Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.

Warning: None

Authors Note: I've had a few questions about how much it would hurt to get grazed by a bullet. I looked up info on it (and there is very little reliable information, sadly), but basically depending on how much skin is taken off, you've going to have stitches and be really sore for a few days. So some painkillers are needed to numb the area for a while, and while it's not extreme pain, it's pretty uncomfortable for a while. Anyone who's had stitches knows how annoying they can be! Granted I had mine on my lip when I busted it open... Anyways, I wanna thank all you guys for being amazing! Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter! I also wanna dedicate it to my wonderful beta, MissPumpkinHead who has stated how much she loves this chapter

Chapter 11- Reality

There is a fine line between dreams and reality; it's up to you to draw it. ~B. Quilliam~

Staring at the buttons on his phone, Chris was currently sitting on the floor under the wall charger, tapping it against his thigh every so often. Looking away from the numbers, Chris glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper sitting next to him with a number scribbled across it.

Sighing once more, Chris dialled the number and waited for what seemed like an eternity before someone answered.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar female voice carried through to Chris, airy and light like she had run to grab the phone.

"Uh… hi, is uh, Claire Redfield there?" Chris asked, scratching the back of his head. He really hoped he didn't get the wrong number from his Uncle.

"Oh yeah, just a sec!" Chris heard some crashing in the background and the yelling of his sister's name before some hurried whispers were exchanged and Claire could be heard.

"Hello?"

"Hey Claire, it's Chris… your absentee brother."

"Oh! Oh! Chris, I'm so happy you called!" Claire exclaimed, excitement blooming in her voice. "I didn't expect a call for a while, seeing as how I just moved and, well… you haven't called for a few months."

Chris closed his eyes and slouched forward, annoyed with himself for causing Claire to not depend on him to even make a phone call. "Sorry, things have been a little crazy around here. Been given actual missions to carry through, despite the fiasco two weeks ago… which I guess I didn't tell you about on account of never calling."

"Hey now, you don't need to make excuses, Chris. I understand," Claire said with no disappointment in her voice. "But there was a fiasco a few weeks ago? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Captain of my unit was grazed by a bullet, though. But we're all fine; it just shook the team up."

"Oh… that doesn't sound so fun. But as long as you're all right and finding things to fill the time! Last we talked you said you were getting bored."

"Ha, yeah… no more," Chris said, running a hand through his messy hair. It was true; the STARS unit was becoming increasingly popular when it came to serving during missions in Raccoon.

With the media highlighting the drug bust, the panic and hysteria surrounding drugs in the city once again rose, causing more and more busts to be made with the STARS unit at the head of the charge. At the same time, however, new cases in regards to anti-Umbrella situations also began to take a toll on the city, and in turn, a toll on the STARS unit.

Where there used to be no action to be found, suddenly a large influx in cases came pouring into the STARS office- stretching the team tight. But Chris was starting to get back into the crazy swing of things, the atmosphere reminding him a lot of his days in the Air Force, which brought an air of comfort and familiarity to him.

"It's actually getting a little stressful for all of us- we're getting stretched pretty tight."

"But you sound happy," Claire said, laughing softly. "You sound like you did when you were in the Air Force. I'm glad."

Chris smiled and leaned back against the wall, shifting slightly to stop his butt from going numb. "Yeah, and you sound pretty happy too! Started College, moved into a dorm…"

"Yup! Things are crazy here, but it's a good crazy. My dorm is really nice; all the girls who live here are really sweet and helpful to us freshmen. I'm most excited about my classes, though!"

Chris couldn't help but laugh softly, amused by how much of a dork his sister was. "Man, you're such a nerd, Claire."

"Hey now, I like my nerdy-ness, thank you very much," Claire said, trying to defend herself.

"Okay, as long as you're happy with it…"

"I am… anyways, you should probably hang up on me now. You sound tired, and I know it's getting late and you work early tomorrow, no doubt." Claire sounded like their mother, causing Chris to shake his head and let out a fake pitiful moan.

"Fine, fine, make me get some beauty rest," Chris said, ending his pitiful little moan with a long sigh.

"Yeah, you need all the beauty rest you can get, Chris," Claire responded, causing Chris to gasp on the other end.

"You're heartless, Claire… but I love you. Stay out of trouble, alright?" Chris said, voice becoming more serious.

"I will, you do the same… and next time… don't wait so long to call, okay?"

"Right, I won't. Promise… I'll talk to you soon." Pressing the off button, Chris awkwardly stood up and placed the phone back on its receiver, feeling a little bad. He'd have to work harder to keep in contact with his little sister.

**XX**

"Can I go home yet?"

Glancing up from his stack of papers, Wesker looked at Chris for a moment, his sunglasses discarded as he tried to get through stacks and stacks of reports. "Why?"

"Because it's ten o'clock, everyone else has left, and I'm exhausted. My eyes are burning, Captain," Chris moaned out, chin resting on his own stack of papers on his desk.

"Everyone else is home because they did not put off their paperwork until Friday, unlike you. Now stop complaining, Christopher. It's rather unbecoming."

"I'm almost done, though! Can't I finish the rest on Monday?"

"No."

"Fuck you," Chris said, although with little heart behind the words. Wesker looked up from his papers and eyed Chris a moment before turning his attention back down to the stack- now completely used to Chris' outbursts..

Going back to his work, Chris scribbled further notes, added dates, signed his name, and cussed out paperwork for another ten minutes before he found his eyes slowly closing, the need to sleep overcoming him.

He didn't know how long he had been dozing for, but he was awoken when Wesker tossed a foam ball at his head, making him shoot awake and bat his hands around in an attempt to fight off the now-phantom ball.

"W-what was that?" Chris asked, eyes wide as he looked at Wesker, who was standing up and putting his jacket on.

"A foam ball Brad used to toss around the room until it was lost under a desk. One of the cleaning ladies found it and placed it on my desk, and I find it to be a rather useful projectile. In any matter, get up and grab your jacket- we're going out."

"W-we're going… out?" Chris asked, numerous ideas flashing through his mind, the most prominent one being Wesker killing him in the back alley.

"Yes, it is Friday and you are clearly unable to work anymore, I do not wish to be stuck inside this drab office for another hour, and I believe I owe you for helping me a few weeks ago. Therefore, we are going out for a drink."

"Together?"

"Yes."

"Oh… okay," Chris mumbled, standing up to grab his jacket. Slipping it on, Chris followed Wesker out of the office, wondering exactly what was going on. He didn't want to say 'no' to Wesker, especially when there was a strong possibility that he wasn't going to be killed.

But all joking aside, Chris was a little excited to speak to Wesker alone and on a more personal level. Ever since the strange exchange of emotions a few weeks ago, Chris found himself even more confused in regards to his feelings about his Captain. Beforehand it had been a simple crush mixed with a longing to have something he knew he couldn't.

But what happened a few weeks ago sent Chris' emotions spiralling. For some reason, Chris figured that maybe if he could talk to Wesker for a bit he'd realize that he had no personal feelings towards him, and that what he had thought he felt weeks ago was simply the effects of the painkillers on the injured man's judgement.

No matter how much Chris wished Wesker wanted him back, a large part of him knew it was impossible- and he wanted the feelings he carried for the man to recede as soon as possible in order for him to get his life back on track. And the best way to do that would to be rejected.

Completely and utterly rejected.

"So, where are we going?" Chris asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets as the two men walked out of the police office and down one of the main rain-soaked streets. It had just finished raining in Raccoon City, coating the streets with a thin sheen of water, making it seem cleaner and brighter under the street lights' reflection. Smiling, Chris took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh smell of rain.

"To a small establishment I know a few blocks away. They have my favourite brand of scotch," Wesker replied, gently shoving his sunglasses further up on his nose.

"Figured you'd be a scotch man," Chris said, snatching glances at Wesker out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't wait to be over this silly crush. "I'm more of a beer guy myself."

"Mmm, I thought as much."

Turning a corner, Wesker stopped outside of a small brick building and opened the door, holding it open for Chris to enter.

"Oh, thanks," Chris mumbled, stepping into the dimly lit bar. Dark mahogany chairs sat beside equally dark tables in the small location, little candles lighting a small portion of the tables to those who wished to watch the light reflect off of their drinks. Against the wall sat the bar, expensive-looking display cases showing off equally expensive liquors and spirits.

A young woman stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses as an older gentleman sat on one of the stools, business jacket discarded as he relaxed before going home, no doubt to the family. Other than that, the rest of the occupants of the bar were hidden in the shadows, voices low and soft as they spoke to one another in seductive drawls.

Chris felt entirely out of place.

Stepping in after Chris, Wesker strode to the bar like he owned the place with Chris trailing behind, trying not to bump into the chairs and tables placed along the path. Sitting down on one of the stools beside his Captain, Chris rested his arms on the counter and looked at all of the bottles in the cabinets while the bartender approached them.

"I'll have the usual," Wesker supplied, making Chris raise an eyebrow. He figured Wesker was a regular patron, but he didn't think the man was regular enough to have a 'usual'. The woman nodded and looked at Chris expectantly.

"Uh… whatever's on tap, I guess," he said, sending the woman one of his winning smiles.

It didn't work too well. She simply nodded and went to prepare their drinks while Wesker pulled out a small notebook from his jacket pocket and began flipping through it. Watching Wesker for a bit, Chris let his eyes wander to the man's hands, watching one long finger slowly flip through the sheets as if to tease the young man before him.

"How's your arm feeling?" Chris asked after the bartender brought them their drinks. Placing his notebook back in his jacket pocket, Wesker took a small sip of his scotch before answering.

"Better, thank you. I am happy to no longer need the sling… although I wish something could be done about the scar." Frowning, Wesker unconsciously went to touch his arm softly before letting his hand drop to the bar's counter top.

"You don't like scars?" Chris asked, shifting his body so he could speak to Wesker easier.

"No, I find them unbecoming and far too reflective for my tastes. Most scars bring back unwanted memories, and I find being shot in the arm an unwanted memory," Wesker replied, turning his head slightly to look at Chris' new position.

"I have to say I disagree. I think scars can be beautiful, even if they warrant unwanted memories. They make us who we are, and the creation of someone is beautiful. It takes a million scars to make us who we are, and we should embrace every one of them." Shrugging, Chris took a sip of his beer as Wesker turned ever so slightly closer to Chris.

"That is rather true, I must admit… I never expected something so deep from you, Christopher," Wesker replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Just buy me a few more drinks and I'll be fucking Plato," Chris said, smiling before that sound hit him.

It was soft and quiet, an elegant purr to the beginning before it evened out with a low and mirthful tone.

Wesker was laughing.

It was an honest laugh, too. Not one that he sometimes faked when Barry told him a joke, or when he was being sarcastic about something. No, it was a genuine laugh that Chris had caused.

"I can only imagine what you would be like intoxicated," Wesker said, the laughter dying down, leaving him with a small smile.

Chris found himself wanting to make Wesker laugh again.

**XX**

The two men left the bar pleasantly buzzed as a slight drizzle began in the air. They hadn't had enough to get either of them drunk, but their senses were slightly dulled, making everything warmer and less harsh. Chris had forgotten about 'Operation Get Rejected', and simply enjoyed the evening for what it was.

Plus, he got free beer out of the deal.

"Do you need a ride home?" Wesker asked as the two men walked back to the Police Station where their cars were parked.

"Nah, I actually walked to work today and I figure I'll walk home," Chris said, running a hand through his hair.

"Are you sure, it's begun to rain again," Wesker stated, slipping his sunglasses off before pocketing them inside his jacket.

"I enjoy the rain, makes me feel alive. Besides, I find myself doing things I wouldn't normally do in order to try and break the monotony of life."

Stopping at the corner across from the police station, the two men waited for the signal light to turn to 'walk' as the rain continued to pattern down between them. Silence surrounded them as they waited, shoulders brushing gently.

"Sometimes I feel like I should break the monotony of life," Wesker softly said, turning slightly to look at Chris. Meeting his gaze, Chris cocked his head to the side and shrugged.

"Why don't you?"

"I think I might."

Chris felt a tug at the collar of his shirt, and the next thing he knew Wesker's lips were upon his.

Standing awkwardly, Chris' mind did a back flip and managed not to make a perfect landing. All he could think about was Wesker's lips against his, the smell of his cologne surrounding him, and the taste of scotch on the other's breath. Without really thinking, Chris opened his mouth slightly and kissed the bottom of Wesker's lip, one hand coming up to rest on his shoulder.

He was unsure of what to do and how to kiss another man- the reversal of roles throwing the usually dominant male for a loop as Wesker's tongue slid across the seam of his lips, gently demanding entrance. Complying, Chris let his mind wander far away as he opened his mouth to his superior. Wasting no time, Wesker's tongue slid into Chris' mouth, sweeping across the top of his mouth with expert ease before sliding against Chris' tongue, a small moan escaping.

The hand that had pulled Chris in had moved up to gently cup his cheek, making Chris hesitantly slide his other arm around Wesker's waist, his autumn coat blocking some of the movement but not blocking the intentions. Pressing against Chris, Wesker slid his tongue out of the man's mouth and ran it along his bottom lip before pulling away ever so slightly.

Letting out a small puff of air, Chris didn't open his eyes and moved to gently kiss Wesker again, and again, and one more time before Wesker nipped his bottom lip.

And suddenly reality and social norms reared their ugly head.

Wesker was his superior and his Captain, a man who his career depended on to be a strictly professional relationship.

He was still seeing Mindy, the beautiful and kind secretary who didn't deserve this type of thing- a cheating and lying man who hid his desires and yet acted them out upon her body.

His little sister was hoping for her brother to meet an honest and dependable young woman with whom he could start the Redfield name over again with- create a foundation in which his family, past and present, could be proud.

And finally, it was all supposed to be a fantasy and not a solid and almost suffocating reality- a fantasy that until today Chris thought was untouchable and therefore safe to have. Because he knew that no matter how much he wanted it, he could never have it, he could never have him. And if he could never have him, he would never have to worry about the possible implications connected to him, the scorn and accusations, and the ultimate heartache that would come with a relationship with such a man- a man like Albert Wesker.

But reality had come crashing down with the simple and tender bite from an altogether complicated situation and an even more complicated man.

Pushing himself away, Chris opened his eyes and looked at Wesker, seeing confusion with a hint of annoyance in the other's eyes.

"Christopher…?" Wesker murmured, strands of his hair coming loose to drape across his beautiful grey eyes due to the rain, as if to tempt Chris back into the hold of a man whose very existence would come to mean so much pain.

"I'm… I'm sorry, I have to--" Chris didn't even finish what he was about to say and instead turned around to hurry home, the rain falling harder as Wesker stayed at the street corner, figure washed in the light from above as the cowardly man ran as far from his feelings as he could possibly get.

He was afraid… afraid of this sudden reality.

Reality was a bitch.

So you got your kiss! Except it probably didn't end the way you wanted it to. I've noticed that a majority of slash/yaoi fanfictions let a character, who by all means is probably strait, suddenly accept the fact that they like another guy and that everyone around them is okay with that- because you know, all cities in America are a happy happy place for homosexuals. I want to show the confusion and panic that someone can feel when they're faced with a reality that, no, not everyone accepts this and that there are other expectations in life that could prevent them from being who they really are. As a strait woman (who lives in Canada where gay marriage has been legalized) I realize I will never know this, so I hope to show it as properly as I possibly can throughout the following chapters. ANYWAYS, thanks again for the reviews/favorites/watches. Totally appeciate it!