(AN: Well, this might come as a bit of a surprise, guys, since we're not really known for being pro-yaoi. But after a heart to heart, we decided that maybe we were being a little narrow minded. After all, slash, when done well and handled maturely, can actually be a very enjoyable read. So this is our first ever slashfic, featuring one of the RE fandom's favourite pairings, Wesker/Birkin. We hope you enjoy it, and are pleasantly surprised by the new direction we have taken with our writngs.
Shak and Captain)
It was just another day in Gerbilling City. The denizens of this Midwestern town were going about their daily business as ordinary people are wont to do. But underneath the impressive structure of the Gerbilling City YMCA (the Young Men's Cop Association) lay a secret. A filthy lesson which the ordinary people were yet to learn…
Gaybrella. Yes, the lubricant manufacturers who kept most of the city in jobs and anal condoms, were hiding a darker, more illicit secret behind their family friendly façade of raunchy hardcore gay bumsex. THEY WERE DOING EQUATIONS. Oh yeah, and something about zombies. But that part is irrelevant, merely an insignificant and not really worth mentioning backdrop to this, our epic tale of brown romance. Yes, even the legions of the undead, and the horror of the piss poor stylings of our prose, could not compare.
Albert Patricia Wesker had been working for Gaybrella for some time now. So far his working life had gone smoothly, smooth like a rent boy's bottom, but he was harbouring a secret which threatened to ruin his career.
He was…he thought he might be…could it really be possible…?
Albert was starting to wonder if he was starting to harbour the secret that…
He might fancy boys.
How would anyone in Gaybrella (being the notoriously homophobic organisation that it clearly was) ever accept him if they suspected? He'd never get invited to the boys night outs at the Ladyboys of Bancock clubs ever again!
Albert had always had a fairly healthy sexual appetite. Like most normal men, his masturbatory fantasies would include perfectly normal things, like…um…shooting his load while standing in front of an open window thinking about being the king of Gerbilling City. But now that normal and not at all ridiculous routine had given way to something more sinister.
The object of these affections was sitting before him. He was wearing a pretty pink dress with matching lipstick and high heels, and of course, the standard Gaybrella regulation lab-coif.
Ah, William Birkin. He was like the Peter Pan of Gaybrella. Despite being about a thousand years old, except younger than Albert, except fuck it we can't be bothered to pay attention to the timeline…he was as youthful as a princess. Except a sexy princess. Oh yes. He'd love to put his erect member in his mouth and stick his finger up his…
Moving on swiftly. William Birkin, meanwhile, in a total surprise and plot twist worthy of the most salient and elite works of fiction, such as Sunset Beach, was also having not dissimilar thoughts, also involving ridiculous and pointless badly written rambling monologue stream of consciousness shite, and a fantastically offensive overuse of tautologies and double negatives.
He was dreaming, was our Willie B. He was dreaming, as his blue blue blue blue blue blue (did we mention they were blue) eyes gazed off into the distance. He was dreaming about being on a pirate ship.
(this is a dream sequence)
"Oh no!" William simpered, "I have been captured by pirates!" He was wearing his favourite pink dress, and his bosoms were heaving.
"Avast!" Pirate Captain Albert Patricia Wesker was waving his pork sword about while all the seamen (HAHAHAHA) were cockjousting. "You are now a prisoner of the Good Ship Shak and Captain Are Really Mature! You can either walk the plank or receive my man penis in your poo hole!"
"Oh…I am overcome…" William fainted into Pirate Captain Albert's strong arms…
(this is not a dream sequence any more)
"Oh!" Birkin fell backwards and Wesker caught him in his big strong arms. Just like in the dream. Isn't this a clever bit of writing?
William's fair complexion blushed like the colour of roses, and Albert felt his romantic love pole become erotic and stiff.
"That's some mighty fine equations you have there, Will." Albert cleared his throat. He knew what he'd like to clear. (All the poo out of William's rectum, by the way, that's what we're getting at.) "Perhaps…perhaps…"
"…perhaps I could show you them in detail in your love dungeon?" William gasped at his own boldness. Albert felt himself growing hot under the coif.
(Later on in Albert's love dungeon)
"My, what a manly room you have. Do you ride a motorbike? I think motorbikes are very manly," William twittered like the braindead idiot that he was.
"Yes, I do." Albert giggled like a schoolgirl, "But I can think of something else I'd rather ride."
"What's that?" William asked coyly.
"YOUR BUM!" Albert boomed in a manly and sexy way and William felt his mini snake of love and equations turn into a twig of erect happiness.
"Oh Albert!" William sighed, "Please insert your long and thin vaulting pole in the Olympics of gay love into my cavern of feaces."
"Yes, I will insert my disk into your A drive," Wesker growled throatily with lust. He brought out a condom. The condom had a coif. It was also pink, pink like the colour of the love that they would not be having. Because their love would be brown. Brown like the brown of a thousand brown coloured cats.
"You are sweet like chocolate," William sighed as he dropped his skirt and grabbed his ankles, awaiting the man on man pleasure fountain which was about to spurt into his bowels.
"Speaking of chocolate," Albert replied in a surge of needless brown innuendo. He entered William in his special out hole and William squealed like a pig. A pink pig. Pink unlike this.
As Albert gave William a loving enema of semen, William thought about how happy he was.
(Thirty seconds later)
"Oh Albert, you are so sexy," William gasped, spent from their chocolate lovemaking.
"And you are so sexy too. I want to have your babies."
"Well, I have a confession to make," William said awkwardly. "Sherry is our baby. You've actually been asleep for ten years, after we had sex, and I stole some of your baby batter out of my anus and fused it with mine to make a love child with the help of Captain Planet…"
Then there was some ridiculous, overblown wangsty plot stuff, which we'll skip because we're too fucking lazy and let's face it, it's just a piss poor excuse to write about men putting their cocks in each others asses some more.
The (rear) end.