𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀 —-

Even if Chris was struggling to shove down the desire that was clearly building for the rookie so that he could keep things professional, he didn't want to traumatize him—and it had nothing to do with their job and more to do with Chris' inappropriate thoughts about him, a part of him wanting to protect him. He tried to tell himself it was the same way he wanted to protect Jill and the rest of his S.T.A.R.S. counterparts, but he knew that would be lying to himself.

the explanation is fair enough, at least if one were to not to dig too deep. surely there were better ways to train a rookie cop, one that did not involve s.t.a.r.s.' confidential operations, which had little to no margin for error. and leon also knows that this is quite unprecedented, from what he heard in the past couple of months, getting to know more people in rpd and s.t.a.r.s. however, all of those facts aside, with chris redfield sitting in front of him — he decides there is no need to poke holes into the logic that led to this. the unanswered question lies: chris surely picked up on this as well. from everything leon knows about him, and how good he is at his job, this is hardly a mystery. then why has he still accepted it? the most rational conclusion is that he is too nice to turn him down, not when leon is genuinely appreciative and looking forward to this opportunity. and that conclusion makes it more difficult to focus, that treacherous feeling at the bottom of his stomach returning at full force. the other's words prove once again how courteous he is, and leon is reminded of how much he... likes him. he chides himself for going into that territory again when he has to be professional about this. a hand reaches out to take another sip of his coffee, in an attempt to ground himself. "thank you, again - for accepting it." the words are earnest, the ends of his ears still a tinge of red, yet he continues to pay utmost attention. understanding the reasons why they need to make sure information doesn't leak, so that people don't start panicking. everything will surely become much more difficult if there is chaos, and more dangerous for all parties involved. "makes sense. i'll follow your lead." the advice is surprising enough that it is difficult to hide, his expression easy to spot to a carefully trained eye, the way his eyebrows scrunch, lips purse. there is a part of him eager to prove himself that wants to say it's all good, but he thinks too highly of chris, too worried if it would be taken as disrespect, to do that. instead, he takes the last few sips of his coffee and puts the cup back onto the table, before pulling the folder towards himself. while he hasn't seen as many cases in police force, he has seen a couple at this point — he uses that to calm himself down as he flicks open the first page. this isn't the first time he has seen a dead body, not by a long shot; he has seen enough to know how death settles on eyes once filled with life, how it feels to know it's a loved one, how it felt when he was only a kid. but even then, even if it was personal — death hadn't taken this form. the pictures are grotesque in a way that makes his stomach churn, difficult to tell where the person starts and where it ends. for the most part, he manages to keep a straight face, but the lightheartedness before is completely gone, something more guarded taking its place, in an attempt to show that he can be professional. that he can handle this. when the file is closed, he takes a deep breath, leans back, and tries act normal. "yeah. uh-" his voice is a bit coarser as he straightens up again. "you think that wasn't an animal attack?" it's less of a question and more of a statement, even with the inflation at the end. they wouldn't be handed this if it were an animal attack. yet it's impossible to wrap his head around a person doing all of that.

from the small pressure between minsu's legs, nok swears he can feel the shiver running through the other's body. maybe it is his imagination, or the way his own body is reacting. but this isn't his first rodeo, nor the first man he had underneath him. there is a thrill unlike ever before, of doing it in public, of doing it with minsu of all people — and nok pointedly does not think about those facts. lets the irrationality wash over him, and continues giving in to his instincts. to the hand that moves to his thigh and stays, the touch that burns through the fabric, spreads across his skin, his whole body. the hiss that comes from minsu is like music to his ears, pulling the ends of his lips upwards despite he wishes to remain stone-faced, to pull more and more out of the man in front of him. yet, it is clear he is just as weak, just as magnetized towards him, unable to stay away. the title results in the exact reaction he was expecting, and at the command, the next breath that leaves him hitches momentarily, a lapse in which it's impossible to hide how affected he is. "or what?" whispers into the air between them, a tilt of his head, as if he is not the one pushing all along. "would you prefer oh-nim, instead?" then, when nok fears he will pull away, there are hands underneath his thighs, adding fuel to the fire, and there is no doubt in his being as he aids minsu in this endavor, moving with practiced ease until he is sitting on top of his thighs. the burn is electrifying, and he takes a quick look to see if anyone has noticed. it likely would not be the first time people are getting frisky in a bar, yet nok isn't too sure how it applies to minsu with his position. it's only a brief moment as he scopes the people around, and satisfied that they aren't paying them any attention, returns to what he desires. "is this where you bring all of your thieves?" a raise of his eyebrow, putting more weight on where he is sitting on top of his thighs, hands moving, one around his shoulders, the other up into his hair again. his hands continue playing with the strands, finding it addicting as it is with everything about minsu- seeing him with red lips and messy hair bringing something carnal within him. "i see no one is phased by this display."

Like hell Chris would let him get away with recklessness and not detailing every bit of information he'd gathered in that facility. "I'm sure everyone wants to read about your heroic tale of fighting the ass head monster."

he steps even closer as chris puts his hands around his waist, and raises an eyebrow. lets the silence linger for a few seconds before shaking his head, laughter falling from his lips. "sure, redfield. i'll wait five minutes next time... though i know it's hardly ever just five minutes with you." he attempts to stifle the grin for a bit, before it shows up in full force. tilting his head against the hand on his face, his own goes up to brush away a part of said viscera from chris' gear, knowing it won't actually help. "it doesn't look that bad- maybe it will be useful for the next bow you encounter, having the guts of its friends all over you." the brushing turns into patting, deliberately over the other's pecs, as if it wasn't his intention just to grope him a little. "urgh- sure. just send the invoice to my assistant." who doesn't exist and they both know it. "they have a bit of a backlog but i'm sure they will eventually get to it." as someone who doesn't even have a partner on his missions, having an assistant sounds hilarious enough that he keeps it up a bit. "though i suppose i could arrange some preferential treatment... if necessary." looks down at chris' lips very pointedly, before looking back up into his eyes again. a groan falls from his lips at the mention of a report, and he lets his head fall on chris shoulder, deliberately difficult about it. "i almost die, you call me boring, and then i have to write a report?" a sigh accompanies the words, and with his neck so close, he cannot help but press a kiss against the skin. alright, he has been planning on dragging it longer, but he has missed chris too much for it. "i could swear you liked me, redfield." and before he can get distracted even more, he pulls off one of his hands and digs around in his pockets, then holds out the usb. "i even got you a gift."

Right  now  he's  taken  up  residence  in  a  makeshift  container  full  things  marked  B.S.A.A.  Sometimes  he  still  can't  believe  what  they've  been  up  to.  Not  much  time  is  spent  on  it  when  Leon  walks  in  and  nods  in  greeting.  “Leon.”  Ever  the  quick  witted  one.  “The  game  was  on.  Couldn't  risk  missing  out  on  the  money  I  had  on  it.  We  won  by  the  way." 

this back-and-forth banter is familiar and treasured enough that one end of his lips curls into a grin, before he lets out a performative huff, shaking his head. "how much did you win? it better be worth you missing the fireworks." with that, he looks at one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs, and although he will definitely be getting it dirty, sits down on it nonetheless. "the final fight was electrifying." a laugh leaves his lips at his own joke, before another shrug. he idly thinks that it feels great to be able to move without feeling that ever-lasting pain. "then it turned into something nemesis-like, which we have killed what? a thousand times?" an eyebrow goes up, assuming it's not going to be much of a surprise to chris either. "usual umbrella shit." with that, he puts the elpis syringe on the table between them, with utmost care in his movements. it's a paramount display of trust, something unspoken behind the actions. "i believe you'll be able to get this to sherry quicker than i can." even if he were to skip most of the check-ups, the wolves would be quicker than the one-man band leon is. if it were anyone but chris, leon wouldn't have trusted them. maybe with his own life, but not with sherry's. he thinks chris knows this too. his eyes linger on the syringe that lies between them, for a few seconds too long, before he averts his eyes. "that's most of the reason why there's nothing left of raccoon city." he knows this has been more of a home to chris than it has ever been to leon, but he doesn't know if he can manage to be as tactful about it as he should be. too many people have died here, all for nothing. "how much do you know?"

[ carry ] sender carries receivers muse to safety after finding them injured. [ stitch ] sender stitches receivers wound. [ hand ] sender holds receivers hand during a painful procedure. [ wound ] sender cleans receivers wounds with gentle and shaky hands. [ panic ] sender panics while trying to stop receiver's bleeding. [ patch ] sender patches receiver up using makeshift materials (i.e. torn shirt). [ fire ] sender drags receiver out of a burning building. [ pressure ] sender puts deep pressure on receivers wound while yelling for help. [ mouth ] sender gives receiver mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. [ change ] sender helps receiver change out of bloodied clothes. [ wash ] sender helps wash dried blood off of receivers face. [ shower ] sender helps receiver shower after an injury. [ broken ] sender tries to stabilize receivers broken limb with rope and sticks.

Smooth.

the flush that spreads up his neck and across his cheeks is probably impossible not to spot. the double entendre is out of his lips involuntarily, and hangs in the air between them for a few milliseconds too long. then, luckily, chris takes it in stride and laughs — which makes him relax, join in on the laughter, shoulders dropping from where they were hunched and tense. "i sense some foul play in this, cards were not dealt very fairly." his tone is light enough to convey it is a joke, even if it is the truth, he isn't offended by it. of course, they aren't going to treat him the same way they treat chris redfield. the acceptance that he will let leon pay next time pulls another smile out of him, followed by a nod, similar to those he gives to lieutenant baranagh, excited yet trying to play it cool. the coffee is set in front of him before he can react, and it's difficult not to pick up on how much of a gentleman chris is. while it is not a surprise, being the recipient of that does not make it any easier to forget the odd feeling in his stomach. the case is a good distraction, and once the briefing starts, he grows more serious, focusing on the words, listening to every small detail, trying to connect any dots if there are any. he takes a sip of his coffee, and once chris pauses, he begins asking his questions. "no dead bodies then? are there any connections between the victims? how long has it been going on?" these are the usual questions that he was taught at the academy, simple ones to get one's footing. then, chris continues, in a completely unexpected way. the flush returns at full force, and if it were anyone else, there is a high chance that leon would be offended. but it's chris, and it's hard to take offense. "uh- sure. i- i won't cause any distractions, promise." a grin that is more awkward now, trying to gauge if chris genuinely thinks he is handsome or that he is inept. leon desperately hopes it's the first, but does not have many clues to go on. "i will do just that. stand... and watch... and learn. thanks again for letting me tag along." it turns earnest quickly; leon does feel honored to tag along in a mission with chris, even if it's doubtful he will be of much help.

he'd  run  the  numbers  .  three  times  ,  while  he  dragged  himself  up  the  path  with  one  hand  pressed  to  his  side  and  the  other  finding  whatever  it  could  to  hold  onto  .  closest  town  ,  not  close  enough  .  he'd  bleed  out  before  the  halfway  mark  .  his  supplies  ,  down  to  two  bandages  and  a  prayer  ,  neither  of  which  were  going  to  cut  it  tonight  .  that  left  one  option  .  one  door  at  the  end  of  this  road  and  one  person  behind  it  who  was  going  to  see  him  like  this  ,  reduce  him  to  it  .  .  .  and  he  was  going  to  have  to  stand  there  and  take  it  . 

most of the night has been spent trying to understand a weird soap opera on the tv. they had stumbled upon it while browsing through netflix, and found it weirdly appealing, assuming it is probably a good way to get to know more about humans. as it stands, it seems jude will spend more time here, with one wing gone and most of their powers out of commission. the knock on the door is surprising enough that they shoot up, glad for the turn of events, and open it wide to see who it is that's visiting. first glimpse, it is a familiar face. "kyu! did you change your mind, then?" about letting jude tag along on whatever missions they were going on, they knew they could be helpful, although their reasoning was just that they wanted to get to know other creatures more. then, second glimpse, it's easy to see all the blood that seeps into his clothes, and it makes them frown. "oh- that's not good. you do need my help after all!" it's less of a bragging and more of genuine glee. "come on, come on — i think i should be able to patch some of these with my powers still. they don't look too bad."