WARNING!!!!!!! This story contains adult language, sexual themes, violence, and my favorite; slash! Slash is male on male entertainment, if this offends or displeases you, then click the back button now. Otherwise, enjoy! P.S. If you're reading this despite the fact that you don't like the idea of a Chris and Wesker pairing parody, I don't care. I'm not forcing you to read it. Flames will be laughed at, mostly because you're too retarded to be able to laugh at your favorite characters. I can. And I am. P.P.S., this is Bruce, the co-writer. I'm a huge fan of RE (and most likely a bigger fan THAN YOU.), and I find this concept hilarious. And I don't like gay guys, -okay that's a lie, I don't like the prissy-mcbutt-gravy ones. FYI, that was another lie, have a sense of humor. P.P.P.S. This is Wesker, moody, no-sense-of-humor Wesker. I would like to say that I find this story to be quite delightful. Thank you for your time. NOW EAT THE UROBOROS!!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the Resident Evil series nor its characters. 'Cause if I did, you'd end up with something like this. . .

Chapter Four: Genesis

Work the next day had been awkward as usual; Barry cleaned and baby talked his gun replicas. Wesker sexually nibbled on his thumb whenever he looked at Chris. Brad had been guzzling water all day because he thought he was dehydrated. Jill (in a couth manner) picked her nose. Okay, she wasn't really being discrete about it, she was practically scratching her brain and wiping the evidence on the vacant desk on the other side of hers.

Its okay, Jill. We all do it. [Looks at readers] What, I'm the only one? Wow, I'm weird. Uncomfortable moment. . .

Oh, yeah, back to the subject. And Chris was still a little confused about the whole incident at the theater. He needed someone to talk to. Someone that could consol him. The last few hours of work passed painfully slow, but once they were finally over, Chris couldn't have been more relieved. Once he arrived at his new apartment, he called his sister.

"So, has mom cooled down yet?" Chris wiggled his toes, wearing his boots all day made them feel itchy and crammed.

"Not really, she's been ranting about how she thinks you had 'relations' with who's ever in charge to get you that job. Oh, and she thinks you need more discipline. And that you need to call her more often." Claire shoved her homework to the side and pulled a motorcycle magazine out of her desk.

"Well I would if she wasn't such a-"

"Chris." Claire interrupted. She knew their mother was really hard on him, but it wasn't because she hated him. Claire convinced herself that menopause does that to women her age.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But seriously, my job's great. All I do all day is fill out reports and talk to doughnut munchers."

Claire casually flipped the page "Aren't you technically a doughnut muncher, too then?"

"No. I hate those things. They make my ass look big."

Claire's eyes bulged, suddenly feeling nauseous with thoughts of her brother scarfing doughnuts and getting fat. "CHRIS REDFIELD! You're making me wanna puke up my dinner!"

"It might not be so bad coming up, what'd you eat?" As soon as the word 'eat' escaped his lips, his tummy rumbled angrily as a reminder to feed it.

"I'm in college. What else do college kids eat?" She flipped another page.

"I don't know? Remember, I'm the 'poor lost baby that won't listen to his mommy and go to school like normal good little babies'. Grr." He started ranting about his mother again. Then went back to the subject without missing a beat, "I've known lots of college girls, so I'm gonna go with dick. The answer is 'what is dick', Alex?"

Claire ignored him, glaring holes through the phone and impersonating Alex Trebeck from Jeopardy "No, I'm sorry, CHRISTOPHER, the correct answer is top Raman. 'What is top Raman'. Now you've fallen to negative seven-thousand dollars."

"Ouch."

"That's what you get." Her voice had a tinge of humor. But mostly irritation.

"No, I cut my finger." Chris' voice was muffled because his finger was in his mouth.

Claire raised an eyebrow "Doing what?"

"Cutting open a can of tomato soup with my old Air Force knife." He pouted to himself. If his mommy was there, she'd kiss it for him.

Sad Face.

"That's still Whatcha get. Just stir the soup really well and you won't taste the blood." She looked at her clock "Hey, Chris, I gotta go. I need to get this project done before three. I have to get up at six to get ready for school."

"Damn, woman. You're only getting three hours of sleep? That sucks!"

Claire tilted her head at the sight of a man in her magazine wearing nothing but chaps. "Yeah, you don't know the half of it; every morning everybody in the class drags their feet in and moaning when the teacher says good morning. We're all like zombies, dude! It's funny. But it sucks. And we keep doing it."

"Hey, sis, can I ask you something?" Chris changed the subject, finally remembering why he called her in the first place.

Claire knew that tone, and the fact that he called her sis. He only did that when he was between a rock and a hard place. "…Did you fuck up again?"

"No. Um…" he paused for a moment "…One of my co-workers have a problem. -Not me."

"Go on?"

"Well, I don't know why he told me this, since obviously I'm not gay, but he's been having all these weird feelings and stuff around our Captain. I don't know what to do. I mean what to tell him, my co-worker."

Claire blinked a few times. "Well have you talked to Wesker about it yet?"

"No."

"Well, I think you should talk to him for your 'co-worker'. Wesker might even like you- I mean your co-worker back."

He knew deep down it was a bad idea to call her from the start. Of course she helped him figure out what to do, but now she knew. Wait, wait, wait, now she had ASSUMPTIONS. Yes, assumptions. Nothing more. "Thanks, Claire, you're awesome. Don't tell mom."

"K. Love you, bye." She hung up the phone, "Finally, now I can get some work done. I thought he'd never shut up."

Chris closed his cell phone, sighing to himself "Wesker, you know that time in the theater? Well, I wouldn't mind if we did it again." He shook his head, wasn't any good. "I want to keep doing stuff like that. You know, since I'm single and-"

He was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. "Hello?"

"Hello, Chris." Wesker's husky voice answered. "We've been called in to an emergence over at the Up Town Warehouse. There's a disgruntled employee with a gun. Do you know the way?"

Chris held the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he pulled his socks back on. "Yeah. I'll be there in less than ten minutes!" he hung up his phone.

Yay! Chris' first field assignment!

Chris joined his Captain and the others at the front door. Forest was among them, most likely because he was the best sniper of the S.T.A.R.S.

Wesker was checking the clip on his nine-caliber 92FS "Alright, everyone, the objective is to obtain the mad man with any means necessary. Jill, Barry, I want you two to take this door. Chris and I shall take the back. Brad and Forest, you two take the roof," he looked at Forest "I need you to wait at the sunroof. Load your rifle with tranqs and fire when you have a clear shot. Move out!"

"Eh," Brad raised his hand in protest "It'd probably be a good idea if I waited here just in case the bad guy called for backup."

Wesker raised an eyebrow "And what if he did, Brad?"

Brad was almost trembling in fear "Good point, Captain, so on second thought I'll go with Forest."

Forest rolled his eyes "Good goin'," he thought for a moment "chicken …shit?"

"Why don't you take your redneck butt back to North Carolina?" Brad spat.

"Hey, buddy, you and rednecks have a lot in common." He informed.

Brad crossed his arms, "And what's that?"

"Ya'll both fuck your cousins!" he stuck his tongue out.

"Okay, children." Wesker said "That's enough."

"Alright, Capt.!" Forest shouldered his sniper rifle and threw an arm around Brad "Let's go, cuz."

Brad started going up the ladder, with the help of Forest, of course. He turned around, panic obvious on his features "Wait! Don't leave me alone with him!!!"

"Keep it movin', pretty boy." Forest smacked his ass "And squeal like a pig, I like that!"

Jill and Barry stood at the front door, signaling them that they were in position.

Wesker nodded "Chris, let's go."

Chris followed Wesker around the building, going through the things he'd practiced to say to the man in his head.

"You ready for this, Chris?" Wesker placed a hand on Chris' shoulder.

Chris just nodded nervously, looking deeply into his Captain's sunglasses.

"Open and clear!" Wesker kicked the door down.

"Right!" he readied his weapon, stepping into the building. No one was in sight "Clear!"

Wesker followed cautiously "Good work, you're moving up quickly as my best man."

"…I…actually wanted to talk to you about that, Wesker." Chris looked down bashfully, then back up at the Captain.

"Save it for later, Chris. We have a mission to complete." Wesker slicked his hair back, seemingly knowing what Chris was really talking about.

They ran through the factory area towards the control room.

"Sh, wait," Wesker pressed his back firmly to the wall, pulling Chris with him. As his hand rested on the young man's chest he could feel the heartbeat fluttering underneath.

They heard footsteps walking towards them, "Yeah, the doctor said to keep putting the cream on it and it should stop bleeding."

Wesker gave Chris a brief nod. As soon as the men were in view, he grabbed the closest one by the arm and threw him to Chris. He pulled the other man into a chokehold and knocked him out.

Chris twisted his captive's arm and slammed his elbow next to the man's neck. He limply fell to the ground. "Ha ha, that was awesome!"

"There'll be plenty more later. Let's go." He motioned the other back into formation as they approached the control room door. He touched his earpiece, "Barry, come in."

"We're in position. On your signal, Captain." Barry answered.

He nodded to himself, "Do you copy, Forest?"

"Yes, sir. I've got the hostages in my sight. All I need now is for our pretty little host to show his pretty little ass."

"Good, alright. On my count; one," everyone readied their weapons "two," Wesker and Barry placed their free hands on the door handles "three!"

The doors flung open, the assailant reflexively scattered bullets everywhere and then grabbed one of the hostages.

The man struggled "Please don't kill me, Ted, you know I gotta family!"

Chris glanced up just quick enough to catch Barry wincing. He gulped, "Everyone back off! We weren't sent here to get anyone killed!"

"Chris, you idiot, what're you doing?!" Jill yelled.

He ignored her, looking straight at Barry "You heard the hostage. He's got kids, too, Barry."

Barry inhaled sharply, slowly lowering his gun to the side and stepping towards Chris and Wesker.

"Barry, not you too!" Jill protested, yet backing away as well.

The crazed man shook his gun at Chris, backing towards the rest of the hostages "You're a smart guy, don't want these losers to die! Hahaha, 'cus I'll do it!"

In the next instant a mix of a gunshot, shattering glass, and screaming people occurred. The lunatic's arm tensed up, pulling the trigger as he fell. More screams. The S.T.A.R.S. members swarmed the armed man. He was out cold.

"Did I get 'im, Capt.?" Forest called from the roof.

"What do you think?" Wesker shook his head as Marvin entered. The police was known for their impeccable timing.

"Good work, ALPHA team-"

"Hey, what about me?" Forest interrupted.

"…You too, son." Marvin rolled his eyes. He placed a hand of the Captain's shoulder, "We'll take it from here, Wesker. Thank you."

Jill glared at Chris "What the hell was that, anyway?"

"Tactics. If he thought we had the upper hand, he'd stay where he was, and then probably even start picking off the hostages…'Make him feel like he's in control, he freaks out and backs into a corner. It gave Forest a clean shot and nobody got hurt." He faintly smiled.

"Sheer genius!" Marvin tapped his chin as his officers cuffed the man and moved him to a medical transporter.

"Come with me, Chris." Wesker ordered.

Chris silently followed him outside to his car.

"First of all; that was the most reckless, unthought-out 'plan' I've ever heard of."

He flinched.

"And it worked flawlessly. We make a great team, you and I." Wesker patted his right arm.

Chris inhaled through his teeth, tightly gripping his arm "Argh-"

"What's the matter?" Wesker stepped closer to him. He saw blood seep between Chris' fingers.

"Almost flawless." He weakly joked.

He opened the door to his backseat, sitting Chris down "Let me see it-" He pulled his hand away, "it just looks like a flesh wound." He leaned over Chris, reaching his hand under the passenger seat and pulled out a first aid kit. He set the kit in the young man's lap and began to clean the wounded area of blood.

Chris tried to shrug away "I'll be fine, seriously."

Wesker ignored him, spraying an antibiotic on it. He looked up at Chris as he pulled out the bandages "So what was it that you wanted to tell me earlier?"

He winced when the bandages wrapped around his bicep, he suddenly felt a surge of anxiety. Not sure what he'd say, "Never mind it…It's not important."

Wesker tied off the bandage. "…If you say so." He placed a hand on Chris' forearm to keep balance while he reached to put the kit back.

"I just have to know-" Chris gulped, finally finding his courage. He caressed Wesker's face with his free hand to pull him into a kiss. Once their lips connected, Chris felt over heated and knots forming in his stomach, afraid of Wesker's reaction. They melted as soon as he heard the first aid box hit the floor, the lid came open and it's contents spilt onto the floor.

Wesker lifted the freed hand to touch Chris' face, gently thumbing his chin. He slid his tongue between the young man's lips, and Chris' tongue shyly brushed against it. This kiss was softer, more controlled than the first. It was all the better to Wesker, mostly because Chris made the first move.

Which is totally hot. Am I Right?

His thoughts were brought back to Earth when Chris ran his hands explored his body, finding their way under his shirt to tease at his nipples.

Yeah, I am so right…. Lay'sigh.

He grunted slightly, feeling himself grow uncomfortably stiff behind his leather pants. He nipped at Chris' bottom lip to keep himself from groaning too loud. Chris slid backward further into the car. Wesker grinned, closing the door behind him. He leaned over Chris; they were already practically dry humping each other. His right leg slid under Chris' left as Wesker stripped him of upper clothing. He roughly kissed and tormented Chris' neck, moving torturously slow as he passed his collarbone and chest. Stopping at his navel until he unzipped his pants. Chris' breath stopped short when he felt Wesker's hot and wet tongue slide across his head, consuming secretions. Chris bit his lip so hard that it drew blood, and he watched Wesker sit up, removing his shirt and sliding his pants to his thighs. Chris stared at his glory, not even paying attention to the fact that Wesker looked rather silly still wearing his gloves and sunglasses. But even if he did, he probably wouldn't have care. He sat up enough to lick the tip. The innocent 'may I?' look that Chris shot him drove Wesker wild. Almost enough for him to cream his pants…er, I mean Chris' face. . .

As you can probably tell, I'm feeling kinda lazy. This one probably sucks, but oh well. It's done, right? ^_^.

"Why don't you take your redneck butt back to North Carolina?" Brad spat.

-This is quite possibly my favorite line in this long-ass chapter, solely because I am from North Carolina. I randomly got the idea to pick on the redneck stereotypes as soon as I had Forest go along with them to apprehend the disgruntled employee. I was like 'hey, it'd be funny as shit if someone told Forest to go back to where he was from.' And I have no idea where that is. So, I like picking on myself, this was a perfect moment to do so and make it more obvious. (in this story all the lame comebacks are something I'd say, if anything at all. In the Secret Life of Chris and Wesker, my personality shines through Rebecca Chambers. Who, in the story, is a total obsessive fag-hag. Do note that I don't own a Phantasy-Chris doll, I just wish I did :o)~.)