drabblewriter

allbingo

Leon's alarm goes off, shrill and unpleasant, the tone chosen specifically to wake him from even the deadest of sleeps.

This morning, though, his eyelids flutter, but he doesn't move. There's a car coming to get him in less than an hour and ferry him to another private plane, another bioterror war zone - more danger, more stress, more death, more trauma - and he isn't ready.

Leon squeezes his eyes closed and turns his face into the pillow, unable to raise enough energy to even cover his ears against the alarm. He hadn't been confident, but he'd at least hoped he'd feel better when he woke up than he did last night.

There's movement behind him, and Leon winces at the same time Chris murmurs his name.

He'd almost forgotten. Chris, who'd invited himself over when Leon refused to answer his texts and calls, had insisted on making him dinner and putting him to bed - and refused to fuck him when he was "emotionally compromised." But at least he'd stayed. Leon hadn't asked, of course he hadn't asked, but Chris had known he needed him.

Chris reaches over him and taps off the alarm, then keeps his arm around Leon as he kisses his neck gently. "Morning."

Leon doesn't say anything.

He can feel Chris frown against him. His voice stays in that gentle place Leon needs at times like this when he murmurs, "Still feeling bad?"

Leon grunts.

Chris's lips graze his skin again. "I'd like to let you stay in bed, but you'll feel worse if you have to deal with the DSO wondering why you're not ready"

"Duty calls," Leon mutters, voice rough.

Chris hums. "You could always call in. Even Leon S. Kennedy is allowed to get sick."

Leon sighs, nudging him away and sitting up. "You know as long as I can move under my own power, they're not letting me off the hook."

He watches Chris's face twist, oddly comforted by knowing what he'll say next. "I hate the way they treat you."

"We do important work. If I stay in bed today, how many will die? If not today, tomorrow or the next? I owe it to them."

"Duty," Chris scoffs, though Leon could talk to him for ages about his own relationship with the concept. "What about your duty to yourself?"

"I'm fine," Leon decides. He pushes himself out of bed, holds his arms up as if to demonstrate the proof of it - and quails only slightly when he sees the look on Chris's face. "Okay, I'm functional. Chris, laying around feeling sorry for myself is just going to make me feel worse."

The concern doesn't leave Chris's face, but he nods slowly. "Okay."

The word is soft, and Leon hates the way the understanding makes his eyes misty even as his heart clenches at the care in it.

Chris stands and steps toward him. "Okay, Leon." A hand comes up, so tender as it tucks hair behind his ear then cups his jaw. Chris leans in, lets Leon close the rest of the distance for the kiss. "Go shower and get dressed. I'll make breakfast. I'm at least going to take care of you until it's time."

A small smile blossoms on Leon's face. "That sounds nice."

And it is. The hot water and familiar scents of soap and shampoo wake him up and help settle him in his body. When he pads out to the kitchen, Chris is putting bacon and eggs on the table, and he smiles up at him, further melting the ice around Leon's heart. Breakfast is slow and quiet, and they chat about nothing in particular, free hands touching on the table. When the car arrives, Chris carries Leon's bag out for him and kisses him before he ducks inside.

"I'm okay," Leon promises, the words feeling truer now, and he can tell Chris believes him. "I'll see you again soon."