Chapter Text
2022 - B.S.A.A. Human Resource Department
Leon would rather face a zombie than sign one more goddamn piece of paper. The room was just barely on the side of ‘too warm,’ probably intentionally. On his left, Chris was doing a better job at controlling his facial expressions, though not by much. The beard probably helped. Leon glanced down at his knee, where Chris’ hand rested, his thumb stroking slow deliberate swaths of pressure. Encouraging him to be patient.
“And when did the relationship begin?”
The B.S.A.A. Human Resources employee was looking at them with what Leon could describe only as a “world weary” expression. He suspected that they would rather face a zombie than the two of them. It was going better than the D.S.O. meeting at least. By now Chris had earned his reputation of going his own path and the B.S.A.A. just let him. In the D.S.O., they liked to keep Leon on a tighter leash, one that was growing increasingly too tight. There had been dozens of questions into their relationship, each one feeling more demanding, more insistent, more prying, than the last. How had they met, when had they begun dating, when had they moved in together, who slept on which side of the bed, had they shared any classified information with each other, and more.
This was easier than that at least. And he had Chris here with him. The D.S.O. had interviewed them separately.
“In 2018,” Chris’ voice cut through Leon’s displeased musings.
The HR employee made a note and then yawned, “and the engagement occurred?”
“Yesterday,” Chris again supplied the answer, correctly assuming by the scowl on Leon’s face that any answer he gave would be less polite. Leon shifted and the hand on his knee lightly squeezed; he went still, glancing sidelong at Chris. The other man gave him a quick smile, one of encouragement, and Leon slumped back into his chair again.
Another bout of silence as the HR rep made a few notes and tallies on a piece of paper and then tucked it into a binder that caused a snort of laughter to escape from Leon before he could help it. He shouldn’t be surprised that the “Redfield, Chris” binder was that large. Chris flicked his knee which didn’t help him suppress the laughter.
“Sorry,” Leon mumbled, though the grin remained on his lips.
“Just need you to sign these N.D.A.s, and these forms agreeing that the nature of your relationship will not compromise you in the field if the B.S.A.A. and the D.S.O. ever have conflicting instructions or order for overlapping assignments,” the tired employee said, pushing the last bits of paperwork over to them. The smile faded from Leon’s lips and he felt his spine grow tense, shoulders shifting backwards uneasily. He didn’t look at Chris but he knew the posture that the other man would have. It had happened at the D.S.O. too.
He couldn’t promise that. Neither of them could. It had happened even before they were even officially together, both willing to sacrifice the mission to keep the other safe. The piece of paper loomed up at them. It felt like a test, in a way. How much do you love each other? If you really love each other, would you sign this? How were they supposed to prioritize their jobs over each other? They both signed the N.D.A. easily enough. Chris’ tidy, military signature looking like he’d win a damn award for his handwriting. Leon’s lazy scrawl. Both pieces of paper were shoved back towards the employee who put one in the "Redfield, Chris" binder and another into "Kennedy, Leon S.." Leon stared down at the last piece of paper. It stared back. Chris remained still, save for the way his thumb kept running over Leon’s leg.
They both signed. They both knew it was a lie. Perhaps both the D.S.O. and the B.S.A.A. knew it was too.
The air outside the stuffy room was a relief. It hit Leon like a wave crashing over a desiccated shore and he drank it in greedily.
“I hate paperwork,” Chris grunted, all professionalism falling from his shoulders as he draped an arm around Leon’s. Leon couldn’t help but grin as it seemed they were trading places, he now more relaxed and tension tight around Chris’ shoulders.
“So not gonna retire anytime soon? Become a desk jockey?” Chris went to elbow him and Leon swung his arm down to deflect the hit, continuing, “I mean, forty-nine, Redfield. Pushing fifty.” Leon found himself shoved against the side of their car and he grinned, expression wily and pleased as he tilted his head up with an arched brow.
“No,” Chris huffed, “not for a long time.” He moved his hands off of Leon’s waist after squeezing it lightly. Leon straightened up and tugged the door open for Chris, leaning down to kiss the side of his head as he got into the car, dodging the swat to his ass as he hip-bumped the door shut. Swinging around to the driver’s side, Leon then flung himself down in the seat and closed his eyes for a moment, letting the last of his stress ease away. It only took a couple seconds before he felt Chris reach over to play with his hair and that finished the job of relaxation.
They were both silent for a moment. Leon leaned into Chris’ touch, letting his thoughts drift outwards, away from paperwork, away from thoughts of retirement. They were getting married. That was what counted. He exhaled a long-held breath, turning his head to kiss Chris' hand, eyes opening with a playful sigh. Chris looked at him with a curious grin as Leon turned the car on. Leon glanced sidelong at Chris, eyes gleaming in amusement, “hey…at least now we get to do all the fun shit. Starting with…”
Chris grinned instantly, “telling Claire and Jill?”
"Yeah," Leon's lips twitched, "and then...well, they can help us figure out the rest."