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The sterile air of the gleaming white facility had felt a little nippy against Claire’s skin, but now, crammed into a small storage closet with Leon, it was uncomfortably warm from the heat of their bodies, almost suffocating.
The two had ducked inside at the sound of heavy footsteps rocking the pristine floor, belonging to a tyrant the lab’s scientific director had unleashed on them.
The footsteps faded, then returned. Leaving wasn’t safe yet.
Behind her, Leon shifted, his breath warm against the back of her neck. His foot nudged a broom, nearly knocking it over before he caught it. He let out a long sigh of relief.
“Are you trying to get us killed, Kennedy?” Claire murmured, her back still turned to him as she faced the door, her gun raised as high as the cramped space allowed.
She resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from her forehead.
“My bad,” Leon whispered, his breath brushing her ear, making her shift and sending her heart into a series of stupid, frantic beats. “I’m spent. Once we sweep this all up, I could nap for a thousand years.”
Claire almost smiled at his lame joke, the corner of her mouth threatening to give him the satisfaction, before the footsteps returned, passing right by the door, each one booming like a thunderclap. She held her breath until they were nearly gone.
A bead of sweat rolled down her temple. The small space was becoming overwhelmingly stuffy now, and her jacket wasn’t helping.
Leon shifted again, their bodies separated by only millimetres when something stiff pressed into the back of her hip.
Claire almost gasped but caught herself, raising an eyebrow instead.
“Leon.” She cleared her throat, turning to look at him while ignoring the heat rising in her cheeks. “Are you excited to see me or…”
Leon stepped back as much as he physically could, furrowing his brow and trying to cross his arms before realising it was impossible in the confined space.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he scoffed, though he smirked anyway. “It’s my knife sheath, Red.”
His skin was slick with sweat, the heat affecting him as much as it did her. His dark blond hair clung damply to his forehead, and his chest rose and fell a little faster than normal. Yet his deep blue eyes remained steady and focused, tracing the way her auburn hair, damp with sweat, clung to her skin.
Claire chewed her lip and turned back to the door, shaking her head in a vain attempt to keep her hair from sticking to her face.
“Suuure,” she said, grinning as he sighed behind her. “Does your ‘sheath’ always dig into women’s backsides, or am I special?”
“First of all, no. Secondly, sure, we’ll go with that,” Leon muttered, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Why did we have to be investigating the same lab?”
“Admit it, you wouldn’t dream about being here with anyone else,” she said sweetly, ignoring the uncomfortable way the sweat made her blouse cling to her skin.
“Neither would you,” he shot back, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck again.
Claire shivered, subtly but unmistakably.
“Fuck you,” she muttered, though there was barely any heat behind it. Ironic, considering the warmth steadily building beneath her skin.
“Fuck me yourself, coward.” Leon dragged a hand over his head, wiping away the sweat, a dumb smirk settling on his face when he noticed her ears turning red.
Claire opened her mouth to snap back when the sound of footsteps returned. They both fell silent, other than their quiet panting, as the heavy thuds drew closer, rattling the space around them. Leon raised his pistol past her head, his fingers almost brushing her hair as he steadied his aim.
Claire willed herself to focus.
The footsteps faded, and they both exhaled deeply. Then Claire had a horrible thought.
“Do you think that’s the same one, or have they batch-cooked these bastards?” she asked, dread settling heavy in her chest.
How many times could one tyrant pass them? She wasn’t even sure if they were coming from different directions. It was possible they were sending a small army down the hall.
“Shit… I dunno,” Leon replied quietly, lowering his gun a fraction.
“C’mon, use that agent brain of yours,” she hissed, shifting slightly, her back brushing his chest and his sheath nudging her hip again.
“You’re making it hard to concentrate…” Leon muttered, shaking his head.
“Apparently that’s not the only thing I’m making hard–”
Claire’s heart jumped as Leon’s arm wrapped around her waist. She gasped when he pulled her back against him, his fingers splaying across her stomach, almost possessive.
“Enough fun,” he whispered into her ear, his voice slow and faintly strained. “We have work to do. Afterwards? Then we mess around all we want.”
He let his arm fall back to his side, and Claire had to stop herself from catching his wrist to keep it there.
“You really know how to ruin the rhythm.” Claire let out an exaggerated sigh, half rolling her eyes. “That isn’t usually your style.”
She turned to look at him, rolling up her sleeves and drawing in a long, steady breath. He flashed her a quick, almost awkward smile.
“Sorry, Red.” He shrugged, stepping a centimetre closer.
“No, it’s okay. We gotta get moving,” Claire replied, though she hooked two fingers through his belt and tugged him closer until their mouths nearly met. “Although, once we’re done, I wouldn’t mind a little messing around…” She bit her lip, stepping back just as he leaned in for more. “Up to you…”
Leon quickly composed himself, though the flush on his face was impossible to miss.
“I mean, y-yeah. That sounds good,” he stuttered, slipping past her and pressing an ear to the door. “Clear,” he said simply, though Claire could catch the restrained eagerness in his voice.
Claire chuckled as they finally stepped out of the cramped supply closet, the cool air brushing her sweaty skin.
If Leon needed motivation to get through this mission, she’d just given it to him.