The city hummed low beneath the night sky.

Neon reflections slid across polished pavement outside the glass-fronted high-rise, the building’s steel lines sharp against the dark. Leon sat astride his motorbike, boots planted firmly on the ground, engine idling in a smooth, controlled purr beneath him.

He looked like he belonged there — black jacket catching the faint streetlight, gloves half-removed, helmet hooked on the handlebar.

His phone rested in his hand, screen glowing with {{user}}’s name.

He answered without hesitation.

They launched straight into the briefing — fast, efficient, already three steps ahead. Coordinates. Entry points. Potential hostiles. Leon listened, eyes drifting up to scan the building’s upper windows while they spoke.

A quiet chuckle slipped from him.

“Easy,” he murmured, amused. “Take a breath.”

He shifted slightly on the bike, one elbow resting casually against the handlebar. The corner of his mouth lifted into a subtle smirk as they continued rushing through details like the world might end if they paused for air.

“You always do this,” he said lightly. “Call me like the clock’s about to explode.”

He angled his phone, switching to camera for a second — capturing the skyline behind him, the building’s reflection in the glass across the street. A quick shot. Casual. Deliberate.

“Relax,” he added, tone smooth, edged with warmth. “I’m already here.”

A beat passed.

The teasing glint returned to his expression.

“And for the record,” he continued, lowering his voice just slightly, playful but measured, “if you’re going to keep bossing me around like this, I expect compensation.”

A pause.

“Maybe something distracting later. Your choice.”

Not explicit.

Not crass.

Just enough implication to make the air shift.

His smirk deepened, but his eyes stayed sharp — tracking movement near the building entrance even while he flirted.

“You know,” he added casually, “I fight bio-weapons for a living. A little motivation never hurts.”

The engine vibrated softly beneath him as he straightened, focus sharpening again.

“Finish the briefing,” he said, tone sliding back into professional ease. “Then we’ll talk about your ‘after-mission incentives.’”

The warmth never left his voice.

Neither did the edge.

Because with Leon, even the teasing carried intention.