more minutes."
Leon showers fast. Then, while Chris has his shower, Leon does the Good Boyfriend Thing and gets coffee from the lobby for both of them. When Chris comes out of the bathroom (in only a towel) and sees Leon holding out a cardboard cup, he reaches out with a huge smile and says: "I fucking love you, Rookie."
Leon freezes.
Chris drinks his coffee. Moves on to the pile of his clothes to get dressed.
"I, uh, like you too?" Leon says at his back.
Chris doesn't seem to notice. It was probably just a joke. There's no reason to freak out.
Leon drinks his (terrible even with five sugar packets) coffee and tries not to freak out.
1998, October 27th, 11:00 am
"Okay what does everyone want?" Leon's volunteered for the 7-11 lunch run because he's trying to stay useful. Orders include the standards: Nachos, coffee, way too much sugar. They're going to die from malnutrition if Umbrella doesn't get them first.
Whatever, cash in hand off he goes while the others wait at the truck.
1998, October 27th, 11:15 am
First thought upon exiting the 7-11 and suddenly feeling immense pain, looking down, and seeing blood: So this is what getting shot feels like. Wow it fucking hurts. No wonder the guy at the academy was pissed.
Then it keeps happening.
And the situation catches up to him.
Wait what the fuck someone is shooting him. He should run or duck or—
He hits the ground because it's hard to stand after that much perforation.
That is a lot of blood and it's his and everything hurts and—
Where are the others? Are they okay? Who the fuck was grabbing him? Was that Chris yelling? Leon should probably tell him to run.
Leon passes out.
1998, October 27th to November 3rd
Leon spends about a week in and out of consciousness on a ventilator. That fucking sucks.
1998, November 4th, 8:00 am
Okay, on the plus side the shadowy agents of the US Government were unable to shoot or kidnap the others.
Bad side, Leon has been shot and kidnapped by shadowy agents of the US Government what the fuck.
??? side, they seem to have a very inflated view on how useful Leon was during Raccoon.
1998, November 4h, 10:00 am
Leon hadn't planned on having kids because one: He was only twenty one, and two: oh god what if he ended up like his dad, but wow that wakes his paternal instincts the fuck up. "She's a kid!"
"She is," the fucker says. "And it would be a shame if anything happened to her."
1998, December
Leon isn't allowed much info on what's going on out there but apparently the gang went to Antarctica?
What?
What???
1999, Spring
It's not like he expects them to come rescue him. That's unreasonable. He knows it's unreasonable. Do they even know where he is? Even if they do, they'd just get their asses killed. So he doesn't want them to be suicidal idiots or anything. (Although, as near as he can tell, they're being really good at that with their hunting down of random Umbrella shit completely on their own, guys please.)
He's not selfish enough to want that. He's not stupid enough to think he's worth that.
Anyways, he's busy.
Training is mostly getting yelled at which he's used to so that's fine.
Guns and stuff. Knife-fighting. He can do a flip now, that's cool. (That's totally cool.)
(Chris would think it's cool.)
1999, Whatever
It's not like he'd been happy back then. He'd mostly been some weird stomach turning mix of terrified, depressed and angry. But he'd also kinda, sorta, felt like he was part of a group that wanted him around. Plus he'd been riding that high of a new relationship. And yeah, he'd gone a bit too hard too fast which was normal. And Chris would have dumped him eventually, but—
(Maybe he wouldn't have, and now he'd never know for sure.)
(Unless this counts as being dumped.)
(Did this count?)
But anyways he's sure as fuck miserable now.
1999, September 30th
Leon spends most of the night looking at a gun, trying to think of a good reason not to.
???
Get dropped in the middle of nowhere. Almost get eaten. Kill some people. Lose some more faith in humanity.
Repeat.
2002, June
Krauser is an asshole who thinks Leon's an idiot but hey, Leon's life is a series of assholes thinking he's an idiot so what's one more? Go to South America, shoot some snakes, find a psychic fire girl, kill her parents. This was just another day in the life and wow that was fucked-up but oh well.
2002, July
Conclusions regarding topping versus bottoming:
Taking dick kinda sucks, or at least it does when the other guy is trying to make some sort of point (and possibly trying to break your back.) What the fucking fuck, Krauser.
Oh well, whatever.
It's worth some bullshit to wake up with his head on someone else's chest, an arm wrapped around his back. For a few minutes he can delude himself into thinking his life isn't the dumpster fire it is, because someone actually wants him around.
He hadn't meant anything back then. He'd been convenient. And now years of bullshit later, Leon was okay with doing the exact same thing to Krauser.
(Damn, he's kind of turned into an asshole.)
2002, July
Then Krauser fucking dies in a helicopter crash.
2003, February
Leon keeps track of the others because… he's not even sure why sometimes. They seem to be doing okay (by a certain definition of okay.)
Sherry is Not Dead. Good.
Claire's in some NGO that Leon's bosses really fucking hate so hey, good for her, but also a little worrying because said bosses will 100% just murder people they don't like.
Jill and Chris have joined some private anti-bioterrorism thing that's funded by Umbrella competitors who are totally stealing any of Umbrella's shit they can so, mixed bag there. (He's kinda assuming they don't know about that last part.)
When he really wants to hurt himself he wonders if they're a thing now. Sure, Chris had seemed to be really into dick but he'd apparently spent his life up until everything blowing up repressing the fuck out of that and hey, bisexuality existed, and Claire had seemed to think he liked Jill, so he would have gotten sisterly approval there, and Jill was way better than Leon at everything and—
Usually by this point of the thought process Leon is too drunk to continue.
2004, August
Spain. President's daughter. Crazy cult. Flashbacks to watching Alien at far too young an age. There is a woman wearing a very out of place red dress and sunglasses kicking his ass and this has got to be at least the 3rd or 4th most confused boner Leon has had in his short life.
Not the best trip so far.
2004, August
So Krauser isn't dead (good), has always hated Leon (bad but understandable), and was the one who kidnapped the kid and is now taking his shirt off so he can mutate into a weird monster man (very very bad, what the fuck?)
2004, August
Now he's dead for real.
2004, August
Maybe???
2004, August
No, okay, yes, dead for real.
2004, August
Thanks to Very Strange and Scary Yet Extremely Hot Mystery Lady, Leon gets the kid home in one piece.
Great.
2004, November 14th, 4:00 am
The first time he sees Chris again Leon almost shoots him. Because hey, don't just jump out at a guy on a boat full of zombies.
(Also Leon's trying to remember the map of the boat because there's a short as fuck timer on the self-destruct system and of course the insane scientist set that off before injecting themselves with weird shit, why do they always do that?)
After the brief moment it takes to go: 'oh, not a dead person and not trying to shoot me, probably shouldn't shoot them, hey wait fuck, I know this guy' Leon kind of just stands there not sure what to say because Chris is actually there, right there, looking at him like he actually did just get shot.
"Rookie?"
It takes Leon a moment.
Right, that's him.
"We got about five minutes before the ship blows up, buddy," is what he says in response, grabbing Chris by the arm and hauling him towards the helipad.
Where of fucking course the scientist is now a giant monster they have to shoot.
2005, November 14th, 6:00 am
They get to land. Turns out Chris can fly a helicopter. That's pretty cool.
Things get super awkward though.
"I thought you were dead," Chris says into Leon's shoulder. He holds Leon like if he lets go he'll fucking disappear or something. "I saw you get shot. I saw them haul you away, and I thought you were fucking dead."
"Oh," says Leon, not sure what to do with his hands so he just keeps them at his side. "Well, I'm not. Surprise?"
Chris finally lets go, just to grab the sides of Leon's face and ask what Leon's been wondering for the past six years. "Where the fuck have you been?"
2004, November 14th, 6:05 am
So, that conversation went poorly.
2004, November 14th, 6:30am
The helicopter had gotten them to land, but getting back to the city was going to take longer. Since they are both fucking starving they hit up the only thing open: a 7-11.
Well, Chris hits up the 7-11 using Leon's mastercard. He'd kind of stormed off fuming and there's a good chance the government was going to have some weird shit on the bill in a petty act of revenge but Leon honestly does not give a fuck about that so hey.
He flops on the bench outside and winces as his everything hurts. He'd gotten choked by a fucking tyrant knockoff (again). Why did they like doing that so much? What the fuck was it about him that screamed: 'lift me up by my neck and slam my head into a wall'?
"The coffee looks vile so I grabbed some of everything," Chris says when he returns. "You like sugar right? They had three kinds. How much do you want?"
Hm, sugar is good, that is true. "How vile we talking?"
Chris takes a sip from his own little cardboard cup. Grimaces. "Bad."
"Dump it all in—wait not the Splenda that shit's evil."
They eat terrible gas station nachos and drink terrible gas station coffee and don't talk much until the ride comes.
2004, November 14th, 9:00 am
They get dropped off in the city (such as it is) in front of a hotel Leon already has a room booked at because Hunnigan is the one bright light in the entire bureaucracy of the United States of America.
They both pause awkwardly on the curb. Leon knows there's no way Chris already has a place. He probably doesn't even have the budget for anywhere decent. Leon also knows that if he plays nice and lets Chris borrow the bed they will both end up in that bed and things will happen that they'll both regret and—
"So, do you have a place or do you need somewhere to crash?" Leon asks.
2004, November 14th, 10:00 am
Once inside the room Chris thumbs the scar on Leon's cheek. "Where'd that come from?"
Leon, because he's apparently grown into a total asshole, replies: "Ex."
Then, and he doesn't know if it's to make the concerned look in Chris's eyes better worse he adds: "He's dead."
Chris's grip loosens. "Shit, I'm sorry."
"I killed him." Wait, maybe that was too far, because Chris is letting him go and backing up. (He doesn't actually want Chris to think he's a psychopath or something. Fuck.) "In my defence he tried to kill me first so—"
Wait Chris only released him in order to do a fucking bear hug. Okay. Neat.
(Oh right, Chris had that whole Wesker thing. This is probably like, something they could bond over.)
(Actually does Chris know Wesker might not be dead? Because chatter says that guy isn't dead. Should Leon say something?)
But then Chris kisses him, so.
2004, November 14th, 1:00 pm
They end up fucking like teens in the backseat of a car borrowed from a dad who is going to yell for about curfew and know they are going to get grounded for weeks so they might as well get as much in now as they can.
After, Leon finds himself squished up against Chris like it's 1998 all over again. It kinda is. They're in some random hotel. Both in varying amounts of pain. They haven't eaten anything but crappy 7-11 food. Chris still waxes his chest.
But the hotel is way less crap. Leon has government health insurance. He could order a pizza if he wanted. Chris has somehow managed to get 5 times buffer.
And Leon can't fall asleep.
Neither can Chris.
Maybe that's why Leon can't fall asleep. The guy is fucking staring at him.
Finally Chris says: "If I wake up and this was a dream and you're still dead I am going to be really fucking pissed."
"I'm not dead," replies Leon, confused and vaguely indignant.
"Yeah well, you better fucking stay that way," Chris says into the top of his head.
2004, November 14th, 8:00 pm
They're woken up by a cellphone ringtone that sure as fuck isn't Leon's.
"Fuck," Chris says, rolling away to grab at the phone he'd left in his pants. "Yeah? What? Yeah that's great but—No wait, yes Jill, that is an amazing deal but something's come up—No, I know you can't get a refund on plane tickets through that place it's just—" There's a pause. "Leon's alive. I found him on the ship."
There is a very long pause.
Chris puts one hand over the phone and turns to Leon. "She wants a photo as proof."
Leon knows he looks like absolute distilled shit right now and a cellphone camera will make that look even worse. "Oh hell no."
So instead the phone is shoved in Leon's face with: "Then she demands you say something."
Fuck.
"Hello?" Leon says, trying not to also sound like distilled shit.
"Holy fuck," comes Jill's voice. "Chris isn't hallucinating; it's really you!"
She sounds happy, like, really actually possibly about to cry on him happy.
Luckily Leon doesn’t have to figure out how to respond to that because she starts swearing. "Fuck. I can't cancel Chris's plane tickets but I can get you on. Give me one minute this site takes forever to load—"
"I can't," he croaks out. Fuck he's going to have to have the same argument again.
Chris grabs the phone. "Hey, Jill, no, it's a long fucking story. I know it’s total bullshit but I'll explain later ok—Look he almost got strangled to death so he probably shouldn't be talking much. No I can't just kidnap him, Jill, no. Look I'll call at the airport. I promise."
Leon flops back into the mattress. "Got a plane to catch?"
Chris looks at the phone. Not him. "Yeah. Last minute flights have deals." He sorta shrugs. "We're on a tight budget."
Leon looks up at the ceiling. Yeah that tracks. "Better hit the shower. I can order some food if you have time." He probably doesn't, but it's worth an offer.
But instead Chris is furiously scribbling something on the hotel stationary. "Leon, look, I don't have a place right now but I have the cellphone, and Claire made me get an email."
He shoves the paper into Leon's chest. It's a post-it note rip-off so it sticks.
Leon looks down at it. "What?"
"Call me. Email me. Actually, try the email first, that works more places. Do you have email?"
Leon has a work one that he tries to avoid as much as possible. "Uh."
"There's this place called gmail, get one of those."
"When the fuck did you get tech savvy?" Leon asks.
Chris shrugs, and smiles. It looks amazing. "Oh it was under duress."
2004, November 14th, 8:30 pm
Chris pauses before Leon can shut the room door. "What?" Leon asks.
"Can I kidnap you?" Chris asks.
It's tempting. It's so fucking tempting. But the consequences--
"I don't think I'd fit in your suitcase," is what Leon says after a while.
Chris looks like he expected that, but he's still not happy about it. He grabs Leon by the arm and pulls him into another hug. "I thought you were dead for six years and I'm not doing that shit again. Call, email, something. Give me an address and a week without bioweapons blowing anything up and—"
Chris doesn't let go. For a moment Leon's worried that he really is about to be shoved into a suitcase. The messed up thing is part of him wants to be. "Fucking email me."
2004, November 20th, 6:00 am
Leon S. Kennedy writes an email.