This will be another piece of mine that I will not finish without at least one review. Inspired by a picture on deviantArt art/for-one-night-let-s-not-fight-322852162

Pairing: WeskerxChris

Warnings for language and sexual themes (yaoi, in case you can't tell by the pairing)

Don't like? Don't read it, darling, no one is forcing you.

I, sadly, do not own Chris. Wesker still refuses to sell him to me. .

Note: I would like to thank Salysha for giving me her advice! Such an awesome writer and critic! So I think I got everything fixed up in Chapter 1, I will do Chapter 2 next. i'm sick though, so I can't say when.

also, a buddy of mine on dA brought up a valid point. This piece is in my Devotion/Sacrifice Yourself/Chris, Corrupted series. Soooooo I need to add a certain faithful follower to Wesker. Cause even psychotic blond scientists need a wingman...er, woman. sorry, I feel she is vital to this plot now. Hehehe

XxX

"For one night, let's not fight."

These words were said, groaned actually, in a dark bar in a seedy corner of town where no one asked your name and you paid in cash. There were so many scantily clad women dancing around, rubbing on any guy that moved, offering good times in exchange for a decent amount of money that Chris was concerned he might contract some STD just by inhaling. Considering the shit he had endured over the past decade or so, death by syphilis or AIDS would certainly be disappointing. there were four or five men, bikers, actually, playing pool and a young woman in black sitting at the bar, pounding away at her laptop and glaring at anyone who touched her. A doberman pincer that looked like it suffered from rabies sat near her, snarling at whoever his master directed her attention at. Chris was fairly sure she had a butterfly knife on her hip.

Why was Chris Redfield here?

No one knew him.

Why was Albert Wesker here?

Who the fuck knew?

Chris had had it. With what? What in the world could possibly have Chris Redfield so frustrated that he was drinking-still in uniform-in a rundown bar with more scum occupying it than a prison toilet?

Everything.

Absolutely fucking everything.

Jill. Sheva. BSAA. Mina. Parker. Clive. Sheva. Dave. Reynard. Kieth. Finn. Kirk. Sheva. Josh. Sheva. Basically, everyone he knew except Claire.

He was fed up with running around the world chasing after a particular blond British man who had at one point been his captain. That was why, when the door opened and said blonde British man walked in, Chris was torn between running, shooting, and flat out banging his head into the bar.

BAM!

The bar was a nice place to put his head, Chris thought.

There was a soft chuckle from behind him and Chris groaned, not moving and simply grumbling, "Go away."

"Good evening, Christopher. How many have you had?" the British voice purred and Chris held up 2 fingers. "Not enough to deal with you," the brunet grumbled and sat up just enough to sip from his 2nd bottle.

"Then don't."

"You're sitting right next to me. It's impossible for me NOT to deal with you."

"Nothing is impossible for Christopher Redfield. Well, except slamming a revolving door. Though you did give it one hell of a try..." Wesker actually chuckled laughed at the memory that had taken place so long ago, before the Arklay Mountain incident.

In spite of himself, Chris laughed as well, sitting up all the way as Wesker ordered a shot of whiskey, giving the bartender a look of loathing as the young woman smiled at Chris seductively, an action that the brunet missed entirely.

"Vickers dared me to do it," Chris chuckled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar, his cheek resting against one palm so he was facing Wesker, the other hand occupied by his still half-full beer bottle.

"So...are you going to try to shoot me?" The smooth voice drawled as the owner of it downed the shot and ordered another.

Chris groaned and shook his head, tempted to headbutt the bar again and tell the British man to go fuck himself. "I'm too tired for that shit. For one night, let's not fight..."

"Oh? Then...perhaps I can suggest another strenuous activity?" Wesker looked straight ahead as he said it, swallowing the whiskey. His voice had an edge to it that made Chris shiver.

"Yea? Like what?"

XxX

'What' exactly, consisted of Chris sitting on a counter in the bathroom, the door locked and Wesker's arms around his waist. They're bodies were flush against each other and Wesker's lips were latched onto Chris's neck, alternating between sucking, biting and licking. Chris' whole body trembled as he felt the warmth of Wesker, smelled his spicy cologne that the blond had worn even as a captain in STARS. A part of Chris told him that he needed to hate this man, kill him for everything that he had done. A larger, much louder part screamed at him to shut up and enjoy the blond's attention.

Chris moaned as one cold hand slipped down his pants and teased his hardened cock. Wesker kissed him hard, slipping his tongue forcefully into the brunet's mouth. Chris gasped and whined as Wesker squeezed his aching member.

The blonde pulled away slightly and whispered right into Chris' ear, "If you continue to make those noises, Christopher, we shall have to go to the hotel at which I am staying."

"Fuck it," Chris hissed, grabbing Wesker by the back of the neck and kissing the blond. They separated, a thin thread of saliva still connecting their tongues.

"Let's go," Chris said, grinding his hips against the blond.

Wesker smirked pulled the brunet off the counter. Chris didn't notice that his cell phone had fallen out of his pocket.
XxX

Chapter 2 will be updated soon!