#Chreon fic

[mysteriousanderfels]

They don't really care about us

On a normal morning day, Leon Kennedy is ambushed by a strange man in a suit...

Setting: Following RE8's epilogue.

***

“Hello?”

“Hi, mom. How are you?”

“Oh, hi, honey! I’m fine! How are you?”

“I’m fine, too.”

“Oh, it’s good thing you called, I’ve meaning to do so! Mike’s birthday is coming soon, you know! He’s planning this big party at home and I really want you to come! Don’t bring your swimsuit though, I’m planning to drain the pool, hah! He doesn’t want a chaperone around so I will not deal with the shenanigans of three dozen college students!”

“Hah, yeah… Mom, do you remember what we talked about in Switzerland?”

“… Oh. Yes…?”

“Good. Remember it well?”

“… Yes… So it’s that time, then…”

“Yes.”

“Aah… your brother will be so upset. He’s been planning this party since he became the star of his football team with that final touchdown or whatever. Do you know just how many cheerleaders will be here? And he also wanted you to be here so much.”

“I know, but would you rather have him get his birthday party or have him by your side for a few more decades?”

“… I know. I understand very well.”

“I’m sorry mom. To be honest I could have given you more leeway but then it was your birthday last week and I didn’t want to spoil your spa day with your girlfriends.”

“Oh honey. I see. Well, at least I have more than a day to work with.”

“I can talk with Mike if you want.”

“Oh please, I raised a little 007, I think I can handle your little brother.”

“Heh, I have no doubt. I’ll try to keep in touch but as you know, it won’t be as often from now.”

“I know. You just… watch over yourself. That’s all I want. You be careful. Very careful, alright?”

“I will. It’s all… been coming down to this moment.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear, I believe in you, Kólen’ka.”

“Love you, mom.”

The nickname is a slip up, he knows, but it’s fine. They’re already being extra careful with the burner phones and they’re about to set the plan into motion. It would too late for someone to do anything about it.

And anyway, it was nice hearing it. 

***

If one can take a full scope of DC, they will see millions of things happening at once on that indolent autumn morning of September, where the air is crisp, the weather clear and mostly sunny despite the few gray clouds shrouding the sky on that particular day.

What you’ll see is people wearing boxy suit jackets and women wearing sensible skirts, pantsuits and pumps, milling about fake flagstones and ads-ridden subways. Some are carrying suitcases filled with cunning lawyers-crafted contracts about to make someone’s life amazing or miserable, and others are rolling backpacks to fend off the evil of scoliosis enumerated by those same subway ads...

You’ll also see more armored barricades because of the increase in impromptu protesters. Their hoarse-voiced chants drown the perimeter but never carry far enough to the monster in power and its minions. It only hurt the ears of the police officers in body armors, underpaid to deal with the zeal of a bunch of college students pumped on kale juice and coffee shakes so early in the morning.

The whole show is overcast by oversized windows streaked with night rain, humidity and tears.

Yes, for millions of people, DC is the city of better opportunities. The city of powerful monuments that inspire more awe than contemplation. The city that doesn’t take any risks. The city where you can’t get lost in because there’s nothing to lose yourself in.

And as a man observed from outside one of those oversized windows fixes his sleeve garters, It’s been decided it should be in DC where they should finally meet – where everyone is the same kind of nasty: feds.

***

Leon yawns as he walks the shortcut path to his appartement – the one with the liquor store in the way - grocery plastic bag in hand. It was Sunday and blissfully, nothing came from his meeting with Hunnigan at the office. Well, mission-wise at least; but if you take into account the heavy, cranky conversations and meetings he’s started getting from DSO’s hierarchy, he won’t be too quick to stamp ‘blissfully’ on the day just yet.

Something shifty’s going on there. Something has them on edge for a long while now and they can’t seem to just cut the shit and spill it. Chewing the fat with a bunch of feds in suits has never been Leon’s favorite part of his job. Leon snorted to himself. He should be counting his favorite parts of his job - he’d be wrapped up quicker than the other way around.

All depression-induced thoughts aside, something’s not sitting well for a couple of years now and it just keeps on getting more and more fishy - like a decaying corpse about to get finally busted.

What if I’m the decayed corpse, though…

They’re sending him on confidential ops and mission but still want him to never stray too far. They want him to investigate things but also never ask too much questions. To sum it up, it comes back to what he hates to admit and what everybody who knows him is aware of : They want him on an even tighter leash.

Leon grits his teeth.

Well fuck them. Leon is also having his own fishy thoughts. Thoughts about the DSO’s secret dealings with shady agencies, about Blue Umbrella not so squeaky clean and about what he heard from a certain on-going mission in Europe.

He’s drawing his conclusions, he’s cross-referencing his clues and mapping out his exists on the big pinboard inside his mind where it’s safe—since he can’t hazard having one in the privacy of his own flat.

Privacy… is what a goldfish probably have more than him.

"My obsession is to break away from all of this."

It’s a confession he uttered in the dead of the night once.

Is this what’s rattling them? Do they suspect something? Did Leon let something slip up on his glassy façade?

He is so caught up in his train of thoughts, he doesn’t notice the figure standing still twelve feet away in the middle of his path.  

It’s man in a suit.

Leon halts, perplexed for a minute by the stock-still stance as he takes him in because the individual is looking straight at him.

The beginning of a frown mars Leon’s features because it’s getting weird, but still doesn’t open his mouth yet for some reason.

The man starts fucking blinking at last and with that comes a smile that slowly brings life to a static face.

 “Leon Scott Kennedy?”

“… Who’s asking?” Leon starts fully registering his surroundings now.

light blond hair pomaded back. Medium length. Symmetric complexion, high cheekbones, high nose. Light eyes, blue or green, can’t tell from the distance. But freaking pale he could feel the icicles dripping from them as they bore into Leon.

Black suit, red tie, dress shoes – disadvantage there – and… metallic briefcase in the right hand.

The man is capable of facial expression as his eyes crinkle with his smiling reply. “My name’s Nicholas Wentworth.”

“Rings no bell.”

He smiles again with soft huffs, this time showing off a perfect row of teeth. “It won’t.” His voice carries like the music of rills. “But you on the other hand, you’ve been ringing every bell in my life.”

Huh? “Excuse me, what?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just,” the stranger shakes his head, looking almost embarrassed as he smiles to himself in a way that looks so youthful, Leon remembers to ponder the age of this weird as hell bloke who seems to want something with him.

And what a mistake that is. The guy looks rather young which puzzles and rattles Leon even more for he can’t evaluate the situation to a perfect turn. He’s got a fluffy blond mane but slicked the way it is, he reminds Leon of all the pompous new-money his superiors love to invite annually for some more funds and tax-deductible donations.

Maybe he was trying to make himself look older with that hairstyle and that obsidian fabric so expensive it’s probably an offense to refer to it as a ‘black’ suit. Nevertheless, he clearly has some years under Leon – what’s with that clean-shaved, glowing skin even in the dim alley he seems to have oh-so-coincidentally stumbled across Leon in.

“Just so thrilled to finally meet you in person.” His grin is actually so freaking genuine Leon wants to recoil. Is this what celebrities feel when they come across a groupie? What’s the procedure in these kinds of situations? Leon can’t seem to recall a training for that.

But all of a sudden, all smiling lines drop and the pale eyes round into something akin to worry. “Oh, are you still favoring your left arm after that clean up job in the Bahamas?”

 Leon goes under water right then. His surroundings lose volume and his breath catches; he dares not glance down at his left hand holding the grocery bag—he dares not twitch.

Whoever this is, is officially a hazard.

And whoever this is, is not done being a hazard. “By the way, I’m sorry about Mathilda. I know you lost her on that last job. Such a shame. She went through quite some adventures with you.” The stranger talks as if he’s been chewing the fat with him for at least an hour!

“Who the fuck are you,” Leon demands with a flat tone.

The stranger gives him another one of his poised smiles as if everything is clear and simple and Leon is the dense one. “I’m your co-worker,” he allots with a dimpling smile, “we work in the same agency.”

At that moment, Leon doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or betrayed; all he knows is that he’s puzzling at breakneck speed. “Never seen you before.”  Of that he’s sure of. He’s always been good with faces - no way a quaint mug like this would slip past his attention.

“You wouldn’t,” the other confirms his doubts, “after all, only five people know of my existence there. Well, nine, if you count the people that know me without knowing what I do. The pilot, the janitor, Bobby from the cafeteria…”

“And what the hell do you do?” Leon cuts him off, unimpressed by the minute.

“You,” he says flippantly.

“What?”

“I do you.” He flashes his teeth again for a second, almost proud… Definitely proud.

What has he said again? He was thrilled to meet him? Yeah, he wasn’t lying about that bit. That’s ‘thrill’ if Leon’s ever seen it splattered on a face and it’s probably not the fun kind.

“I’m flattered but riddles don’t do it for me anymore. Try getting to the point and maybe you’ll get lucky.”

A small chuckle. “Too bad. I was being honest. You are… everything I do.”

Leon’s furrow deepens.

The stranger takes a visible inhale and close his eyes with it. When he opens them, a new expression is staring at Leon: firm, unsmiling, colder if that’s even possible by now. “I was hired to study you,” he states without preambles. “Every day for ten years I was served Leon Scott Kennedy for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” He tilts his head, narrow his eyes a smidgen and adds almost contemplatively. “I know everything about you.”

The phrase resonates inside the agent’s head like the vibrations of a bell.

Leon always thought nothing can shock or surprise him much anymore and yet, he never thought one sentence could hold its own weight against two decades of bioterror horrors.

“Who you are, what you are. How you fight, why you fight. How you walk, how you talk,” he raises an index finger to his temple, “how you think.” Then he shut his eyes and keeps on going as if in a recital. “I know about your missions, their wins and their casualties. I know what sets you off,” he opens back his sharp, pale eyes, “and what calms you down. I know your friends and your enemies and the ones in-between . I know the drinks you enjoy and the company you enjoy them with,” the man intimates with a cynical smile.

Leon is rooted to the spot with dread. A dread weighting cold in his gut and winding up around his esophagus, stealing away his repartee.

He stares at the man with wide eyes before finally uttering in one full breath, “You’re full of shit.”

“No, you’re full of shit,” the other man returns instantly and evenly, that cynical lip-quirk still plastered on his face like an animatronic on pause. “I can see the fear in your eyes but you know what real dread is, agent Kennedy? Real dread is knowing your thoughts lie to you even when you think you’re being honest. What you’re thinking right now, that this is bullshit, that I’m full of shit – it’s a lie and you’re slowly realizing it. No need to hide behind your own smokescreen, agent Kennedy.”

“I’m not hiding anywhere. You on the other hand, you look like you’ve been holed-up somewhere like a little stalking creep, doing your homework and waiting for the day you finally get to shine. Yeah, you look like you didn’t see a lot of sun. Were you kept in some crypt under a church or somethin’?”

The other man smiles and says with a lilt, “No, I was right under your nose. We actually crossed path once in the White House. It was during the thanksgiving celebration dinner when you were assigned to guard detail for the late President.” He scoffs. “That one didn’t turn so well, right? Don’t worry, I was there once and it was the only time I allowed myself to be that close to you. You looked… sulky.”

“You fucking creep…”  He doesn’t understand who or what the fuck is going on right now but Leon doesn’t even want to think about it; the only thing he knows for sure is that he’s going back from where he was coming from for some well-deserved answers.

“I get your anger. I’d be angry, too if I found out the very people I work and risk my life for pulled a clandestine operation behind my back. Then again, you never really trusted them either, did you? Why is that I wonder? Is it because they never stopped using you and abusing you like a fucking dog?”  

What did the Bible say again? The devil will look appealing to the eye; and in that moment, Leon has never been made more aware of that truth.

“And what does that make you? At least I wasn’t hired to spend years hiding somewhere, watching the life of someone else, if I even was to believe you. I think there’s a word the teens use for that: a nolife.”

“You’re wrong. I’m nothing like you. I know exactly what I’m doing while you never had a say in the matter.” His voice slowly takes a turn for the acerbic - still calm and composed but with an underlying venom that has always been there, waiting to be outright spewed. “Do you know what you’re called in the reports that aren’t meant for you? A great weapon. Or better yet, a pawn.” He shrugs as if to drive in the amount of disregard that last word carries on its own. “To be honest, I sympathized with your story. After all, you were literally kidnapped into this life? Your hand twisted by the president himself? And yet you never tried to jump ships?”

Leon balls his fists, nose flaring and feeling the red tendrils of rage overtake his senses.

“Ah, of course you couldn’t before because they had a bargaining chip over you head. But Sherry Birkin is all grown up now. An itsy-bitsy government agent herself. Hah, this life really does choose you and not the other way around. So what’s holding you? Do you like being their little pet so much? No, you wouldn’t be on SSRIs and Jack Daniel if you were. Or maybe… nothing’s holding you now and that’s why you’ve been snooping around and making calls here and there.”

When he finally stops talking, and Leon makes sure he’s really finished, he evenly snips. “What’s in the briefcase?”

The blond man narrows his eyes for a second as he scans Leon’s posture and shift a hand into his pants pocket. Leon carries but his gun is beneath his leather jacket zipped up to the neck. The man will beat him to it no matter what so Leon gets ready to dodge—only for it to be a pair of handcuffs, and Leon watches as he handcuffs the briefcase to his wrist before finally retorting, “None of your fucking business.”

And for once, Leon returns his scathing smile because that’s exactly what he wants to hear.

He just wants an excuse to lunge at this hazardous motherfucker.

To hell with methodical reasoning, he’ll deal with who and what the fuck this is later. For now—

He springs in with a readied punch that is instantly grabbed by one hand and knocked off with the other. Leon dodges the slap coming his way and goes for a knee in the crotch that is bluntly blocked, too. The blond man seizes the momentum of pushing away Leon and his knee by throwing two consecutive hooks, making Leon cross his arms over his face in the defensive.

The fucker is definitely a trained agent, Leon registers in the back of his head as he sustains the rapid onslaught of unrelating counterpunches. Finally, in a fresh impetus, the man swings and misses, making him slightly spin, which Leon immediately seizes up and drives for a kidney punch.

The wince he gets out of it is the best sound in the universe in that moment; Leon revels in it and follows instantly with his elbow dying to meet that smug face, too, but it’s caught before impact—so fast?! —and that bastard even dares to seize the opportunity of the hand clasping Leon’s forearm to try and toss Leon away.

But they seem to be of the same built and it turns into a deadlock of flailing limbs that has Leon aiming for a kick in the knee to throw off the man’s hold on him—kick that works in making the asshole hunch over but Leon doesn’t expect the retaliation to be so quick as he takes the – metallic – briefcase like an uppercut to the chin with enough force to make him spin.

That’s all the momentum the other man needs to effectively throw him off, this time with blunt kick to Leon’s small back, making the latter stumble away.

Mandible aching and ears ringing with adrenaline, Leon reaches for his zipper jacket—but the other man beats him to it as if not only in the business of meeting Leon even-steven but also in the business of reading his mind, and Leon is shocked with a bullet to the shoulder from behind, efficiently bringing him down.

 “Argh—” Leon jerks back, holding his bleeding shoulder.

“Go ahead, see how much time it’ll take you to zip down your jacket and take out your gun before I put at least four bullets in your head,” the man says with his silencer still pointed at Leon, his suit jacket open, now, revealing the holster’s strap across his white dress shirt and tie.

“Go ahead then. Have a feelin’ you could’ve done it many times before,” Leon huffs derisively, “but I guess the leash you have on is cut from the same cloth.”

“I’m nothing like you,” he replies back with a venomous smile. “How can I study you for ten years and make the same mistakes. No, you’re in this on your own. I’m just the one who’s about to put a real end to your streak of good luck.”

Leon glowers at the silencer, trying to keep his head high despite the bleeding pain and the stiffening fear.

Is that it? Is this how he’s going to die? As a fed killed by another asshole fed?  

Well shit.

The fucker returns his glower just as much, his smiling pretenses long gone. If Leon doesn’t have other urgent things to process, he’d notice how weird that is. Leon would’ve sworn he was the type to smile or laugh psychopathically in a moment like this. But this guy looks like he’s acting on a personal vendetta.

It’s slight but Leon can see the fingers actually trembling around the gun – as if he’s trying very hard to withhold himself.

Leon doesn’t understand.

“But I’m not supposed to do so; at least not right now. Right now… you seem like you could use a friend.” The gun stays pointed at him as the other hand fetches inside the suit jacket for a…is that a satellite phone?

“How about I call for one?” The man asks with a renewed smile and start taping numbers on the device. As long as the gun is pointed at him, Leon can’t do much but stare in stark confusion and put pressure on his bleeding wound.

The stranger put the phone to his ear and wait, his icy eyes gleaming knowingly.

Just what the actual fuck is goin—

“Hello? Is this Chris Redfield?”

Leon’s eyes all but fall out of their sockets.

“… Who is this?”

“Hi, my name’s Nicholas Wentworth. I'm really sorry to bother you but do you know a certain Leon Kennedy?”

“… Leon?”

“Yes, I believe he’s your friend?” the man asks with a sympathetic tone while his eyes are piercing through Leon like arctic winds, leaving Leon’s frozen in shock.

“How did you—what’s going on?”

“CHRIS!” Leon shouts out, snapping out of his stupor. He can’t hear Chris but he’ll be damned if this motherfucker is bluffing at this point. His voice downright cracks with the sheer ferocity of his distress. “DON’T TRUST A WORD OF THIS SONOVABITCH!”

The uproar doesn’t faze the man on the phone in the slightest as he continues, “I think he needs your help. He’s been badly wounded from a gunshot and I thought you’d be the best person to contact.”

“Leon?!” Chris startles as he hears the unmistakable deep tone of voice. “Who the fuck is this?! Put Leon on!”

“CHRIS, HANG UP!”

“Of course. Here you go.” And he tosses the phone right away, stopping short of Leon’s legs. He then withdraws his gun and give Leon an obscure smile. “You’re welcome,” he says before turning away and walking away!

Leon is left watching the straight back retreat with big, wide eyes as he finally hears Chris’ bellows from the satellite phone. Leon reaches out to cut the transmission but Chris’ distressed voice pulls at his heartstrings in the last moment.

He doesn’t have it in him to leave him out in the cold and so distressed like this.

Pain flares up inside him again from all the physical and mental turmoil he went through in the span of all thirty minutes and clicks on the speaker. “Chris…”

“Leon!”

“In the flesh,” he tries to sing-songs but it comes as just a pitiful groan. He starts to stand up to finally tend to his wound.

“Are you alright?! What the fuck is going on?! Talk to me!”

“’M talkin’. Don’t be a worrywart now. It’s in the shoulder, I know how to deal with it. Kinda having déjà vu, right now,” he says the last part as a grumble to himself.

“What? What’s in the shoulder?!”

“The bullet. Didn’t you hear anything that was said?”

“Don’t start with me, Leon, I’m completely out of my depth right now!”

Aw. Cute.

It may not be actually so bad to have Chris’ voice droning as background noise while he gives himself emergency first aids. 

“Okay, okay. Hold on a sec, lemme get—ugnh, comfortable.” He snatches his grocery bag and leans against the wall, hidden behind a dumpster.  

“Leon, call 911, get an ambulance!”

“No, it’s a bullet so they’ll want answers. That’ll bring me to the DSO and I can’t have that.” Speaking of, Leon asseses his wound and notices that the bullet is still inside. “Fuck—” he grits angrily. That’s going to be a bigger pain in the ass. He fetches the vodka from the bag, thanking the gods for swift openings. First, a big swig.

“What? Why? What’s going on with the DSO?”

The strong alcohol sets his nerves down at least. “You know we’re having this nice chitchat on that sonovabitch’s phone, right?” He opens his jacket and fetches his key chain first. It’s made of a pocket knife.

“The—is it a satellite phone?”

“Mm-hm.” They both know satellite phones are not full-proof either, not without the right precautions.

“Fuck, how did they know?!”

“He knows.” Leon corrects without delving too much, trying to focus on even breathings and tearing a good stripe of his henley with the blade.  

“Who is he?”

“No fuckin’ clue. I hope you’re packing from wherever you are right now. Tracking people down seems to be this fucker’s forte.” He can hear Chris’ famous unhappy grumbles and grouses made under his breath as he soaks the stripe of cloth in alcohol and close it on his wound.

The hiss he makes seems to tear Chris away from his barrage of questions. “Okay, Leon, listen to me, I don’t know who this bastard is or what’s his motive, but I’m gonna find a way to reach out—”

“Chris, no, you’ll compr—”

“No, listen to me, I’ll find a safe way. Then we’ll finish this conversation. Got it?”

“Ngh… Whatever you say, boss...”

“You see to your wound and heal yourself. That’s the most important right now. Understood?”

Leon can’t help but smile. Chris Redfield sure is a leader of troupes through and through. Somehow, even if Leon never likes being patronized around by hierarchy, it never feels the same way when it comes from Chris Redfield.

Yeah, ‘somehow’. Just say you’re fucking biased Kennedy because you fucked the man a few times and you liked it every time it happened.

But Chris’ care always feels overwhelmingly genuine – even when it’s only an inflection in a voice coming from a thousand miles away. He knows Chris cares about him. That’s his only certainty when it comes to their ‘situation’ after all.

And so Leon smiles despite the burning pain because the flutters in his gut is pretty hilarious giving his current situation. “Sir yes sir.” When nothing from the phone comes right away, he feels obliged to add more seriously—more softly, “Okay, don’t worry about me, you know I can handle this.”

Seems like that’s what the other end of the line was waiting to hear because a reply is finally heard. “Good. I know you can, Kennedy. Remember what you told me that time about your obsession?”

My obsession is to break away from all of this.

“Yeah.”

“Remember my answer?”

Well, I’ll be here. Whenever you need me.

“Yeah.”

“Kill this phone now, and stay sharp.”

“Roger.”

Leon can hear an intake of breath—shaky.

“Over and out.”

Leon turns off the satellite phone but keeps it close. He feels a sense of levity despite the sweat dripping off his forehead and he knows it’s all because he got to talk to Chris. Chris Redfield is everyone’s rock and he desperately needs something like that right now. He’s a man of his word, too and he’s alive – which is actually a deep-seated worry he’s been carrying within his bones for God knows how long.

So all must be good, right?

He’s not alone.

Leon bites another stripe of cotton and uses his knife to rip it from his poor, tattered shirt.

Scriitch.

He’s not fucking—

He rolls it on top of the first bandage to stop the bleeding and makes a tight knot using his teeth.

—Alone!

“Hah… Hah… Fuck.”

Leon knocks back another mouthful of vodka and gathers his stuff. He needs to get home now as quick as possible before the bandages lose their pressure. He also needs to wait for whatever Chris’ going to do and think things through and he can’t do the latter in the comfort of the cobblestones beneath his ass.

This ain’t over, motherfucker.

[kitsune024]

Biohazard | Resident Evil Fanfiction

Barhopping by tveckling

He already knows whose steps is coming towards him without looking. Knows the gait, knows the heavy boots, knows the sheer aura of strength that's being projected. He's been hoping, fearing, dreading that this would happen, but now that it is all he does is stare down into his glass. It's almost empty; he pours more from the bottle next to his arm. It's getting empty, less than half left, and he decides he'll have to order a new one soon.

He doesn't turn around, doesn't look. Simply drinks.

Chapters: 1/1

[somnicordia]

"I'm going to regret this."

[leonisdumbasallhell]

can you draw chris dangling leon by the scruff of his neck like a kitten. bonus points if he’s all fucked up because that’s chris’s go to way for getting him out of danger while in battle

This is not exactly what you asked for but it is what popped into my head lmao, so i hope it works uwu

[fonulyn]

for Chreon week Day 5: "We're too old for this."

-

Every single bone in Chris’ body ached and he hadn’t even done anything to warrant it today. Joys of age, he figured, he’d been too old for being actively on the field for years now and only recently he’d gotten to properly slow down. His joints were creaky, his back ached if he as much as bent down weirdly, and he could’ve sworn he got more grey hair by the day. He also now needed reading glasses, something he still had hard times accepting, but after the millionth time Leon refused to read something for him he relented and got a pair.

Growing old was something Chris hadn’t really put much thought into. He’d always assumed he’d die out there in his thirties or something, and retirement plans weren’t exactly something he’d figured he’d need. It had almost felt preposterous to assume he would live to retire, at some point. Like he’d be tempting fate if he planned things too much. He’d done it before, had great plans for the future, only for them to be yanked away from him in the most painful of ways. He was much more careful to wish for things, after.

But now, things had slowed down, some. He was approaching the age that he really shouldn’t be out there anymore, he was just slowing the team down. And while Leon would argue if he said it out loud, Leon wasn’t in his prime anymore either. Not in that sense.

After brushing his teeth Chris shuffled to the bedroom, smiling at the sight. Leon was starfished on the bed, facedown and snoring, as he’d obviously been so tired that he’d passed out the second he’d hit the mattress. He’d been pushing himself too hard, again.

So, Chris moved slowly not to wake him up. He managed to roll Leon over so he could free the covers from underneath him, and then even managed to get them both settled comfortably under them. All of that and Leon didn’t even properly wake up, only enough to yawn and blink at Chris, smile softly at him.

Chris pulled Leon closer, until he was tucked right against Chris’ chest. He was clearly mostly asleep still, as he just sleepily nuzzled into Chris’ shirt and then went still again, his breaths slow and steady. With a hum, Chris tucked his chin on top of Leon’s head, caressing his back in slow, circular motions. “We’re too old for this shit,” he muttered, although he knew Leon wasn’t awake to hear it.

Now that he’d said it out loud into the darkness, he liked the thought. They were too old, indeed. They had earned a cushy office job or retirement. He’d been dragging his feet out of a sense of loyalty but he was fairly sure that if he put in a request it’d be approved in a heartbeat. He was also pretty sure Leon was in the same boat, with the new director that seemed to actually consider the agents human.

“As of now, I’m done,” Chris went on, speaking softly not to wake Leon up. “And tomorrow I’ll get you on board. You owe me some nice slow retirement days together.” He pressed a kiss on top of Leon’s head. “Maybe we can get one of those porch swings to sit in.” He paused for a moment, before adding. “We’d probably need a house for it first, though.”

Leon made a soft sound while fast asleep. Chris took it as agreement.

[silvercap]

drabbles: maybe ✿ or # ?

Oooh!! Yes :) (Prompts)

✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention + #: shaky hands 

Leon moans as Chris sponges the cool cloth over his forehead in an attempt to offer the slightest bit of relief, fever-bright eyes staring up at him under knitted, concerned brows. His skin is almost overwhelmingly hot to the touch, slick with sweat and flushed where his chest rises and falls in panting breaths, cheeks similarly highlighted to give him a sickly glow. The room around them is warm, but Leon's shoulders are still trembling where he lies propped against a mound of pillows, jerky, spasming shivers that don't seem to calm no matter what Chris tries. He shushes Leon when he makes another distressed sound, settling the cloth around the back of Leon's neck and reaching for the mug of water on the bedside table.

"Here, baby," he says softly. "Let's drink some water, okay?"

"S-some," Leon slurs hazily, clearly still just as confused as he was the last time Chris tried to talk to him. "Chris, my eyes... everythin's blurry. What's...?"

"I know, baby. Can you open your mouth for me?" Chris prods at Leon's lips with the rim of the mug, prompting them to part. He takes a few good mouthfuls of the cool water before turning his head away with a frown, leaving Chris to sigh and set the cup back down on the bedside table with a dull thump. The movement upsets the pain pills sitting beside it, the closed bottle rattling as it falls to the floor and rolls under the bed. Chris curses softly.

His knees creak with age as he lowers himself from his perch on the mattress, fingers curling in the base of the bedframe so he can peer into the darkness under the bed. Baseball bat, old boxes, baseball bat---ah, and a bottle of acetaminophen way at the back. How the hell did it get so far away?

"Chris?" Leon's voice breaks the silence, wavering slightly. Chris is too busy reaching for the pills to give it much thought, grunting lightly in acknowledgement. The next time he speaks, however, is tremulous; fearful, Chris's hand freezing in place. "Chris? Chris, where...? What's going on?"

"I'm here," he says, loud enough that he hopes Leon can hear, stretching far enough that his fingers can close around the smooth plastic. He sits up fast enough for the blood to leave his head in a rush, Leon's wide eyes glassy with tears when he glances over again. He's struggling to push himself upright, twisting his trembling hands in the sheets, fingers rattling like the leaves of a branch caught in a stiff breeze. He collapses to the bed when he sees Chris looking at him again.

"Chris, I'm not---I don't feel good," he says, strangled syllables melting together in the heat burning through his blood. "I---I can't defend myself, I won't---don' know where we are---"

"It's okay," Chris says tiredly, planting his weight on the mattress and leaning in to cup the side of Leon's face in a hand. He still looks terrified, something in Chris's heart shattering on impact. He tries for a smile. "You're safe here, we're at home, remember?"

A fluttering touch brushes over the back of his hand, Leon's tentative left palm settling atop Chris's despite how hard it's still shaking. "Don't... leave," he says in a small voice, lashes dipping down to touch his cheekbones when Chris brushes a thumb over his eyebrow. "Don't leave me, don't..."

"I won't," Chris says.

[10kiaoi]

Time slip AU (2-8/9)

Time Slip AU (1/9)

[zirethart]

Comfort Character Leon S. Kennedy & style exploration, included the 'low' contrast version and the 'high' contrast version because I kinda liked both of them

[thebisexualmandalorian]

The words “Fuck, Redfield” coming out of Leon’s mouth in a context where neither of them are naked is the first hint Chris has that he might just be well and truly fucked.

This fic is starting great

[vizishereig]

24 with your ship of choice <33 i hope you have a lovely day/night!! :D

this evoked Leon's first time in fall for me, hehe <3

24. “You’re freezing cold.” from this prompt list :)

Scozai has a changing of seasons, but with how dry the surface of the planet is, it can only be boiled down to the cold and warm seasons. The caves protect against both, staying at the same temperature year-round, just like human ones. So, usually, the only people who are affected are the ones who are topside for one reason or another.

Leon hated being topside, in his last years on his home planet. Being in the militant district, drills were run every day. He used to get dry soil in his scales and the cold would make him sluggish, easier to hit. The cold days were the days he was at his worst, with a stiff shoulder that never fully recovered from the tail that had punctured it.

Krauser, of course, would never let up on those days. He’d push and push until Leon was aching with it, feeling joints stiffen up further, scales emanating cold even when they were sheathed. He’d fall into bed shivering, bundling up as much as he could after a shower (which was also cold, as Leon tried his best to get in and out of the shower block as quickly as possible).

Earth, on the other hand, is beautiful when the temperature changes.

The world, which was green a few months ago, is now a mix of golds, reds, and oranges. It’s cold, sure, but it’s not a biting chill. Not yet, at least, but Chris says it’ll get colder soon.

Leon’s favorite time is the afternoon, when the sun is starting to set. Gold rays scatter across the trees and the world looks like it’s on fire. It reminds Leon of Luis, and he’s slowly learning to live with that bittersweet feeling that appears when he thinks of his former partner.

He’s on the porch right now, though, curled up with a thin blanket, eyes scanning the trees. Chris and Claire had rented a cabin for Rose’s Thanksgiving break. It gives both Rose and Leon to experience something new. An added plus, the privacy allows him to be himself. His scales are hidden, but his tail is out, bobbing up and down in his lap.

The porch door opens behind him, but he keeps his eyes on the trees, watching leaves fall when the breeze blows a bit harder, drifting to the ground like fallen embers. As cold as it is right now, he doesn’t think he can equate fall to anything other than fire.

The person settles in the bench next to him, and now is when he spares them a glance. It’s Chris, not that he expected any different (the bench wouldn’t have settled as much as it did when she sat down and Rose is giggly whenever she tries to sneak up on him). The man raises an eyebrow at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s pretty,” Leon says, gaze slipping back to the trees. His tail, unbidden, moves to wrap loosely around Chris’s wrist. He doesn’t move it, even as he feels the warmth through the chitin.

“Your English is getting better. You don’t even sound like you’re overthinking every letter anymore,” Chris teases, and Leon clicks out a few choice words in response to that. The man only laughs, reaching over to bring Leon closer to his side. The man jolts in surprise as he grabs Leon’s hand, making a sympathetic sound at the temperature of them.

“You’re freezing cold, Lee, oh my god,” he says, rubbing out Leon’s hands with his own.

“Yeah, but. It’s pretty,” Leon says again, huffing out a laugh as Chris levels a small glare at him.

“C’mon, inside. Rose wanted hot chocolate anyway,” Chris says, standing up and pulling him up as well. Leon tries to look upset, but fails, also delighted at the prospect of the sugary drink.

His tail moves from Chris’s wrist to loosely circle his ankle, but he doesn’t notice as he’s brought inside, one of Chris’s arms curled around him. Rose is inside, too, quickly letting out a laugh and running forward to cling at Leon’s legs, excited to see him.

He’s warm.

[resident-rats]

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Going undercover had always been rough, Leon never liked it. Only, when Chris had reason to believe a virus was being traded illegally in an underground sex club, maybe Leon had his own reasons as to why he agreed to help.

[aussiepineapple1st]

Hidden Wounds

A/N: This is an idea myself and @sunhatllama on Tumblr had while in a discord voice call. We both decided to write a fic on the same thing and seeing how we do it differently to each other. please go check her out!

Chreon Words: 1966 Contains: Whump, injuries, comfort.

They had done it. Finally able to breathe a sigh of relief as they flew over the city of New York, Leon, Rebecca and Chris all resting in the back of the Osprey.

"I think that's all the vaccine." Chris says aloud for everyone to hear, standing up he then begins to tighten all of the valves, closing them up. He reaches over the canisters and pressed the button to cause the ramp to close. With a whir it closed, the wind rushing passed all of them ceasing.

Leon watched the sight as he sat closest to the cockpit, his left hand cradling his right forearm that rest on his thighs. Feeling a sudden burst of dizziness, Leon gives a few blinks, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Did he just need some sleep? No, this was something else, he never got a sudden wave of head spins when he was tired. Yes he was tired, but he knows his body well enough to know something was up.

Now that all of the adrenaline had finally wore off, Leon could feel the immense aching he had in his body, his right arm and torso especially. He had been throw and rolled around from falling off his bike, as well as squeezed and kicked in a short amount of time. He wouldn't be surprised if his inside felt like they were on the outside. Had he not known about a wound he may have sustained?

"Leon..?" Called Chris from the other side of the Osprey. This caused Leon to turn his head towards the taller man, seeing a specific look on Chris' face that told Leon he was concerned. Chris would usually pick up if something was wrong with Leon before he would pick it up himself. Chris also hadn't seen how rough Arias had been with him while fighting, when Chris found the vaccine.

Leon started to sit up straighter, adjusting himself to answer Chris. The edges of his vision becoming black as his ears rang, all sound becoming quiet and muffled. Falling forwards, Chris was already on the edge of his seat seeing the distance in his boyfriend's eyes. Launching himself forwards he manages to catch Leon's head before it hit the metal ground. "LEE!" Chris called with a panicked tone, Leon's face had become a flushed pale, which was what had given Chris a tip that something was wrong.

Leon's eyes were darting around as he looked to settle on something, anything to focus on. Chris brushed Leon's fringe from his clammy face as he removed his gloves so it wasn't so rough on Leon's skin. Chris unzips Leon's leather jacket to get a better look at what was going on underneath.

A black bruise had appeared on the entire back of Leon's right elbow and bicep, reaching up under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Wincing at the sight Chris lifts his shirt to continue examining Leon, his entire stomach was also bruised. He was probably suffering from a few cracked ribs and there was some definite internal bleeding happening.

"DC! GET US TO THE NEAREST HOSPITAL! NOW!!" Chris frets. Looking back down to Leon in his arms.

"Chris.." Leon said barely above a whisper, his hand reaching up to hold onto Chris' forearm as support. Everything was very quickly going to black, Leon's eyes closing and neck going lax as his hand drops to his chest. He was out.

"Leon?" Chris said his name quietly, not wanting to believe his boyfriend had just fallen limp in his arms. "Leon!" He repeats, wanting an answer from him. "Lee! Open your eyes!" He pleads, a hand gently patting Leon's cheek. "Come on, buddy.. Stay with me!"

Nope, it was useless. Chris gathered Leon's limp body and limbs to hold him close to his chest, he needed to keep him warm until they made it to the hospital. Chris, out of nerves was continuously combing his fingers through Leon's hair, Rebecca had also made her way beside them and lay the blanket that was around her body over Leon. Her medical training coming back to her as she makes sure Leon's pulse was staying at a healthy BPM.

After what seemed like forever to Chris, they arrived on the roof of a hospital. Chris carrying Leon over the canisters and over to a stretcher that was waiting for them as well as a few medical staff. Gently laying his boyfriend on the stretcher, Chris moved Leon's fringe from his eyes one more time before they had started to wheel him inside.

Chris followed, Rebecca close behind Chris as she was there to emotionally support her old friend. He was stopped once inside, not being able to follow Leon and the doctors. "Is he going to be okay?" Chris asked the nurse as she guides him and Rebecca to the private guest waiting area.

"I'm not sure sir, but I will make sure to get an answer for you as soon as I can." She says making sure Rebecca had Chris sorted before she leaves the both of them alone.

"Boss, We need to clear the airspace. DC and I will find you once we've found somewhere to land." Nadia relays through the comms in Chris' left ear.

"Copy.." Chris answers as he flops onto the closest lounge. He couldn't rest though, his shoulders tense as he rests his elbows on his knees. Hands clasped together as he bounced his right leg.

Rebecca makes her way to sit beside Chris, sitting down and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Chris? I'm sure he'll be okay. The doctors know what they're doing and I'm sure they'll take good care of him."

With a quick head turn, Chris looks to Rebecca from the side of his eye before looking back to his hands in front of him. "I know. He just.. Collapsed." His brain was still trying to process everything. Was he really that beaten up when he had left to find the vaccine for Rebecca? He couldn't have stayed to help or they would have lost her, right? No the vaccine would have saved her if she had turned, surely...

"I know. He looked really beat up, but so are you. Maybe you should get some treatment while you're waiting?" She suggest, her hand gently patting his shoulder.

Chris gives a hesitant nod, his eyes trailing to the doors he wasn't allowed past, the last place he saw his boyfriend. "Yeah.. I think it might help with the nerves a bit." He agrees.

"There you go. I should also get myself checked, so we can go together, okay?"

Chris and Rebecca both leave together, getting seen to by the duty doctors to get their wounds sawn and cleaned up. The whole process for the both of them taking 20 minutes before they made their way back over to the waiting room they had been guided into. Chris having let the receptionist down at the front entrance where DC and Nadia could find them after they too had their injuries seen to.

The wait for any information on Leon was torture. Was he okay? Did they get him tot he hospital on time before he bled out internally? Had he crashed on the table? Did they manage to fix him up before anything major happened? Chris was a wreck, sometimes pacing the room before Rebecca would tell him to come and sit back down or offer him a hot tea. She had made him so many at this point he had gone to the toilet twice. Finally a nurse walks into the room and Chris' head turned towards her like a prey animal being alerted to danger.

"Are either of you here for Leon Kennedy?" She asked.

"Yes, we are." Chris says immediately standing up and making his way over to her. "Is he alright? It's been 4 hours." He states with a worried tone.

"Yes, he's perfectly fine. I'm here to take you to his room if you would like? Follow me." And without hesitation Chris follows, Rebecca trailing behind so she could relay what room DC and Nadia's Captain was going to be in. Heading in the elevator to the 3rd floor, the nurse leads them down a couple of hallways until they reach a door with P309 on it.

Inside the room was only Leon's bed, a private room. The silence filled with the hissing of oxygen that entered Leon's nose via small tube hooked over his ears. The beeping of the Blood Oxygen machine attached to his right index finger, as well as the whir of other monitors Leon was connected to through sticky patches on his torso, fill the silence. Leon's right arm was in a sling and resting over his chest, elbow in a small cast to keep it in a bent position. An IV and blood bag was attached to Leon's left inner forearm and top of his left hand. He looked peaceful as Chris approached, standing beside Leon's bed and looking over his Boyfriend's beaten body.

"He sustained a large amount of internal damage, they managed to stop the bleeding, but he still lost a lot of blood so they want him to have at least 2 bags before letting his body try and recover the cells on it's own." The nurse starts to info dump, looking over the couple of pages she had on the clipboard in her hands. "He also has bruising to his spinal cord, liver and right kidney, but those are going to heal up nicely. A broken elbow and bruised Humerus, multiple lacerations to his torso and slight dislocated right shoulder." The nurse takes a breath and gives a nod as she hooks the clipboard to the foot of the bed. "Do you have any questions?"

Chris shakes his head, that was a lot to take in. "Alright, I'll leave you three alone then." The nurse says as she leaves the room.

"I'll also leave. I'll bring DC and Nadia to the waiting room we passed on this floor so we're closer. Take your time and I'll come and check on you in a little bit alright?" Rebecca states as she stands in the doorway of Leon's room. She only received a small nod from Chris who promptly took a chair and sat by Leon's side.

After it was just the two of them in the room, Chris finally speaks up. "What the hell happened to you while I was gone?" They had been split up a couple of times during this Op, but he wouldn't have thought Leon faired this poorly.

"Sorry..." Croaked Leon's voice quietly, causing Chris to turn his head up to Leon's face. "I was being reckless."

Chris felt a rush of relief flow through his body as Leon continued to speak, reaching to grab Leon's left hand, gentle not to disturb the cannula in the top of Leon's hand. Standing to his feet, Chris leans in and pressed a gentle kiss to Leon's lips. Once pulling away he stayed close, resting his forehead against Leon's. "You can't be reckless in our line or work. I could have lost you."

"I know.. I'm sorry." Leon apologised, his eyes closed, basking in the love and affection he was receiving from his boyfriend. "I'm just going through a rough patch right now." Leon admits.

"We can talk about it if you want? I don't have anything I need to do right now, I can do it later." Chris admits pressing once more kiss to Leon's lips before he sits back down in the chair he had placed beside the bed.

"Yeah.. that would be nice.." Leon smiles slightly, tears forming along his lower eye lids, giving Chris' hand a gentle squeeze.

🏷️: @greywardensaywhat @maehemthemisfit @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders @sunhatllama

[the-babbering-dabber]

re chreon fan base I summon thee from the depths of your grave

🕯️ 🕯

🕯 🕯

🕯 🕯

🕯️ 🕯️

🕯 🕯

🕯 🕯

🕯️ 🕯

ok I'll looking for fic recs of a specific vibe:

I'm hoping for something that focuses on their (specifically Leons but both is good too) healing journey. can be early on, midway, or like in retirement.

but something that shows healing as a progress and love throughout that doesn't fix it immediately and completely but progress and things getting better. maybe there are some bad days, maybe some good day. I just want that vibe

[solarmidnight]

Chreon Fic Rec List!

As promised, here is my Chreon fic rec list. Please leave a comment and kudos to show these authors some love!

If you are a fanfic author and find your fic on this list and you'd like it removed, please message me and I will remove it immediately.

Please make sure to read the tags for each fic for warnings/triggers.

Be My Remedy by tirsynni (8K)

When Leon agrees to do a favor for Chris, he should have expected everything to go to hell. At least this time he isn't alone when the mission is done.

Persona Non Grata by Yuu_chi (26k)

A no strings attached arrangement with the love of your life seems like a good idea right up until you realize he's in love with somebody else.

you don't fare well without me by realpoutydadsurvives (23k)

Leon shuddered a breath out of his frozen lungs and asked numbly, “Why do you hate me?” There was a quiet more invasive than the deadly silence of the world beyond the walls protecting them and Leon hated himself for being so stupid— stupid fucking Kennedy saying shit he wasn’t supposed to say— fumbling for a way to cover up his fuck up, when Chris’s low voice broke the silence, saying, “I don’t hate you, Leon. I never have.” “Liar,” Leon accused softly into the darkness of their warm refuge. “You’re a f-fucking liar.”

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) by fonulyn (note: past relationship Piers/Leon) (34k)

In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. “Leon, I…” Chris started, suddenly forgetting every single word he’d prepared. “Piers. He…” he trailed off, and risked a glance at Leon, who was standing there like a statue. It was like he wasn’t even breathing, with the way he was staring at Chris. “He saved my life. He saved Sherry. And he saved Jake. Hell, he probably saved the whole world, but he—” “Don’t.” - Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway.

Chris by Any Other Name by leftid (30k)

“Christopher Adam Redfield,” the rookie said, admonishingly. “You clean up your mess this instant.” “Who?” was Chris’ reply. ———————— Leon Scott Kennedy takes pity on Christopher ‘No-Middle-Name’ Redfield, and spends the next several years they know each other trying to find one. Technically it’s a series of 26 drabbles spanning from RE1 to RE8. A small line of plot managed to sneak into this episodic series.

Cocksucker by r3zuri (note: also features Krauser/Leon) (12k)

When Leon is ten, he tells his parents that girls are gross and he’s never getting married. They tell him he’ll change his mind when he’s older.

Collide by NovelNormandy (8k)

“Oops,” Chris says and Leon huffs a surprised laugh, now using his grip on Chris’s arm and the back of his neck to help hold his weight. “Sorry.” Leon shrugs, looking back at him. “It’s from IKEA.” “So what do I owe you, like 38 bucks?” Leon adjusts his hold on Chris, wrapping his legs firmly around the other man’s hips. “Can think of another way you can get me back.”

Welcome Back by nanaa127 (5k)

After an extended mission, Leon unexpectedly shows up at a conference Chris is attending. Chris is happy to see him. Very, very happy.

New Rookie by leonsknife (6K)

There's a new rookie at the R.P.D. and he's caught Chris' attention.

who am i after tasting you? by chthonicheart (38K)

“I fear the entire floor might have heard us last night,” Chris starts. Leon’s ears start ringing. What? “Yeah, I know. The server told me to tell you he gives us his ‘sincerest congratulations.’” “Christ,” Leon mutters, mostly to himself. “If only this complimentary breakfast came with complimentary mimosas.” 

One Tomorrow at a Time by Requiem (37K)

During the fight with Arias, Leon gets infected and turns into a B.O.W. Chris is not giving up on him that easily.

as i drown in irresistible love by FireandLightning (5K)

It's a late night at the BSAA offices when Chris receives a text from Leon containing a photo of Leon himself next to... Chris can get very, very jealous of people flirting with Leon sometimes. Leon knows just how to turn that jealousy to his advantage, especially for when he wants to get literally demolished and punished suitably by Chris Redfield.

[desired-misery]

Unnamed Leon x Chris Fic

...

“Slipped right between my body armor and any bones,” Chris explains. “As far as bullets go, it’s a glancing hit.”

“Obviously it didn’t hit anything vital; you probably have six inches of muscle protecting you under your uniform,” Leon replies, getting Chris to laugh again. Chris hasn’t ever laughed this easily with someone he barely knows.  

“I did have to spend a whole month getting that muscle back once I was cleared to return to the gym,” Chris says, still smiling.

“I appreciate the work you’ve put in,” Leon says, back to admiring. Chris's blush returns. Leon chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Do you blush this much every time someone compliments you?”

“People don’t actually compliment me that often,” Chris says, even more embarrassed. It happens sometimes, but most of the time it isn’t coming from a place of actual physical attraction— and if it’s a woman saying it, Chris doesn’t really care.

 Leon’s lips part in surprise. “There’s no way, you gotta be lying.”

“Nope,” Chris says. “I’m not really… well, I work a lot.”

“Are the people you work with blind?” Leon asks, incredulous.

“They’re probably not gay,” Chris replies with dry sarcasm. He works with a lot of men.

 Leon laughs, loud and longer than he has all night. “Fuck, I forget that some people aren’t into men. God— how can’t you be, when there are men like you walking the earth among us?”

...