Work Text:
SATURDAY 01:32AM
There was a knock at the door.
The figure of a man stirred from where he had fallen asleep at his desk, and lifted his head slowly to look toward the door of his small, dark studio apartment. Only the light of his computer screen hued everything in a vaguely greenish glow, blended a little with what neon lights from the city street below reached his window. He could hear the quiet traffic and distant laughter outside echoing up to his studio, but there was nothing coming from the other side of that door.
Another knock. Firm, as if the perpetrator of the unpleasant sound had no plans to move on.
Getting to his feet as silent as he could the man reached for his trusty custom-modded Samurai Edge and held it up by his head as he took a few steps toward the front door.
Very few people knew where Albert Wesker lived. And even when they did, he would’ve known if they were coming. When knocks came at your front door unannounced at this hour, it could only ever mean one thing.
Pressing his bare back against the door, he took a slow steady breath. The heat of the summer evening had left him shirtless after his after-work shower. Of course, trouble always seemed to arrive when he was half dressed.
The knock came again.
Slowly, cautiously, Wesker lifted the latch and opened the door.
A body stumbled inside and was quickly incapacitated by Wesker slamming him up against the door, arm to his throat. There was a muffled curse as they struggled for a moment in the darkness, Wesker keeping the muzzle of his gun jammed to the back of the intruder’s skull.
“Fucksake-!” The intruder choked out, voice slurring as if they were strongly indisposed. “Fuck, Captain, this how you treat all your visitors?”
In the eerie light of his computer screen, Wesker could just about make out the brunette tinge of the man’s hair. He grabbed the man roughly by the shirt and swung him around, throwing him back against the door with a gun still aimed at his head. Those familiar eyes met his, and he clicked his tongue in vivid disappointment.
“Redfield. I don’t recall calling for backup.”
Chris’ initial shock melted into a wry grin, and something about the way he stank of cigarettes and booze told Wesker all he needed to know. Here was Chris Redfield, his marksman and most frustrating to handle of the S.T.A.R.S team for many reasons. Unkempt, clothes half off as if he’d just been pulled from a playgirl magazine.
“You gonna shoot me with that thing, Captain?”
His words were slurring a little as he spoke, his eyes firm and challenging. Drunk no doubt. As would any young man be on a Friday night, Wesker supposed. Although that had never been quite his scene.
“You’re a nuisance, Redfield,” Wesker said coolly, keeping the gun pressed under Chris’ jaw, “if you were looking for somebody to play with, I’m afraid I’m rather busy tonight.”
Redfield had obviously just come straight from whatever shithole club the younger members of S.T.A.R.S liked to frequent. He was young and virile, handsome enough to not have to beg for a thing, and yet whenever he got so drunk he could barely walk straight he’d always come crawling to the wrong address. As if he were programmed to seek out Albert Wesker in his hour of need.
Chris licked his lips. He was too busy staring up at Wesker’s face to think clearly. The older man had forgone his usual shades, instead he was wearing a pair of rather ordinary reading glasses. Chris could never remember how Wesker’s eyes looked. But every time he saw that deep grey rather than the red he remembered in his dreams, he felt soothed by Wesker’s presence. The man tried so hard not to appear human that Chris sought out his humanity in everything, knowing he might be the only one who could really see it.
“Busy?” Chris finally said, curious. “With what?” He asked this in a ‘why not with me’ kind of way, almost offended.
“Unlike you, Christopher, I am dedicated to my work.”
Chris snorted. “You’re not married to work, Wesker.”
“No, but i’m not married to you either.” Wesker finally lowered his gun and let Chris go, letting the younger man try to steady his drunken self on his two feet in the middle of the room.
A sly look over Chris’ shoulder gave Wesker his reply to that. “Jesus, it’s hot in here,” Chris complained, shrugging off his shirt and tossing it over a chair as he stood in the low light of the computer, letting Wesker observe every single muscle and inch of his impressive upper body.
Wesker leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the younger man strip in front of him. He was used to Chris’ antics by now. A natural flirt, one who knew exactly what he was doing. A fit body for a man so young, and the way he kept throwing looks over at the Captain in his drunken haze seemed to only amplify why he had come here again.
“The club not enough for you tonight, Redfield?”
“Same as always. Lots of beautiful women,” Chris grinned, walking towards Wesker and stopping close enough that he could put his hands on the counter either-side of Wesker’s hips. “But I was in the mood for something else.”
Wesker looked down at Chris, feeling his hot quick breaths on his neck. “So, like the good boy you are, you came running back to me?” He asked sternly, holding Chris’ jaw in his right hand and putting a thumb lightly against the man’s lower lip. “Were you expecting some great reward for your sacrifice, my dear?”
Chris’ drunk puppy-dog eyes were only too telling. He could smell his aftershave now too, the one Wesker had bought him for his birthday, as though he’d precisely come to him smelling like the closest thing they had to a scent marker. Chris Redfield was a hopeless case. Wanting to be adored, cherished, ravished. He wanted Wesker’s acknowledgement as much as he wanted his cock, to be told he was good and follow his orders to the death.
Wesker sunk his thumb into Chris’ mouth, and the younger obediently parted his lips to let the older man place the pad of his thumb on his tongue. There were many terrible things he wanted to do to Chris Redfield. Turn his brain into mush with enough drugs, and keep him caged up like a wild animal until he’d fucked him into something unrecognisable. But that wasn’t the Chris that he wanted now, the young, passionate and selfish Chris. The one who was frighteningly competent yet easily overruled by his emotions. Wesker had never had a kind thought about another person before in his life, he was mentally fucked up from the start, and yet when it came to Chris all his instincts became sickeningly human.
“No..” Chris breathed as Wesker removed his thumb from his mouth, “I wasn’t in the mood for women, like I said-“
“Then, what?” He already knew the answer.
Chris Redfield sank down to his knees and put his lips against Wesker’s crotch, still looking up at him with those same pathetic eyes. “I wanted this, Captain,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against Wesker tantalisingly, “I wanted it so bad.”
Wesker said nothing, taking off his reading glasses and setting them aside as Chris pulled down his trousers and mouthed the shape of Wesker’s cock in his underwear.
The older blond knew only too well that one too many drinks made Chris an uncontrollable sex-pest after the office Christmas party, where Chris showed Wesker one of his many many talents in the RPD shower room – leading to Chris getting his ass so well and truly obliterated over Wesker’s desk in the S.T.A.R.S office that he had to be carried home. Whatever he had learned in the army had certainly worn off on him.
Chris moaned softly, fingers pulling down the waistband of Wesker’s underwear and pulling out the older man’s flaccid cock.
Wesker’s hand snaked through Chris’ hair, gripping it tightly and pushing his head back firmly. “Your behaviour is incredibly embarrassing, Christopher.” His authoritarian tone only ever made Chris more flushed and eager to please, but he so loved the look of shame on the younger’s handsome face as he had a moment of realisation that he couldn’t help himself. Chris was too cute not to be cruel to. “Running to me the moment you need your hole fucked. Have you any shame?”
“Mnh...” Chris groaned in pain as Wesker yanked his hair, his eyes still firmly on Wesker’s. “It’s because-“ he breathed, his fingertips searchingly tracing up Wesker’s thighs to his cock, “it’s because the Captain has such a nice cock. I can’t stop thinking about it. Fuck... I feel like i’m going insane...” Chris was drooling a little now, his pupils so dilated it seemed as though he’d taken something other than alcohol that night. Probably a good thing he’d come to Wesker. Wesker didn’t like the idea of some other sleazebag taking advantage of what was his. Only he got to see Chris this cock-drunk.
The blond’s stern expression softened a little, and he stroked Chris’ hair gently, watching the younger’s eyes droop at the touch.
“You’re a mess, Chris,” Wesker murmured, “what am I going to do with a boy like you?” He sighed, as if having to make a difficult decision. “Hands behind your back. If you touch yourself I’ll kick you out onto the street in this state.”
“Captain,” Chris muttered, obeying the order and quivering with excitement as he understood what it meant. With Wesker’s firm, dominating hand still entwined with his hair, he leaned in with only his mouth to kiss the tip of Wesker’s cock. He was breathing heavily now, letting his tongue glide along the slit and his lips close around it, sucking lightly as his tongue dipped underneath. The taste of Wesker, the heaviness of his cock in his mouth, it was everything Chris had been thinking about all damn week.
And now it was all his. His to kiss and lick, sucking along the underside and letting his tongue draw the veins that protruded. Wesker rarely made a sound when Chris touched him. He was so very strange and inhuman that Chris used to believe Wesker didn’t even want to sleep with him – but the stiff expression on his Captain’s face showed that he was just a man too proud to let another win over him. Besides, once Chris had done his worst, Wesker made sure to repay the debt.
“Don’t be a tease, Chris, you know better than to keep me waiting.”
Wesker’s voice trickled like molasses into Chris’ consciousness, filling his brain like tar as he hyperfocused on the man’s cock before him, slowly stiffening under his lips. Chris took the tip into his mouth again, swirling his tongue around and taking it in a little deeper, never choking since he’d more or less destroyed any semblance of a gag-reflex some time ago.
The soft city ambience floating in from the window was intercut with soft moans and slurping from the marksman between Albert Wesker’s legs.
“You’re disgustingly gorgeous with your lips around me like this, Chris,” Wesker spoke again, keeping his tone cool and steady as his fingers tightened in Chris’ hair. “Never forget where you truly belong, my dear,” his foot nudged against Chris’ crotch, feeling the younger’s cock straining to be released as he pushed the sole of his foot down onto it, forcing Chris to whimper around his cock, “this is your reality. Your future. Worshipping my cock until you never want for anything more.”
Chris pulled off from Wesker’s cock, lips swollen and red, his eyes a little teared up from the lack of oxygen. He licked the tip, drool running down Wesker’s length to his balls as Chris tasted Wesker’s precum. “I want it,” he slurred, “god, I want you to ruin me, Wesker.”
Wesker chuckled, forcing Chris back down onto his length, starting to roll his hips a little to fuck down into Chris’ throat. The younger was making soft little gagging noises now between his moans, it was electrifying, and Wesker could feel his sweat beading on the back of his neck as he concentrated on feeling his orgasm approaching, watching Chris’ lips and tongue exploring his cock with such a desperate hunger it was hard to imagine them anywhere else.
He'd been crueller when they first started sleeping together. But time had softened Wesker’s resolve into something similar to what a normal man might’ve called love. If love meant to protect and spoil to an unreasonable degree. He stroked Chris’ hair again, feeling the man moan around him as he let him fuck his throat raw.
“Be a good boy and swallow it all, Christopher,” he growled as he reached his edge, letting the length sit on Chris’ tongue as he came into the younger’s hot mouth.
Chris pulled back, and stuck out his tongue for Wesker to inspect. Glossy cum coated the surface, and then very purposefully, he closed his lips and swallowed it, with a look on his face that seemed to describe only utter bliss.
Wesker let Chris enjoy the euphoria, stroking his hair and letting the young man return to his senses. For as much as a rough soldier the youth wanted to appear as in day-to-day life, he’d evidently never been treated gently enough by the world. That was how people like Chris fell into the hands of terrible men like Albert Wesker. He didn’t deserve the devotion of such a man. But some narcissistic point of himself told him that he out of all people, was the only one who knew how to handle it. Chris was delivered to him by fate, because only Albert Wesker could have him.
“Was that enough to soothe your cravings?” Wesker asked sternly, tilting Chris’ head up again as he again pressed his sole down onto Chris’ stiff cock.
“No... never with you,” Chris murmured, pressing his cheek up against Wesker’s abdomen, his hips rocking a little to rub against the sole of Wesker’s foot. His eyes had lost some of the innocent puppy quality from earlier, now they were laced with a desire that Wesker had come to recognise only too well.
“Well then,” Wesker breathed, stroking Chris’ cheek and indicating for the younger to get back to his unsteady feet. He set his firm hands on Chris’ hips, gently thumbing the soft skin flecked with little scars from training and pulled him in close enough that Chris could rub against Wesker’s cock. His hands stroked Chris’ sides, feeling the younger tremble a little and shudder with the sensation of being touched. “What do you want from me, Chris?”
Chris was watching Wesker’s lips, his own parted a little as if waiting for a kiss. “I want to be touched. Everywhere.”
A wry smile broke Wesker’s lips. “That can be arranged.”
“And I want to feel good, only in the way you can make me.”
Of all the women Chris could’ve gone home with tonight, he’d chosen to come home to a good dicking instead. There really could be no saving him. Who knew the cocksure anti-authoritarian air-force exile had such a thing for being put in his place.
Chris’ hands were sliding up Wesker’s arms, resting on his shoulders as he watched the older man’s face. Wesker looked his age here, worn out from his work, his well kept hair falling over his handsome green eyes a little. Chris wanted to kiss him so bad his lips ached for lack of not touching the Captain’s. Wesker was too sexy to be his boss.
“And I want...”
Wesker chuckled, “getting greedy, are we?” His fingertips had crawled up Chris’ body now, tracing the shapes of his muscles again and making the younger shiver.
“Shut up, you old sleazy bastard,” Chris muttered, “kiss me.”
Chris melted into Wesker as if he were made for it, eyes shut as he lost himself in lips and teeth and tongue. A soft hum of pleasure, his gentle breathing, turning into little moans as Wesker’s fingertips lightly brushed over his inverted nipples. But he didn’t stop, sucking on Wesker’s tongue almost hungrily as he felt his nipples being rubbed and teased, his pecs being cupped and fondled like breasts.
When he finally broke back for air, he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from making any embarrassing sounds.
“I didn’t realise you were such a tits man, Captain.”
Wesker laughed, low and sly, and he squeezed Chris’ nipples again to make them pop out. “How can I not be when my lover has a pair like these?”
Chris shivered. Lover. Wesker rarely used that word to describe their strange sexual relationship.
“I dunno...” Chris whispered, his lips almost touching Wesker’s again, “I assumed you were more of an ass man.”
“Oh? What gave you that impression?”
A short laugh from the younger, and Wesker’s hands slipped down as if on cue to cup the gorgeous backside of Chris Redfield.
“Don’t be shy, Captain, I know you can’t resist me.” Chris was grinning again, his drunken, sly grin of knowing he was going to get exactly what he wanted – and Wesker was unable to change his mind. His bare chest was pressed to Wesker’s now too, the heat of their skin only too tempting.
Wesker couldn’t help but dryly smile at his partner. “If you think I will let you roll around in my bed smelling like a designated smoking area, think again, Redfield.”
Chris’ smile dimmed a little, a slight flush of embarrassment tinging his ears.
Wesker leaned in again, nibbling the top of Chris’ ear as his hands groped the younger’s tight ass. “Go clean yourself for me, then i’ll fuck you on some clean sheets until you’ve had your fill.”
Chris had always marvelled at how cool Wesker was when it came to sex. He was never in a hurry, so precise it seemed as though he had scripted the entire event in his head before it happened. Chris could feel the man was getting hard again as he rubbed himself against him, and yet he never showed any sign of giving in. Any time Wesker did initiate anything it was with long, meaningful touches and stares until Chris got so horny he couldn’t help but drop to his knees and beg for it. It felt as if they were playing some kind of stupid game, where Wesker tested how long it’d take before Chris couldn’t resist him any longer.
But he knew Wesker wanted it, the damn man was too proud to admit it. Whenever Chris had to go on missions for more than a week on his own, it was always Wesker who would summon him to his office for a debrief that included something remarkably unprofessional being committed over his desk.
“Yes sir,” Chris sighed, knowing he had no way of winning.
“Good boy. Ten minutes, any longer and i’ll be sending you straight to bed.”
A scowl.
Wesker quirked an eyebrow. “Clock’s ticking, Christopher.”
As Chris slid into the bathroom and turned on the shower, Wesker took a moment to organise himself. First things first, he switched off his PC, not wanting to leave anything incriminating out even for Chris (who was thankfully quite uncurious). Then he switched on the dim, golden light by the bed, and settled himself with his back against the headboard.
He hadn’t planned on Chris that evening, and he knew that Chris also had work in a few hours. He’d make this quick, but he’d be gentle. Wesker was in the mood to be kind with Chris tonight, maybe his more recent thoughts concerning a future where Chris might not be present had alarmed him – it’d be so much easier to lock him away after all. But then again – he listened to the sigh of the shower and the soft noises of Chris touching himself barely a wall away – he did quietly enjoy the spontaneity of his younger lover too.
There could be no perfect future for the two of them. Either Chris would accept Wesker and join him, or in his usual nauseatingly righteous manner, he would choose to save people he didn’t even know, and they would have to part. Chris wasn’t the type to be kept as a pet, deep down, Wesker knew that.
The shower switched off, and in the doorway of the bathroom, Chris emerged looking bashful with his hair clean and down. He always looked a little younger after a clean, as if he were the young man he was supposed to be if he hadn’t gotten drawn into military shenanigans so early in his life. Perhaps in another life he’d still be a student.
“Come here, Chris.”
“I’m not a pet,” Chris complained, although he obeyed Wesker’s command and straddled the older man’s lap.
His freshly showered skin was hot against Wesker’s own, and he smelled just like the Captain did. In the low golden light Chris looked stunning.
Wesker’s hands touched the man’s stomach, brushing over the smooth skin of his small waist and against the small of his back. His touches were firm and gentle, and Chris relaxed into them naturally enough.
“You’ve been taking good care of your body, Christopher,” Wesker murmured, leaning in and pressing his lips to the younger’s collarbone, his hands sliding down to cup the younger’s ass again.
“Y-yeah, I’ve been training with Barry more recently. I wanted to get bigger,” Chris said a little breathlessly, shuddering as Wesker’s fingers slid down his backside and stroked over his hole. “I thought you’d enjoy having more to play with, too.”
“So naughty, Chris,” Wesker drawled, his lips tracing down the man’s chest to his inverted nipples again which had softened in the shower. His tongue lightly traced over the bud, teasing it back to hardness again before he took it into his mouth and sucked lightly, biting his teeth into it to make Chris flinch and groan. “Were you getting excited, thinking of showing me your bigger tits?” His voice was dangerously low now as his fingers touched the lubricated entrance of Chris’ intimate zone and began to push inside.
“Yeah,” Chris breathed, grinding his hips down onto Wesker in an urgency to get those fingers deeper inside of himself. He’d played with himself in he shower too, not wanting to wait any longer to have the Captain stake his claim over his body.
Chris was sensitive. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or his incredible sex drive, but he was responding to Wesker’s tongue on his nipples more than usual. His little deep moans of pleasure were music to Wesker, and he slid two of his fingers deeper inside of his partner, stroking up toward that spot that Chris loved so fucking much. The sweet boy deserved some reward for working so hard.
“Wesker...”
Those melting puppy-dog eyes were back.
“Wesker, I want to kiss you.”
Wesker chuckled, “oh Chris, I have spoiled you.”
Chris was waiting for permission. Lips slightly agape, still softly moaning as Wesker’s fingers toyed around with the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him. His hands were on Wesker’s shoulders for support, clinging to him as if Wesker were his only anchor to this world. “Captain, can I?”
It shouldn’t turn Wesker on so much to hear Chris call him that. And yet it does, every time.
Having Redfield, so cool and ready to fight to the death over anything trembling on his lap, begging for a kiss? Fuck, Wesker felt as if nothing else mattered when these moments came, as if world domination only came in second to anything Chris Redfield had on his lips.
“Very well, come here you spoiled boy.”
Chris smashed his lips so hard against Wesker’s the older man reacted without thinking, with his free hand grabbing Chris by the jaw so hard the younger physically mewled in pain, his pretty eyes watering.
“Careful now, Chris, slowly. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
“Y-yes sir.”
Wesker let his grip loosen, and he guided Chris’ face down to let the younger try again. This time Chris was gentle, letting his lips brush over Wesker’s before attempting to kiss any deeper, his excitement radiating from the puffs of breath exhaling from his nose. Wesker let his lips part, allowing Chris to have as he pleased, whilst Wesker continued to focus his attention on finger-fucking Chris open.
Chris’ tongue in his mouth, Chris’ body pressed against him with such an urgency it as if his very skin was yearning for Wesker’s touch. Even inside he was trembling, stretching well as Wesker slipped in a third finger and spread them apart, testing how much Chris could take.
“Mmnh...”
Wesker smirked into their kiss, knowing better than Chris himself just how much could fit inside Redfield’s beautiful ass when he was horny enough.
Pushing Chris’ head back again, he felt the man softly moan in frustration, his tongue still at his lips. Chris was still slowly bumping his hips down onto Wesker’s fingers, his cock still hard and painful looking from being untouched for so long.
“For being such a good boy and not touching yourself, I might even reward you with my cock after all,” Wesker murmured, removing his fingers from Chris and stroking the man’s thigh. “Turn around, Chris, I want to see you taking my cock in every little detail.”
Chris grinned lazily, and corrected his position, his back now facing Wesker, feeling the tip of his lover’s objectively handsome penis gliding over his slicked up hole. “Y’know, Jill reckons you’re a closet sleazebag. I’m starting to think she’s right.”
One of Wesker’s hands set itself on Chris’ hip, keeping him steady with an authoritarian command. It settled all Chris’ nerves and excitement, reminding him that somebody else was in control, looking after him so he could enjoy himself for a while. He loved the soothing, adult aura of Wesker for that very reason.
Wesker’s other hand held his cock, rubbing the tip up against Chris’ entrance and sinking the tip in a little, before pulling it out with a soft, wet pop. “I thought you liked me being a little sleazy, your body does, anyhow. You’ve gotten so wet already for me,” he chuckled, teasing Chris over and over with the tip of his cock until he could feel the younger starting to shake again.
“Mnh... fuck, Wesker...” Chris bit his lip, doing his best not to jerk himself down onto the inviting length. “Fuck... maybe I do like it,” he laughed shakily, his hands gripping onto the bedsheets. “How long are you gonna tease me for, Captain?”
“Are you in a hurry, Christopher?”
“N-no... just, mngh... ah.. I just... need something more.”
He was being good, holding out for Wesker’s command.
Wesker gently lowered Chris’ hips, letting the tip of his cock sink into the tight heat and spread open the younger’s hole before his eyes. He thumbed the rim, snugly stretched around his girth and felt the shuddering moan as it passed through Chris’ frame.
“You’re taking me well, my dear,” Wesker murmured, letting Chris gently bounce himself on the tip of Wesker’s cock, aching inside for more. “It’s a shame I don’t have two cocks, this hole of yours looks as if one isn’t enough anymore.”
“Ugh... stop talking and fuck me, you old sleazy bastard.”
“Old?” Wesker yanked Chris down, impaling him fully on his cock making the younger cry out in painful pleasure, “could an old man fuck you so good you weep, Christopher?”
“Shit-“ Chris cursed, arching his back as at last he found himself able to lift himself up and roll his hips back down onto that beast Wesker kept hidden in his trousers, feeling his cock smack into his prostate at such a perfect angle his whole body seemed to ripple in pleasure. Both of Wesker’s hands were on his hips now too, the older thrusting up short and sharp to meet Chris’ bounces, smacking their skin together in a violently hard rhythm. Chris didn’t even realise he was drooling until Wesker grabbed his hair and pulled his head back hard, as if making sure Chris wouldn’t zone out of his reality.
“Don’t forget where you belong in this world, Christopher,” Wesker growled, watching Chris convulse in pleasure on his cock with villainous enjoyment. “How can you? You were practically designed for this.” As he said this, he smacked his hips up so hard that Chris cried out and dripped precum onto the sheets.
“God damn it, Wesker,” Chris choked out, feeling his hole getting sloppier and sloppier with each violent thrust. He liked it when it hurt, the pain adrenaline as though he were in battle coursing through him with the vicious pleasure being his prize, feeling bruised and beaten inside knowing it was the only man he really trusted in this whole damn world who was driving him this insane.
He could feel his cock aching, begging for any kind of stimulation. But Chris knew better. If he just held out, if he could prove to Wesker he could abstain, he’d be rewarded and made to cum so good he’d be reeling for days. Showing up to work still cock-drunk and horny remembering the pleasure, sitting at his desk drooling onto his paperwork as he remembered how Wesker’s cruel, handsome face looked between his trembling thighs.
Chris didn’t even realise he was whimpering until he felt Wesker’s hand relaxed on his hip, soothing him with gentle circles made with his fingertips. The pace slowed a little, and Chris found his breath, taking his time sinking onto Wesker’s cock and rolling his hips in a motion that allowed the tip to grind into his prostate so deliciously his whimpers turned into eager moans again.
“Is this what you were craving tonight, Christopher?”
“Ugh... fuck... yeah,” Chris shut his eyes, focusing on the sensation and the sloppy sounds his own body made as it let itself fall apart in Wesker’s full view. “Only the Captain.... could be enough.”
Wesker’s other hand stroked Chris’ hair before tugging it again. He’d been enjoying the view of Redfield’s rippling back muscles and his hole taking his cock so well, but he’d been enjoying his vocals too. As he pushed him closer and closer to his orgasm, Chris got louder, louder than whenever they fucked sober.
“Are you going to cum from my cock alone?” Wesker drawled, “you are easy to please.”
“Captain, Captain...” Chris was panting under his breath, chasing his pleasure with the quick thrusts of his hips down, before he tensed up and choked out a cry of ecstasy.
Wesker felt his cum spatter a little onto his leg, but he was willing to forgive Chris this time. Besides, he was reaching his limit as well.
“Hahh.. god...” Chris moaned, still bouncing his hips as he rode out his orgasm, “cum inside me, Captain, make me yours.”
“Oh Chris...” Wesker gritted his teeth, “how can I ever say no to you?” He grunted, sharp and controlled as he came, still letting Chris milk him through his orgasm as he let the pace slow down and down, until Chris came to a stop sitting on his hips with Wesker’s cock sheathed inside him to the hilt. They were both breathing heavy, and Wesker could feel that Chris was starting to exhaust himself.
“You really are something,” Wesker murmured, kissing Chris’ spine gently. “Lift yourself up, my dear, and present yourself.”
Chris obeyed, slowly prising himself up from Wesker’s cock and spreading his ass to show his hole, gaping and swollen. He moaned softly as Wesker’s fingers slipped inside of him again, fucking the remarkably sloppy hole until they pulled out, followed by a thick glob of cum. Wesker pushed it back inside, fucking Chris with the cum slowly and caressingly.
“You are so very gorgeous, Christopher. How do boys like you get entangled with terrible men like me?”
Chris looked over his shoulder down at Wesker, flushed and grinning as though he’d just achieved something wonderful. “I had my eyes on you first, Captain. Stop trying to make me your victim.”
Wesker’s lips turned upward into a slight smirk. “Lie down on your stomach, i’ll give you another reward for being so cute this evening.”
Eagerly, as if he knew what was coming, Chris rolled off of Wesker’s lap and lay down, head on the pillow. He was watching Wesker closely, leaning up a little to accept the gentle kiss to his lips as Wesker moved on top of him. Then he sighed, shutting his eyes and relaxing as he felt Wesker’s lips exploring his shoulders, kissing the back of his neck and down, down his spine.
“Sometimes I wonder if you like the taste of yourself more than I do,” Chris mumbled into the pillow, shifting and sighing as he felt Wesker spread his ass open, and felt the lips kissing around his hole.
Wesker didn’t offer a reply, letting his tongue trace the quivering rim of Chris’ hole before entering him.
“Who knew the Captain of S.T.A.R.S liked ass this much?” Chris teased as Wesker’s tongue stroked inside of him, soft and wet and lewd, relaxing compared to the aching his cock had left inside of him. Chris hugged the pillow to his face, breathing in the pure scent of Albert Wesker, thoughts rolling around his brain about how nice it’d be for this to be his reality. Every night in Wesker’s bed, enveloped in the man’s everything. “Ah... you’re gonna get me hard again...” Chris mumbled, closing his eyes.
“If you do, Christopher, do you really think i’d spoil you with another orgasm?”
Chris grinned to himself. “Yeah, I do.” Wesker could try all he wanted to be the aloof sadist he thought he was, but Chris knew the man better. He was a man desperate for love, as much as Chris was himself, and he couldn’t say no to anything Chris desired.
The younger man moaned softly as two fingers slid inside him again, pressing down on his prostate and working the sensitive nerves sloppily as Wesker’s tongue returned to his hole too, licking out the cum and sucking on the rim to make his lover fidget with pleasure.
“Wesker, god... Wesker...”
Chris’ moans were sending Wesker’s brain spiralling too as he worked the boy’s hole sloppier and sloppier. Hearing Chris place his name beside that of god seemed like a calling confirmed.
“Are you trying to make me fuck you again?” Wesker whispered hoarsely, kissing Chris’ tailbone as he looked up to see his lover curling up into the pillow with a face of bliss. He slid his other hand up Chris’ thigh as his right hand continued to stroke the younger’s weak point. “Tell me, Chris. Anything you desire, i’ll make it yours.”
Chris’ puppy-dog eyes flickered open, and he turned his body a little, showing his obviously stiff cock. “Can you finish me with your mouth, Captain?”
Wesker didn’t need Chris to beg for it. He lifted up Chris’ hips to let the younger’s legs rest on his shoulders as he brought his mouth to Chris’ length, staring down at the flushed face of his beloved as he took him into his mouth. Their eye contact never ceased.
Chris loved the helpless feeling, his fingers clutching onto the sheets, shuddering and gasping for breath as the handsome older man sucked his cock so good his toes were scrunching up.
“Good boy, keep your eyes on me,” Wesker smirked as he pulled his mouth off to let Chris’ saliva covered cock shiver in the air, “I want to see that pretty expression of yours.”
“Yes sir...” Chris breathed, gasping out a moan as Wesker began to suck him again, the sensation of his skilful tongue tracing every inch of him, taking him deeper and deeper into the throat of his superior. Chris didn’t care whether Wesker had slept with men before him, he supposed he probably had considering how knowledgeable he was in bed, but he liked the fact that Wesker had still chosen him to be the one to receive such pleasure from him. It made all those times he’d been beaten viciously on the sparring mats by the man a little more manageable.
“Wesker, I’m gonna cum again,” he warned his partner, feeling delirious with pleasure, “ngh... f-fuck...”
Wesker pulled off his cock again, but wrapped two fingers around it, stroking it up and down with the tip resting against his open mouth against his waiting tongue. There was a frightening glow in his eyes as he challenged Chris. Challenged him to cum into his mouth if he dared.
Chris felt his head tilting back as he came for the second time with a low shudder, readjusting his vision to watch as he squirted cum unceremoniously into Wesker’s waiting mouth. He squirmed in oversensitivity as Wesker closed his mouth around his tip again, cleaning the last of it off with his expert tongue.
“Urgh... don’t, it hurts...” Chris whined.
Wesker decided Chris had probably had enough, and gently lowered him back onto the bed before lying down beside him, leaning in to kiss his younger lover with a smirk.
“You’re too sexy to be a cop,” Chris slurred, grabbing Wesker by the back of his neck and pulling him in to kiss him again, “shouldn’t you be looking to settle down at your age?”
“Christopher, are you making me a proposal?”
Chris laughed, and he realised Wesker too was truly smiling against his lips – not just his signature ‘I beat you all’ smirk. He pulled Wesker in, wrapping his arms around the man seeking his warmth as they lay skin to skin in the golden lamplight. The very first drink that had touched his lips that night had told him he’d end up here, in Wesker’s sturdy embrace, feeling in every sense of the word ‘home’.
“Get me a key to this place, then we’ll talk marriage.”
“And what if I said no? After all, I find you terribly distracting to my work.”
“When I wake up tomorrow,” Chris grinned, “there’ll be a key waiting for me. Won’t there.”
“You won’t find out if you don’t go to sleep, my dear.” Wesker was stroking Chris’ hair absentmindedly now, running his fingers through the soft freshly washed locks of brown hair as if he were petting an animal.
But the night of partying and sex seemed to have finally taken its hold over Chris Redfield, who was clearly fading out of consciousness as he snuggled his head into Wesker’s shoulder, his breathing slowly evening out.
Wesker turned off the light and let them lie embraced in the near darkness of his room. He wondered, as he continued to stroke Chris’ hair, whether Chris remembered his shift started in a few hours. Whether he should wake him or leave him to sleep and punish him at work for his tardiness.
The clock was ticking on this little excursion. He and Chris wouldn’t last forever like this, cuddling and discussing marriage and trivial work, no matter how badly deep down he wanted it to. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad to let Chris sleep in once in a while, leaving only an imprint of his scent in his sheets for when Wesker got home tomorrow.
There would be a place for Chris in his future, if Chris wanted it. But would Chris still come crawling to him by that point when he needed a fix, knowing the darkest parts of Wesker’s heart? Would he still love him?
“Chris?” He whispered into the darkness, but the sleeping body entwined with his own didn’t respond. “Sweet dreams.”