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So...Can I take you out sometime?

Summary:

Agent Kennedy is a smartass, so he reopens fresh stitches.

Notes:

Wrote a little something. Do you guys like it?

Work Text:

"Agent Kennedy, you need to stop moving." Your voice cut through, quite displeased by his constant fidgeting. You had patched him up merely two days ago; he had seventeen stitches across his abdomen, fresh bandaging and a lecture he could probably recite word for word by now.

Avoid strain. No sudden movement. Rest for at least forty-eight hours.

Simple instructions.

Instructions Leon Kennedy had apparently treated as optional.

Leon was not foreign to the concept of stitches and so you were sure there would be no complications this time as well. Lo and behold, 'I was bored so I went to the camp' which led to your current predicament. 

“Says the lady currently driving a needle through my skin,” he muttered with a strained groan, finally leaning back against the operating chair. 

"You were the one who denied local anaesthesia. If you want I could still-" You were cut off by him almost immediately. "I don't need local ana-thing for 5 stitches" He said as if you had offended him by even suggesting it.

Men.

"Then don't move again. I mean it." Sternly, this time. 

"You got it doc."

Keeping his word, he stopped moving, the only sign that he was not under an anaesthetic being the faces he was making every time the needle went through. The stitching, being superficial, was done relatively fast. You moved away and discarded your gloves. 

"I'm writing you up on a strict recovery leave for the next two weeks" , you said flatly as you reached for the clipboard resting on the counter nearby.

Leon’s head snapped up so fast you almost feared he had torn another stitch. "Oh, come on, doc, don't do this to me. Hell, I'm pretty sure you're not even allowed to do that."

“Doctor’s authority overrides field assignment if an operative is deemed medically unfit for active duty,” you recited. “Would you like me to continue, or have you memorised this lecture too?”

Leon stared at you for a long second before letting out a quiet sigh through his nose.

“That’s low.”

“What’s low is reopening your stitches because you got bored.” Moving to your desk and sitting down, you picked up his file.

“In my defence, it wasn’t entirely my fault.”

You finally glanced at him, unimpressed. “You voluntarily went to a training camp two days after abdominal sutures.”

“They needed me there!” He replied quick on his feet. 

"You told me you went because you were bored." Another flat look.

A beat of silence "Well, I was bored and they needed help with the rookies."

"Leon, we are not arguing about this. You need rest. As your doctor its my responsibility to make sure you stay in good health and shape" You set the clipboard down on the desk with a sharp tap, turning back to face him.

He slumped back onto the operating chair with a groan. "Fine. You're the boss. I'll sit at home and do nothing. Rot basically. Cause that's what u want me to do. Rot."

"Leon."

"No no. Do as you please. Don't let my misery bother you."

"Agent Kennedy."

That finally got his attention.

Barely.

He dragged a hand down his face before peering at you through brown-blond strands falling over tired blue eyes. “You know, people usually buy me dinner before threatening my entire lifestyle.”

You crossed your arms. “People usually don't reopen stitches out of boredom.” 

A soft smile took home on his face all the while looking like he was seconds away from falling asleep. Cute. Adorable even. The small voice in your head even urged you to run ur fingers through his hair. How unprofessional, you scolded yourself mentally.  

“You’re exhausted,” you said, gentler this time.

“I’m functioning.”

“You were limping when you came in.”

“Hey now you're just being dramatic.” 

How stubborn can someone possibly be, level Leon Scott Kennedy. You exhaled slowly through your nose, fighting the urge to smile. Fighting and losing, apparently, because his eyes narrowed the second he caught it.

“There it is,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“That thing.”

You frowned. “Very descriptive.”

“The smile.” He gestured vaguely toward your face. “You try not to do it around me.”

Your heartbeat performed an unhelpful little backflip.

“That is objectively untrue.” Quick to defend yourself and only receiving a "mmhmm" from his end.

"FYI, I'm very professional, I do not laugh and giggle with any of the government agents I'm assigned to. Ever." You said trying to gain some of the ground back for it to all be yeeted out the window when leon dramatically clutches his chest.

"Agents. There are multiple? You're telling me I'm not the only one?" 

You roll your eyes and get up to wash the tools you used. Distracting. Or at least trying your best to distract yourself. That was until Leon spoke up again.

"I think you tolerate me quite professionally.” His voice dipped lower, softer around the edges. “I think the smiling part’s separate.” And thank god you were'nt facing him cause he would have totally caught onto how warm that sentence just made you.

"You're avoiding the real topic." You said trying to go back to medical leaves.

"You're deflecting." God did he ever stop, or was he on a mission to break his poor doctor's composure today?

Nope. Not today.

"You need sleep." You said placing the washed stuff back where it belongs

"Cruel" Came a quick reply

"And at least two weeks off duty."

"Crueler."

With that, you turned back only to see him staring at the ceiling as if he had been sentenced to death. You cleared your throat and sat back down at your desk, flipping through his file in an attempt to regain some level of professionalism. “Your vitals are stable for now. But if those stitches reopen again, you’ll need another full closure.”

“Sounds romantic.” You chose to ignore that one.

“You’ll need to come back in a week so I can remove the stitches.”

“A whole week without seeing me?” he mused. “How tragic.”

“You say that like you don’t appear here every three business days.”

“That’s unfair.” To which I replied, "hardly," before standing up and making my way to his other reports to add them into the file as well.

Another silence settled between you. 

Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that made you aware of stupid things.

Like the fact Leon’s voice always sounded rougher when he was tired.

Or how he watched you when he thought you weren’t looking.

Or how unfairly good-looking someone had no business being while half-drugged on painkillers. You could feel his gaze lingering again. It made concentrating nearly impossible.

“Why do you do that?” he asked suddenly.

You looked up. “Do what?”

“Act like you don’t like me.”

You nearly dropped the clipboard.

“I never said I didn’t like you.”

“You don’t have to.” His smile turned faintly crooked. “You get all professional whenever things stop being about medical stuff.”

“That is generally how being a doctor works.”

“Mm. See? There it is again.”

You set the clipboard down with perhaps slightly more force than necessary. “You are reading too much into things.”

“Occupational hazard.”

Before you could respond, Leon shifted forward in the chair with a quiet grunt. Immediately, your expression sharpened. “What did I just say about moving?”

“I dropped my phone!”

You are quick to pick it up and hand it to him. And as if on cue, it rang loudly in his hand.

Leon glanced at the screen and groaned dramatically. “Great. Hunnigan.”

“Answer it.”

“She’s gonna yell at me.”

“You deserve it.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before answering anyway. “Hey.”

You busied yourself backl with his file while he spoke.

Or rather, while he got scolded.

“Yes, I’m at medical.”

Pause.

“No, I’m fine.”

Longer pause.

“I said I’m fine.”

You heard a faint muffled voice and had to fight down a smile.

Leon pointed accusingly toward you while talking into the phone. “See? This is workplace bullying. You and her. You both are teaming up against me.”

You snorted quietly.

Apparently, that was audible enough because Hunnigan’s voice sharpened through the receiver.

Leon sighed heavily. “Okay, okay. Yes ma’am.”

Another pause.

Then his expression shifted slightly.

Subtler.

Softer.

His eyes flicked toward you briefly before he looked away again.

“...No,” he said after a moment. “Not yet.”

Your brows furrowed slightly.

Not yet?

Hunnigan must have said something else because Leon suddenly rubbed his face with his free hand.

“You are literally making this worse.”

Now you were curious.

Very curious.

A beat later, he hung up and tossed the phone onto his lap.

You crossed your arms. “Problems?”

"Aren't there always?...You know what I've realised, doc?" I looked at him, confused, "What have you realised?"

“I like being here.”

You blinked. “In medical?”

“In your office.”

Your heart stumbled traitorously. Was he smooth-talking right now?

“That might genuinely be the saddest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I’m serious.”

You looked at him carefully.

He looked exhausted still. Pale under the fluorescent lights. Hair falling into tired eyes. Stubbornness practically radiated off him in waves.

But underneath all of that was something else.

Ease. Like this was one of the few places where he could unclench for a minute.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

The rain outside had softened into a steady rhythm against the windows. Somewhere farther down the hall, footsteps passed and faded again. 

Leon Kennedy looked unfairly pretty while exhausted.

"So...I've got a question for you", Leon spoke up, breaking the quiet. "Sure. What is it?" You noticed the slight shift in posture. The hesitation. The way his gaze flicked away for half a second before returning to yours.

“I was wondering...” He cleared his throat lightly. “If maybe you’d want to get dinner sometime.”

Your brain stopped functioning.

Completely.

You stared at him.

Leon immediately grimaced. “Wow. That bad, huh?”

“What?”

“The silence. Usually not a great sign.”

“No, I just…” You blinked rapidly. “You’re asking me out?”

"Well, I was trying to.” A faint flush touched the tips of his ears. “Kinda crashing and burning now.”

“You’re serious?” you said.

You folded your arms again mostly to hide the fact your hands suddenly had nowhere sensible to go. “Agent Kennedy, are you aware that there are probably regulations about this?”

“Probably.”

“And you didn’t even hesitate?”

“I hesitated for like six months.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Six months!?”

“Listen,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m not exactly great at this anymore.”

The honesty in that statement hit unexpectedly hard.

Not self-pitying.

Just truthful.

Careful.

Like someone testing whether the ground beneath them would hold.

“You could’ve asked someone else,” you pointed out softly.

He looked at you for a long moment.

Then, quieter than before, “Didn’t want someone else.”

The room went still. Outside, thunder rolled somewhere far in the distance.

Leon leaned back again, clearly deciding he’d already embarrassed himself enough for one evening. “Anyway. You can say no. I figured I’d ask before you banished me to house arrest.”

"Wh-I...well..uhh." Words and thoughts had completely escaped you because this was genuinely the last thing you thought would happen.

"Hey its ok, you know? It's fine. I'm a big boy, I can take rejections."

You shook your head, trying desperately to ignore the stupid fluttering in your chest. “Leon.”

His expression softened slightly at the sound of his name.

“I’m serious” he said quietly.

"Well...You are going to recover first." And upon hearing that, he visibly perked up. As if you had just given a golden retriever its favourite treat. And god did the sudden, wide-eyed hopefulness look adorable on him.

"...and after?" He asked carefully

You tried to maintain professionalism.

You truly did. But the small smile found your face anyways. "After...maybe dinner."

Leon stared for exactly one second before visibly relaxing with a smile as he looked at you.

“There it is again,” he said softly.

You frowned slightly. “What?”

“That smile.”