Я люблю Вас

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Sergei!...Okay, fine, I don't own him. You people always have to crush my dreams, don't you?!

Summary: "It means...'I like you,' comrade. And I do; very much." Sergei/Wesker

Chapter 10: Rumors

The following Monday proved to be rather awkward for Wesker, though he did absolutely everything in his power to make that fact unapparent to the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. members.

As he stepped into the S.T.A.R.S. office, he caught Joseph and Forest snickering amongst themselves, most likely about the fun they had Saturday night. When Forest caught sight of Wesker, he held a cupped palm over the side of his mouth suspiciously and whispered something to Joseph, who replied with a hushed snicker.

Wesker raised a brow at them as they moved on, wondering why they were acting like a conspiracy against him was afoot and they were tied into it. He simply shrugged it off and headed into the break room for some coffee. Kenneth was there, getting himself a cup.

"Good morning, Sullivan." The blond gave salutation, keeping his formalities in check.

"Oh, um, good morning, sir." Kenneth clutched his cup with uneasy fingers.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, sir. I, um, I gotta go." He briskly walked past his superior, mumbling an awkward apology under his breath.

Things were really starting to get strange, and they only got more so within the next couple of minutes as more of his coworkers gave him the same treatment; either they acted really tense around him or they simply stared and gossiped amongst each other. Just as he was wondering what was going on, the Bravo team captain Enrico Marini pulled him aside into a private corner where they could converse without eavesdroppers hanging around.

"Captain Wesker..." It came out as more of a question as Enrico scrutinized him carefully.

"Yes, Captain Marini?"

"You...I'm sure you've noticed all the attention you're getting this morning."

"Yes, I have. Would you happen to know what it's all about?"

"Well..." Enrico let out a small, unsure breath. He continued hesitantly. "There is a rumor going about."

"A rumor? What rumor?"

"Well, someone in the office - I have no idea who it was - said that on Saturday night, you were seen leaving that club The Clock Tower with a man."

Wesker's pulse quickened. He tried to brush off Enrico's statement, saying, "Well, a lot of people leave places with people of the same gender."

"Yes, but apparently you slept with that man as well."

And that was when his insides writhed sickeningly. Had he been seen? Was an ignorant source simply making it up, not knowing it was actually the truth? Whomever had passed this on would soon have to make reparations with their blood, and Wesker had a pretty good idea who it might've been.

Chris looked completely flabbergasted as he was grabbed from behind, a livid voice telling him, "We need to talk," and he was pushed down the hall before being shoved in the women's bathroom.

"H-Hey! What's going-" He recognized Wesker as he stepped in after him, shutting the door behind him. "Wesker? Why did you push me in the girls' room?"

"That's CAPTAIN to you." The blond replied frostily. He made himself comfortable in front of the door, blocking it so that Chris wouldn't dare to leave. "We are in here because we need to have a private conversation and there aren't that many women working here, so we shouldn't be interrupted."

Chris shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to seem as nonchalant as he could in such unfamiliar territory. "Alright, talk. What's up?"

"There seems to be a nasty rumor about me going around the station..." The S.T.A.R.S. captain began, his voice sounding toxic, implicative. "Apparently, I left with a man Saturday night AND slept with him. You wouldn't happen to know about this, would you, Christopher?" The name slid from his tongue as filth.

Chris looked incredulous. "Me? No, sir. I didn't-" His throat gave birth to a strangled gasp as Wesker suddenly strode towards him and shoved his forearm into his neck, pushing him up against the wall and holding him there roughly. He struggled weakly, clawing at the arm thrust into his neck.

"Don't you DARE lie to me, Christopher Redfield. Remember, I'm your superior. I can spread rumors, too. Rumors that can get you fired. I also have the right connections to specific people, Christopher. I can have horrible things done to you. Or your dear sister...Would you want for that to happen, Christopher?"

Chris stopped his struggling, panting for air. "Alright, I'll tell you! Just let me go!"

Wordlessly, Wesker swiftly removed his arm from his captive's throat. "Talk." He commanded bitterly.

Chris gasped for air, leaning against the wall with his hand to his neck. He finally summoned enough breath to say, "Okay, you got me. I did say that, but that's not all there is to it."

"Oh, really?" Wesker's eyebrow arched and he crossed his arms over his chest, shifting his weight on his feet as he produced a look of mock interest. "Please, do explain."

"It was after I got sucker punched by that guy behind the club. I was outside trying to have a smoke - I was so drunk that I was trying to light empty space - and I saw you guys leaving. I was pretty pissed about what just happened, so when I went back in the club and found the guys, I told them you'd left with some guy to go fuck him." He took a step forward, sincere remorse written on his features. "Wesker, I really didn't mean for that to happen. I was drunk, so obviously I wasn't thinking. If I weren't, I would never have done that. I'm just..." His hand graced the back of his neck. "God, I'm so sorry."

Wesker knew Chris was not showering him with lies and bullshit, but drunk or not, this was something that couldn't be forgiven so easily. As much as it was the truth whether Chris knew it or not, it was still something Wesker didn't want being heard by the public ear.

Insecurely, the brunette eyed his superior. "Do you forgive me?"

"Maybe I will in the future when this all blows over - IF this blows over - and maybe we'll even share a hearty laugh about it, but right now, no."

Chris' gaze lowered to the floor, his face faltering shamefully.

The door opened, revealing a rather staggered Jill Valentine when she registered in her mind that two males were in the women's room. She shifted her gaze between them momentarily, looking as though she were trying to decipher a crossword puzzle in a language she knew not of.

"Why are you guys in here?" She finally inquired.

"Now what did I tell you, Chris?" Wesker grabbed Chris by the arm, dragging him past Jill out the door. "See, this isn't the men's room."

Jill simply watched in complete mystification as the blond led the brunette down the hall before shaking her head and stepping inside the bathroom.

The pen scrawled over the papers apathetically, trailing the black blood from it's forever present wound at its tip, forming a multitude of different words and letters. It's blood began to run out, leaving unfinished letters on the papers.

"Damn." Sergei swore on his breath and then dug through a drawer for a new pen. Almost miserably, he found one and began his writings once more. Paperwork was not something he deemed as fun - he would rather watch paint dry - therefore a lack of pen would've been a blessing at the moment.

His office door opened and he griped the pen tighter, irked someone had not bothered to knock before entering. However, when he looked up, a smile graced his face.

"Well, if it isn't comrade Wesker." He chuckled, visibly delighted to see Wesker once again. It had to have been a good week or two since he had last seen him around the Umbrella building, the only time he had seen him otherwise was when he dropped him off at his house Sunday afternoon days ago.

"Hello, Sergei."

Sergei frowned. His subordinate seemed distracted. "Comrade? Is something wrong?" He went back to his work, though he listened earnestly.

"Oh, I'm just fine, Sergei. I'm as fine as a man can be after being humiliated publicly around his place of work."

"What do you mean, comrade?"

"Chris told the guys we - you and I - slept together after we left The Clock Tower and then they told everyone around the RPD."

The Russian's pen stopped mid-stroke. "How does he know that?"

"He doesn't. He just said all that while he was still drunk. He hasn't a clue that what he spread was factual."

"And they believed him?"

"Of course they did. I didn't realize what was going on until the Bravo team captain told me."

The pen was placed down. "It was humiliating?"

"Of course it was." Wesker turned to Sergei, looking at his superior as though he had just entered the conversation for the first time. "Would that not embarrass you?"

The air around Sergei changed, growing more grave, a hint of resentment peppered on. He picked his pen up once more, scribbling on his papers in a fury of strokes and black ink. "Seeing as I am comfortable with my sexuality, no, it would not."

Wesker cringed a bit, his pushing of one of Sergei's buttons unintentional. "I hadn't meant it like that."

Sergei didn't bother to look at him. "No, it's alright, comrade. I understand."

"Sergei, hear me out." He stood in front of the desk, ignored by its owner as he busily filled out forms and whatnot. "I'm not ashamed. It's just not helping the situation."

An inquiring eye flicker upwards. "Truly?"

Wesker gave him a nod. "Yes. I'm still trying to make a decision, and me being the butt of all jokes around the RPD, pardon the pun, isn't exactly helping. Not to mention how prejudice some people are. I could be fired for this."

Sergei chuckled. "I see."

"Why are you chuckling?"

The Russian rose from his desk, strolling to the door. The lock clicked and he turned back to Wesker, wearing a deviant smile.

"Oh, God, what are you doing?"

"I don't want us to be interrupted." He approached the shorter man, a foreboding atmosphere about him.

"From what?"

Face inches from Wesker's, Sergei whispered in a husky tone, "I think you know what..."

"Here? Are you kidding? Here? Now?"

"I find the idea rather kinky, don't you?"

"I admit, yes I do, but-"

"Not to mention I do hope this will help with your decision..." He leaned in close, engulfing Wesker's lips in his own while he reached behind him and swiped his hand over his desk. Papers and petty items went flying, replaced on the piece of furniture by Wesker as Sergei hoisted him up and sat him upon it, their oral contact never breaking.

Birkin paced about the lab worried, constantly gluing his eyes to his watch. He acted as though he were about to explode in the worst panic attack ever recorded in history, until a figure entered, blond hair neatly slicked back and his clothing clean, albeit a bit wrinkled.

"Oh, thank God." Birkin released a relieved breath. "Wesker, where were you? You were supposed to be here over an hour ago!"

"I'm terribly sorry, William. Sergei needed me for something." He chose his words carefully.

"Well, it's alright. As long as you're here. Now, let me show you this new virus we're testing out..."

Wesker nodded, his eyes transfixed on Birkin as he crossed the lab, but his mind somewhere else entirely. Sergei. It seemed no matter what, that man was always popping up somewhere, whether it be in his mind or in the flesh. This didn't bother him so much as it would've a few weeks ago. In fact, he rather enjoyed it.

'Maybe we can work this out...' He thought indistinctly with an imperceptible smile on his lips.

Oh, Sergei, you horndog. XD

OMG, are Wesker and Sergei closer to getting together? Like a couple? OMG, this is exciting! :D

Remember to review and watch out for the next chapter of this fanfic whose name is hard to pronounce, so I refer to it as, "the Russian story."