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The waves softly foam against Leon’s ankles. He has no intention of entering the ocean just yet, opting to enjoy the quiet breeze and coolness of the water on his feet against the hot sand for a moment. His short fringe is nearly sticking to his forehead, and he swipes it away with an irritated huff, turning to stare at Chris, who lays underneath their umbrella, napping on top of a towel.
Chris’s head raises, and Leon can already gamble that he’s focused on Leon more than his sandcastle, giving Leon a light whistle.
“You know, I’m starting to think we should try to coincidentally end up on missions in hot countries together.” Chris announces.
Leon doesn’t give a response. It’s typical of mine to, whenever there isn’t much tension to ease down with a stupid liner he thinks up to cope for himself. He knows Chris isn’t bothered by this. Much of it has gotten worse over the years of them knowing each other, especially after Leon’s encounters in Spain, leaving him panicking at the idea of any clinical examination or medical personnel.
He watches Chris reposition himself, now on his side to continuously look at Leon. The bigger man waves him off, as if to tell him to “carry on” as usual. Compared to their first meetings of each other, through emails and hushed interactions in Europe whenever Leon was moved around and Chris’s research and vendetta against Umbrella would tug them together, their attitudes on life have changed a lot. At one point Chris’s rage overcame himself, becoming an unbearable person for Leon to look towards when Leon couldn’t even face the mirror after everything he’s done, and happened to him.
It took months since Chris’s return from Africa, along with the mellowing of his attitude and Leon’s increased socialization with the aid of alcohol that he started having to clutch whenever he thought too hard. Here they are now, lounging against an unknown beach Chris found himself during one of his missions in the B.S.A.A., elbowed between two harsh and ragged cliffs that if Leon studied too hard, would look like the shadows he tries hiding from in the houses of dead villagers. Even the water now reminds him of it, how truly far an escape can be if he’s surrounded now with no boat, only the unknown caging around him with people worth caring for but forced to abandon.
Leon barely notices how a crab crawls over his feet, hopping towards the other side of him and moving further away. He only bends down to grab a small handful of saltwater, watching it drain within the cracks of his cupped hands. He tries to hold the water again, tightening his hands to try securing the water more, and turns to toss it at the direction of Chris.
Chris scoffs, flipping him off as he sits up. “Geez, can’t a guy get romantic?”
“Prove to me you punched a boulder and I might allow it.” Leon snips back. He walks away from the shore, walking towards their small setup to lay down on his own towel, set next to Chris and his.
Immediately, Chris has his hands on Leon’s shoulders, easily forcing the blonde to turn on his side. Leon feels him brush his hands over his shoulder blades, outlining scars.
“Did you forget to put sunscreen on again?”
Leon sighs, moving his back closer to the man, a signal to scratch lightly. “Yeah. You mind?”
Chris rakes his nails in a zigzag pattern around his shoulder areas, up and down and around in circles. He hums to himself a familiar rock song, something that Leon can recognize by the melody, repeated enough times in mutual car rides as he lets Chris be in charge of the music.
“Yeah, I’ll help you out.” Chris pulls away. Leon feels a chill from the loss of contact, despite the heat that the air carries. He knew if he stood out there any longer his skin would have burned and scabbed up around certain scars. He used to wear shirts whenever they went out to something like the gym or swimming until Chris forced it off of him.
Thinking back on it, Leon’s happy he did. His scars weren’t the worst thing in the world like he would find it to be on lonely days. That his only purpose was to obtain them and complete whatever others asked before thinking of his own bodily autonomy.
He feels the cold cream lather on his back, and he hisses out.
“Don’t whine about it, Leon. I’m surprised you’re not used to it now,” Chris teases. He applies extra over his shoulders, leading up his nape and then to the lower back. He trails up Leon’s spine in an effort to tickle him, which never works. “How much time do you have left for this break?”
Leon manages to shrug. His mood takes a downturn at the mention of the topic he wanted to avoid. “It..depends. I scheduled a week off but, realistically they can order me in if they have to.”
“If they want to.” Chris corrects him.
Leon moves in the middle of Chris’s ministrations, turning to face him. “You word it like you have a voice of your own in the B.S.A.A.”
“Because I do. They respect me a little at least, Leon. How many times are we going to have this same argument?”
“As many times as you word it like I’m a victim of my circumstances.”
“Enjoy the damn beach, Kennedy.” Chris finally snaps, losing his patience.
Go figure, Leon thinks to himself. He still can manage to piss off Redfield even after the man is mellowed out after all his revenge is done and over with. Achieving an end goal really only does so much to fix one’s self. If it doesn’t fix Chris, there’s no point in even having an end goal for himself beyond enjoying whatever time he has left with the people that make him feel something.
The silence fills with the pleasant ocean meeting the sand. Leon manages to hear a bird preach over them, flying above maybe with its own family in tow. A family it can see whenever it wants without issue. Sherry.
He watches Chris sit up, a stormy expression on his face. Leon wants to reach out, to tell him to wait, but he lays like he’s waiting for the enemy to move first, to see what Chris will do now so he can calculate how to react.
Leon waits. Chris looks to slow his breathing on purpose, before looking at him with an expression Leon doesn’t want to name. His eyes look at Leon beyond his face, and he feels himself fluster.
“..If they call you in while I’m here, I’ll tag along.”
Leon’s eyes go wide in shock, and he lets out a awkward laugh. “Confidential stuff, Chris. You can’t.”
“Oh, I will. You know, people call you the golden boy of the U.S. government, yet do you hear how I’m the same for the B.S.A.A.? I’m sure I can swagger a word or two, be a good citizen for my country for once.” Chris flings himself back down, a lot closer to Leon than before.
“And if they don’t allow it?” Leon asks. Despite the ridiculousness and his loner-streak, he does have a genuine want in him to finally be with someone on a mission, someone like Chris.
“Oh well, looks like we got the same intel. What a shocker within the bioterrorism world.”
Leon shakes his head, not willing to say much else in the topic. If it happens, it happens. He can’t stop it anyways. And speaking of being possibly called in..
“Where did you put my phone?”
Chris smiles. “Left it in the car with mine before we hiked the way here.”
Leon doesn’t attempt to act surprised or even upset. He doesn’t smile either, as to try not to encourage this sort of mischievous behavior from Chris. “You must be so sure things will be okay.”
“The B.S.A.A. is always filled with plenty of people willing to fight a good cause. I may be notable but there are others that work just as hard as I do on the average.”
“Don’t you feel lonely, though?” Leon sighs, touching Chris’s chest to distract himself, “How many people look up to you for the answers? That you’re going to be the hero because somehow you survived the worst once even though you doubt you can do it all over again?”
“I won’t lie to you and say no, Leon.” Chris says after a minute of silence. He doesn’t follow up.
“What makes it easier for you compared to me then?” Leon frowns. His hand on the other man’s chest clenched itself at the open question.
“Because whenever I feel lonely, I remember you. You don’t make this entire journey feel lonely.”
Leon closes his eyes, and breathes. He mentally can’t assess that statement without losing a bit of his own control. He focuses on hearing the breeze instead, and leans to rest his head on Chris as the only response back. He can’t verbalize the emotions that rest in his ribs and organs that eerily ache like the parasites that latched into the fibers of his being, but knowing he has a choice in showing them or not means he’s still in control. He knows what they both have is real, in some way or level between the two, and that Chris won’t put him in danger or make him feel unsafe for knowing.
He feels Chris leave their spot together, and Leon curls in on himself, refusing to open his eyes and ruin his own peace for a little longer. Chris clearly didn’t agree with Leon’s sentiment, as Leon feels the man drag his arms upward, forcing Leon to sit up with a yelp.
“Come on.” Chris tugs the man up, who stumbles at the first step but quickly recovers himself by the third, letting Chris lead the way towards the water with his hand holding Leon’s wrist.
Leon looks at the shore. The sun already started to settle. Oranges reflected on the water, turning them into a rich dark turquoise over the sky blues that Chris would say matched his eyes. His feet make contact first, and then the water rises to his ankles, and then calves the further Chris leads the both of them into the ocean, his grip unwavering. Leon doesn’t struggle against it, or try to let himself pull away from him, and they finally stop when the water reaches their waistlines.
Chris lets go of Leon to splash some water on himself. Leon watches the water dripping down him reflect the sun, traveling down his body, and he turns partially away and copies the action to regain himself. He feels Chris staring at him, noting the smile by the corner of his eye, and Leon tries to hide his embarrassment by splashing Chris with the water. Leon laughs, too loudly for himself at least, at Chris hissing at the cold water hitting his face and shoulders. His short hair is flat and nearly black from the ocean, and still it’s the one thing between them that shows the final glow of the sky before it sets.
Water splashes on his own face, and Leon gasps at the retaliation, muttering a curse at the shiver that rakes his body. The first purple and illuminating blue from the moon paints the sky, and Chris sees Leon’s own hair is the first thing that shows the moon is truly out, bright and iridescent. Leon takes the fact that Chris is too busy staring to tackle him into the water.
They rise out of the sea, sputtering salt and water in coughs and snorts as they push one another, enjoying the bits of time they have left in the beach. A matter of time before they both become exhausted, physically and mentally, to trek back towards the car and back to their rental, and eventually back to themselves without each other. Or maybe after this, when they reach the car and Leon drives them back while Chris sleeps first on the ride, he rings up Hunnigan, and asks for another week off. Maybe he will be the one to tag along in Chris’s next mission instead.