A LOT CAN CHANGE IN A YEAR. OR A MONTH. OR A WEEK. OR ON A WEDNESDAY EVENING. LEON S. KENNEDY OF THE RESIDENT EVIL SERIES. SINGLE SHIP + EXCLUSIVE WITH @SINQUIEM.
written by adrian, twenty-seven, he/him.
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@rotquiem
A LOT CAN CHANGE IN A YEAR. OR A MONTH. OR A WEEK. OR ON A WEDNESDAY EVENING. LEON S. KENNEDY OF THE RESIDENT EVIL SERIES. SINGLE SHIP + EXCLUSIVE WITH @SINQUIEM.
written by adrian, twenty-seven, he/him.

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@stopmeteor's older now. can hold a weapon in her hands without completely falling over. he tries not to think about it, what he sees when he looks at aerith. his own hands out, a metal rod offered to her smaller palms. how he remembers the first time his father put a weapon in his hand. lightweight, handgun custom-made for a boy only twelve years of age. leon called her matilda. sentiment has no place in a turk's repertoire ( well, ex turk ), but he kept her nonetheless. thing's long gone by now.
" try this one on for size, " looks like this one might suit her best, he thinks. " think it'll work? "
would anyone like a para starter ๐
' well , now you gotta tell me ... ' leant forward , but his smirk does nothing to favor him and his endeavor to hear tales of their past. ' how bad was it? ' / @rotquiem
" aren't you nosy. " well. at least dante was kind enough to share some of his stash before pushing the topic. the bottle is cold in leon's hand. a stark contrast to the rest of him. rivulets of sweat dripping off bare skin. the ceiling fan whirling above them does little to help. can't quite cool him off. the tale he's about to tell, though. might get him what he needs. " he was โฆ nice, i'll give him that, " he takes a swig. " but that's about all i can give him, because he was terrible in setting the mood. knew how to talk a big game, though. " all the right things to say. none of the execution. " guess talking a big game doesn't translate to being good in bed. who would've guessed. "
I want to write up an actual timeline re: Leon's transition but just know it wasn't linear and he didn't feel truly at home in his body until his 40s ๐

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*takes gulp of vodka straight from the bottle* my day was fine
two years have gone. almost to the date: when an elaborate plot had the president infected. when leon had to put him out of his misery by a pull of the trigger. it sticks with him still. hits him when he's called to the oval office. hits him now, sitting in the same seat benford probably sat in, he's sure, while conducting interviews for potential candidates. bright-eyed hopefuls for the dso, he'd tell leon. our next generation against bioterrorism.
hopefuls they are, indeed. shows in their handiwork. in the targets marked with bullet holes in all possible weak points. in the dummy tucked in the corner, a knife lodged in its would-be ribcage. but none have managed to truly stand out. seems his colleagues have noticed, too. he runs a hand through his hair, list in hand. the name of the last interviewee is crossed out, and his gaze picks out the name beneath it. @braskide, yuna. the name doesn't ring any bells. must be a newer recruit. his eyes flit up at the doorway.
" send her in. "
i'll stay right beside you the whole time.
his forearm feels numb. if he curls his fingers into the palm of his hand, jab his nails into the skin. maybe he'll regain some sensation โ even if pain's the most likely response. it's what he remembers a little too distinctly. like it was yesterday. like he was still cooped up in a none-too-comfortable hospital bed, wound vac wrapped tightly around the site. like the site itself had been bashed in with a sledgehammer, and not even the strongest meds could completely dull the persistent ache.
it's been weeks now, and that level of pain has come and gone. still sore of course. but it's comparatively manageable. he's been through worse after all. in fact, his temporary relegation to desk duty might be the worst of them all.
the graft's healing nicely, at least. at least he can spend more time at home. at least he's not going through this leg of the journey alone.
leon's head lifts at dante's voice. his expression must have betrayed him. must have looked far away. prisoner to his thoughts, as he often is. makes him wonder how long he's been staring. can't have been too long, he thinks; dante would have none of that. over a decade of marriage'll do that. " yeah? " it's posed as a question, but they both already know the answer. the inflection in his voice shows it, too. his face softens. he reaches for one of his hands. " i know. "
incoherent grumbling under breath wouldn't go unnoticed , surely. as he stretches again , arms lift overhead , joints crack in sequence as he twists his body loose. the sounds of it all fills the room alongside leonโs own movements , the shop echoing , like it's waking up with them. ' you know i donโt do anything quick , ' he mutters while a smirk begins to settle upon his features once more , ' i like takinโ my time. ' a glance over his shoulder , half-lidded gaze following the other's form. ' and i happen to know you prefer it that way. '
at the mention of lady , he may have disregarded the comment entirely , waving it off without showing the slightest bit of concern. years of debt , years of gigs , years of arguments ... he and lady have a history that cannot be disrupted. this is what it was. ' yeah , yeah. well , sheโs the one who woke me up , so she can deal with it. ' heโs already moving , feet hitting the floor as he starts gathering scattered clothes from wherever they landed the night before. ' so , ' he says with his smirk transforming into a grin sharpening at the edges. ' whenโs that vacation you promised me ? '
he's got him there. leon does prefer it that way. thrives from it, actually. loves how detail-oriented dante is. how their moments of intimacy have no time limit. the evidence is written plain across his body. so is the smirk he gives him in return, " guilty as charged. " realistically, they're not leaving the shop for a while. not for another hour, at least. " i only told her we'd be there soon. i don't know about you, but my definition of 'soon' changes when it comes to you. " good thing he didn't give lady a specific time. the woman likely expects the worst out of them anyway, if he had to guess.
he watches dante while he moves. his gaze lingers longer than it probably should. all these years; it never gets old. dante ages gracefully. like a fine wine. leon's the lucky one who gets to experience it.
his attention shifts to the pile strewn about on his side of the bed. an arm stretches out to scoop up the remaining clothes. " i put in for it, " he goes through them, one by one. his jeans are thrown over one shoulder, " if all goes well, we'll be home free starting next month โ and i'm leaving my damn phone here. " he doesn't want a repeat of their last attempt at a nice vacation.
"fear can be a good thing. it means youโre facing down a demon." - also from freaky fear man elias :)
" you know, you keep showing up like this, i'm gonna start thinking you're flirting with me. i am married. " he knows what's coming. again. how many times does that make this โ two, three? and he can't do a damn thing about it. leon knows it. elias knows it too. obviously. he must be an easy target for him. after all, the trauma's practically handed to him on a silver platter. and the platter is interestingly shaped. a human heart combined with a human brain.
he reaches for his flask. the very same that dante gave to him not too long ago. another vacation interrupted. now to a greater extent. " can i at least finish my drink? think i'm owed that much. "

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The older Leon gets, the more he's like his adoptive dad and I think that's both really sweet and really sad
Whatever it takes to save this city, count me in.
Leon S. Kennedy Resident Evil 2 Remake (2019)
SENDER pulls RECEIVER closer by the hips.
their first intimate night together in months , and dante would be lying if he said the anticipation had not been driving him absolutely insane. admittedly , it had pained him to be so patient. patient through recovery; patient through every appointment and every bit of clearance needed before they could finally have this again. though , it pained him more to witness leon so ... unhappy , especially when dante had always experienced such profound happiness around leon. he caught glimpses of this ... displeasure , and some nights it prompted deeper conversations of dilemmas , of feeling dysphoria. of course , dante would listen , offer words of support when necessary โ โ โ he would do anything to ensure leon's happiness. and this journey of his , well , it was all worth it in the end if leon could feel at home in his own body. to see the man he loved completely and utterly removed from the battle of dysphoria , dante would ensure that whatever leon needed , he would have his support. the smile 'pon leon's face with the way he moved his body during recovery; the way weights were lifted from his shoulders , visibly releasing the tension ... yeah , it was worth the wait.
considering how much time heโs spent distanced from his lover , his restraint is near unrivaled. had he more strength , he might have pulled him close and never let go. skin to skin , unrelenting. for now , the gentle brush of his hand along leonโs cheek is enough. enough , so long as he can feel him again. his needs are satiated for now.
but ... thereโs an ache. an ache in his chest that has little to do with healing , and it continues to grow the longer he looks. the longer he notices : hair a little longer , strands of white that hadnโt been there before. time , stress ... marked plainly for him to observe now.
how long has it been , truly ? only two years ? it felt like twenty in hell. ' two years ... ' he repeats the words over slowly , like they donโt quite make sense to him. for just a brief moment , there lingers a silence that wanted begged for an interruption , almost like he might say something more. but he doesnโt. ' felt a hell of a lot longer to me. ' inexplicable pain pangs now , realization of how much he truly missed leon. a man who sought to deflect emotions and feelings , he can feel the sting of his eyes. ( devils never cry ... right ? )
his hand drifts , tracing a familiar path along leonโs neck to his chest , losing himself in the moment before choosing to have his hand settle briefly against his own body. a cough breaks through , sharper than he would have liked. yet another pain to add into the mix. he turns slightly onto his side , breath catching just enough to remind him heโs not quite healed all the way yet. ' iโm gettinโ too old for this , ' he mutters , half jokingly as he pushes himself upright.
now , sat upright , he was close enough to meet leonโs gaze properly , face to face. and , without meaning to , his eyes dip. lingering , just for a second , on his lips. ( it had been so long since he felt them pressed against his skin. he was desperate. ) another brief second of contemplation before taking hold of leon's lips with his own in a passionate kiss. the pains ... they've all but lifted , their weights gone for a fleeting moment. and he remembers , this is why he fought so hard , traversed the depths of that god - forsaken realm ... to ensure leon would not suffer at the hands of demons , that one day dante would return to him without so much as another gig lined up to tear them apart.
dante sounds โฆ incredulous. sure, two years is a long time. doesn't leon know it. but that apparent incredulity sticks with him. almost makes it seem like dante thinks it's been longer โ and that suspicion is confirmed shortly after. " how long did you think it was? " can't have been much longer than two, right? โฆ unless hell runs on a different time zone.
either way. the details don't mean much anymore. not when dante's fingers are actively trailing his skin. he missed this. missed him. starts to lose himself with him โ but the moment is short-lived when dante's hand suddenly retracts. a little too fast for his liking. instinct has his posture straighten. a cough. it's just a cough. has to remind himself it's fine. he'll be fine. he's still whole. still with him. " yeah. you are, " his palm settles on his back, stroking the skin there. " i'm right behind you. " not much of a joke anymore at the age they are now.
the thought leaves him as quick as it arrives because his lips are claimed. swiftly. deliberately. desperately. he returns it with equal fervor. as if he's been starved all this time, and only now is he finally being fed. hands lift, cradling dante's face. he pushes into him, just slightly. doesn't want to aggravate anything that hasn't yet healed for him. he only craves the closeness.
they part eventually, but leon makes no move to lean back. his hands glide from dante's cheeks. moving downward. to the sides of his neck, his shoulders. he pulls him into his chest. a loose embrace in order to allow him to breathe. one of his hands drifts to the back of his head. feeling the hair that's grown out, fingers dividing the strands that are still stuck together. his other hand brushes aside the bangs that've fallen over his eyes. " need to trim this. it's getting in your eyes again. "
his head hits the pillow. the only pillow on the bed, actually, because @sinquiem can't be bothered to buy another one. maybe he should have taken one with him during his last assignment after all. the thought crossed his mind, sat with him longer than it should've, at the time. why should he care? a better question: why did he even think about it to begin with? for someone whose life is forfeit come the following week โ for someone who doesn't know what it's like to have his own soul, he's feeling an awful lot. for someone. too much, yet not enough.
leon feels dante's weight shift beside him. probably making himself comfortable, lying next to him. sharing the one pillow. the hair briefly tickling his cheek is a good indicator. but he doesn't look over at him. his stare remains firmly fixed on the ceiling. he doesn't know why he wants to tell him. let him in on how he's gotten away with so many visits as of late. why he hasn't been called to the other side for the last month. he doesn't know why he can't look him in the eye while telling him, " i'm going to die next week. for good, this time. "
54. for a vulnerable starter.

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Cuties
โ donโt bite your lipโmoan. i want to hear it. โ
leon learned the walls of his apartment were thin within the first week of moving in. doesn't have to put an ear against the wall to make out margaret's voice as she prattles along to whoever's on the other end of the line on the flip phone he's seen her with. doesn't need silence to pick up on phil's side of things, either. ( last he heard, he's dating someone. good for him. he figured the man he kept taking home was bound to put a label on it eventually. ) all that to say, his neighbors are consistent. eight, almost nine years worth. everyone else comes and goes.
his neighbors like him. ' i never hear a peep from you, ' margaret always says when she catches him in the hall, after he hands her her mail. ' you sure you actually live here? ' phil asks him, jokingly. he's quiet. keeps to himself. wake up early, go to work. come home late at night. nurse a bottle if he needs it. go to sleep. repeat the cycle. of course they'd like him.
after tonight, though. he's not sure that goodwill will stick around.