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swampofiniquity · 4 years

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Warning Signs (Leon Kennedy x Reader

Part Two of Point / Counterpoint

Rated: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2,088

Cross-posted from AO3

Summary: Leon calls you for a favor and your night devolves from there.

Part One

You hated driving through D.C.

It was always a nightmare of clueless tourists, reckless locals that had lost their regard for personal safety, and insane taxi driver’s that you swore must have all been taught by the same drunk asshole of a driver’s ed instructor. The lights never went your way, half the time a block or whole street would be closed for a parade or movie shoot or some other inconvenience. A couple of years of living in the city had taught you two things.

One - America needed to invest more in public transportation. And two - never try to drive anywhere in rush hour traffic.

The last of which meant Leon Kennedy owed you big time.

If any other human being had asked you to pick them up between the hours three and seven pm, you’d have laughed and given them directions to the nearest Metro station. People who you would otherwise not think twice about taking a bullet for either needed to wait until a more reasonable traffic hour, or find alternate transportation. But Leon was different.

While technically your superior at the DSO, he was also your best friend and a man that so rarely asked for help that his phone call asking you to come pick him up from the White House was practically the equivalent of spotting a unicorn running through the National Mall.

He had just gotten back from nearly two weeks of grueling back-to-back international peace summits with the president and apparently the pair had decided to celebrate their success by cracking open a bottle of executive bourbon. Now Leon needed someone with a high enough security clearance to come pick his exhausted, drunk ass up and take it the fuck home. You had the lucky distinction of being the first person he called.

And yeah, you kinda also owed him for watching your cat last time you had an out of country assignment. So, you hopped in the car, fully prepared to curse and rage your way through an infuriating hour or so of whiteknuckle fun.

Mercifully, Leon was waiting for you outside when you finally made it through the security gate. He was wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses you had never seen before, despite the sun having gone down at least an hour ago, and was leaning crookedly up against a wall like he was fighting gravity on a sinking ship. It was somehow both alarming and utterly hilarious. You couldn’t remember the last time you'd ever seen him so out of sorts and had to fight the urge to document the moment for posterity. Or blackmail.

You rolled the window down as you pulled up beside him. "Hey sailor," you sang, as he struggled to push himself upright. "Need a ride?"

"Why am I already regretting this?" Leon grumbled, his scratchy voice about a whole octave lower than normal. Despite clearly being wasted he managed to shove himself and his duffel bag into your car without incident.

"Oh please, you missed me and you know it." You flashed him a cheeky grin, that he subtly returned.

"That’s presumptuous." He fumbled with the seat-belt for a moment before finally managing to get the latch to click.

You leaned across the console and pinched the meat of his arm through his jacket in retaliation, before pulling him into the closest approximation of a hug you could manage with the seat-belt pulling you back. It had been more than a month since you'd been this close to the man and seeing him again, alive and whole, made your chest clench unexpectedly.

Leon hummed and returned the embrace, burying his face in your hair. He was so warm, but a shiver still went up your spine as you felt his breath on your neck. "Good to see you too, gorgeous."

It was something he had always called you, a leftover from the early days of your relationship when Leon tried relentlessly and futilely to seduce you into bed with him. Something you had heard more than enough times to render it practically meaningless. And normally, it wouldn't affect you in the slightest, but the fact that you were in his arms and could feel his words as clearly as you could hear them, made the pet name seem so much more intimate.

You cleared your throat and pulled back, praying you didn't come off as awkward as you suddenly felt. "Yeah, well uh good… let's get you home then."

_________________________________________________________

A dark, humid night had long since set in by the time you pulled up to Leon’s building just outside of the main metropolitan area and only about a ten minute walk from your own apartment. After a very graceful and coordinated trek up the three flights of stairs to his door, you used your key and let yourself in, stepping aside for Leon and his duffel bag to slink past.

“You want me to order you some food or something? That new pizza place down the street finally opened up while you were gone.” You flipped on his living room light just in time to see Leon go limp and flop face down on his couch.

He let out a dramatic groan and went still.

“You dead?” You asked, fighting back a smile. He hadn’t even bothered to kick his boots off, opting instead to rest them on a throw pillow like an animal. “After all that effort to pick you up across town and bring you back here...”

“Mmmmphm,” he grumbled into the cushion before turning his head so you could actually understand him. “Yeah, very dead, sorry.”

“What am I going to tell your boyfriend, the president?” You bent down and removed his shoes, tossing them vaguely towards the door before lifting his legs and taking a seat beneath them.

There was a lot of very dignified flailing and wriggling as Leon turned himself over onto his back to level a glare up at you. “Not boyfriends.”

This was one of the reasons why you loved drunk Leon. Normally, he’d barely acknowledge your stupid jokes and attempts at teasing, but give the man a few too many drinks and he became the perfect target for a little friendly ribbing. You couldn’t help yourself. “You’re right, I forgot he’s married. So that’d make you his side piece.”

A pillow grazed the top of your head as it soared past you. “Rude.”

“Sorry, work wife?”

Another pillow, this one aimed a little better, hit you in the shoulder and bounced off onto the floor. You laughed. “Hey, just because he is never going to leave her for you doesn’t mean you can just throw things at me!”

“I’m out of pillows anyway,” Leon responded. Then he raised one of the socked feet on your lap up, nearly touching your nose. You squealed and grabbed his ankle, trying to save your face, but despite your efforts you still caught a whiff of the not-so-pleasant aroma of a foot that had spent most of the day stuck in a boot during international travel.

“That is so gross.” You glared at his smirking face.

While you were distracted, Leon snuck his other foot up and managed to gently caress your cheek. Squealing again, you jerked away. “Oh I’m going to make you for real dead, Kennedy!”

He laughed as you slipped out from under his legs and snatched one the pillows he had thrown at you off the floor. You stood over him, just out of his reach. “Apologize,” you demanded, pillow raised threateningly.

“Ha, you first.” Leon sat up, folding his arms across his chest.

You cocked your arm back and brought the pillow down hard, aiming to hit him in the stomach, but even drunk Leon was too fast. He caught the pillow and jerked it back, bringing you toppling down onto his lap. At the last second, you managed to brace your hand on the back of the couch to avoid knocking foreheads.

“Careful now.” Two strong hands latched onto your hips to still your squirming as you tried to right yourself. “Watch your knees down there.”

Your skin felt flushed as you caught his meaning. “Sorry,” you muttered, feeling embarrassed around him in a way you hadn’t in years. You gingerly adjusted your knees that were dangerously close to his crotch and moved so they were on either side of his thighs.

And boy was that position just so much worse. You resisted the urge to hide your hot face in his neck. Your brain was working overtime, rationalizing that the only reason you were this affected by straddling your best friend had to be the current dry spell plaguing your love life. That was the only plausible explanation for the sudden awareness of all the places Leon’s body was in contact with your own.

“That’s better,” he said quietly, warm hands still firm on your hips.

The air suddenly felt heavy, thick like you were trapped under a woolen blanket in the summertime. You could practically hear the alarm bells going off. This was dangerous territory.

Fighting back panic, you lifted your head up to face him, fully intending to crack another stupid joke or make fun of him, anything to ease the tension that had fallen. But the look in his eyes made the words stick to your tongue like a carpet tack.

Leon slowly gathered a lock of your hair that had fallen into your face and tucked it behind your ear. His hand lingered on your neck. “Hey there.”

“Hi” you breathed, heart beating double time in your chest. You were frozen, completely unable to move even if you had wanted to.

“You’re so soft,” Leon’s voice rumbled out, as he ever so gently ran his hand across your neck and under your chin, the calluses on his fingers catching on your skin like fine grain sandpaper. Goosebumps erupted at his touch and you bit back a contented sigh.

“T-thanks,” you muttered, closing your eyes and tilting your head back as you let him explore your skin. It felt so good being touched so tenderly, so affectionately, that it didn’t matter who was behind it.

A gentle yet firm hand on the back of your neck brought you closer, the fingers tightening as Leon pressed his lips against yours. You shuddered, your body wound so tightly that you were afraid you’d snap at any moment. This was a bad idea for more reasons than you could count, but you were finding it impossible to care in the moment.

It wasn’t until the kiss deepened, when you parted your lips and tasted the bourbon on Leon’s tongue that you came to your senses. He was drunk and you were sober. What the hell was wrong with you?

You scrambled off his lap, feeling your stomach churn with shame and embarrassment. “Oh god.”

Your sudden movement must have jolted Leon back to some semblance of normal as well because he cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “I’m a drunken asshole. I am so sorry. ”

“No, I shouldn’t have-”

“But it was clearly my-”

You both started and trailed off, stewing for a long moment in your collective chagrin. Neither of you had a protocol for accidentally making out with your best friend. The only sound in the room was the distant droning of cicadas in the humid night outside before you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Um maybe we forget this happened?” Your voice sounded so small to your own ears.

Leon perked up. “Yes, good. Nothing to talk about because it never happened.”

You nodded enthusiastically, trying not to let how quickly he latched onto the idea sting. You recommended it for fuck’s sake. “Exactly.”

Leon let out a huge breath and slumped back into the couch. “I either need another drink or to sleep for ten years. Or both.”

“Well, best of luck with that. I’m going to head out.” You made a show of patting your pockets for your car keys, still feeling horribly awkward.

Leon frowned, but otherwise didn’t move from his prone position. “Okay. Wanna catch lunch tomorrow?” He asked, finishing the question around a yawn.

“Yeah, call me.” Normally you would have hugged him or kissed his cheek, but the thought of getting in his personal space again made your skin feel too tight, so you settled on a halfhearted wave. “Goodnight, Leon.”

“Night gorgeous.”

You spent the whole ride home fighting the stupid grin that kept trying to creep onto your face.

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