I don't own any of this except for OC. :3 Please tell me how I did, because this is my first ever posted fan fiction. My OTP. Enjoy~

Albert Wesker lay in his bed, his eyes closed, awake. After such a long day he just wanted some rest, something he couldn't have in his line of work. Everything was so tense. You always had to watch your back. This wasn't the only thing preventing sleep, though.

Footsteps were coming from downstairs. He had guards, of course, but he knew that all of his men wore boots. Their boots made a distinctive thud noise every time they hit the floor. These footsteps, though, were quiet yet loud at the same time, as if someone were trying to sneak about.

Wesker was a wanted man, no doubt about it. There weren't many people after him, maybe because there were not many "people" left in this world at all. Only the B. , his men, and the former S.T.A.R.S members, now known as the "BSAA"
The BSAA were the ones after him. Especially Chris Redfield. Ah, that Chris. Wesker has wanted to kill him ever since the incident at the mansion. He was the little bratty boy who thought he could get away with anything, just because he was Special Forces. Why couldn't he get his hands around Chris's neck?

The footsteps were getting louder, closer. Wesker just lay there with his eyes closed as he waited for his intruder to enter his room. He knew he could get out of a fight quickly, let alone kill someone.

The intruder opened the door and stepped inside Wesker's room. Wesker found out immediately that the intruder was male, hearing the masculinity in the assailant's voice as he swore under his breath. They both knew this was not going to end clean.

Chris Redfield walked into the room as silently as he could. He soon found out this was the room he was looking for. He wielded his bloodied up metal baseball bat like an axe, getting ready to strike.

He remembered where all that blood had come from. Wesker had many guards, but they weren't too bright. One whack was what it took, and his sister, Claire, would drag them into the shadows and keep them quiet for the time being.

Chris swore as he realized he forgot his gun. Who would approach this man without a gun? That bat was probably going to be ripped in half by Wesker, since he was a superhuman B.O.W thing, or some shit like that.

Chris didn't know what to think when he had learned that Wesker had been behind all of this chaos. His feelings towards his ex boss had taken a toll on his emotional state. Even Claire had started to notice on the way here, and Chris hated himself for it.

Chris walked toward the edge of Wesker's bed, brandishing his metal bat. He stared at the white sheet of paper Wesker had become. His skin was very pale against his combat suit. Chris was amazed at the peaceful sight of this man. He wasn't wearing his usual sunglasses, which made him look even more peaceful.

Chris walked all the way to the head of the bed, bending over Wesker's motionless body to see if there was a good spot to hit at. He looked back at Wesker's face. There. The head was the weak point on anyone, especially zombies. Chris frowned and raised the bat over his head; about to slam it on Wesker's face, when all of a sudden, Wesker's eyes shot open. Wesker moved as fast as light and knocked the metal bat out of Chris's hands, pinning Chris's arms to the wall behind him

"Can't a man get any peace for himself around here?" Said Wesker as his eyes blazed a fiery red. Wesker knew it was Chris all along. Who else would it have been? Wesker looked at him in the face, waiting for a response, before he saw a hint of awkwardness pass over the assailant's face.

Chris kicked out at the space between Wesker's legs. Wesker buckled, but only slightly. This gave Chris the chance to run for the door, knowing he wasn't going to live through the fight.

"Where are you going, Chris?" Wesker snarled as he shut the door, using his fast speed to get there. Chris looked shocked, but behind his eyes shone watered-down hatred. Or was it sadness? "Don't you know it is rude to leave someone's house without saying goodbye?"

Wesker pounced on top of Chris, sending them both onto the bed. Wesker held Chris's arms down while wrapping his legs around the intruder's, holding his legs down as well. Chris felt completely uncomfortable as Wesker lay on top of him, holding him down. He felt his face turn red as he looked into the red irises of Wesker's eyes.

"Get... off of me..." Chris said as he squirmed. It did no good. The awkwardness expanded as he did so.

"Why should I? You came here to knock me unconscious and shoot me. You know better than that, Christopher…" Wesker said as he reached down to grab Chris's gun, which was annoyingly jabbing into his hip.

"I wouldn't grab that if I were you..." Chris said as his face turned ten shades of red brighter.

With Wesker lying on top of him, Chris couldn't think straight. He felt every muscle that Wesker had move as he moved to grab for what he thought was Chris's gun.

"I-I didn't bring... my gun..." said Chris. Wesker gave him the most incredulous look, until he started to laugh.

"I had never thought you looked at me that way," said Wesker as he laughed some more. He sat upright on Chris. "I don't know what to say. I am very... Flattered." Wesker smiled evilly. "I think I'm going to enjoy this..."