Author's Note: I'm awful. It's been ages and I'm sorry. I have had some very, very serious mental issues lately and have recently started overcoming them. Slowly but surely. Here you guys go. Hopefully, you'll forgive me?
Chapter 21
What Is The Opposite of Two? A Lonely Me And A Lonely You
-Richard Wilbur
"That was hell," Chris muttered as he slipped into Wesker's car.
The blond chuckled.
"I don't quite agree," Wesker said.
The blond closed his door and started the car. Chris already had his seatbelt buckled across his front and was now sitting with his arms crossed. He wasn't nearly as angry as he should have been yet there he sat with a scowl on his lips.
"You are quite upset, Christopher," Wesker stated quietly as he turned the key and started the engine of the car.
"Keep talking and I'll walk home," Chris warned as his eyes immediately went to focusing on the outside of the window.
The dark passing streets as Wesker drove gave Chris more nostalgia than he cared to feel at the moment. He was done with the blond, night, and whatever the hell his life had turned into—he was done.
"No you won't," Wesker chuckled, adjusting the glasses in the breast pocket of his coat with the hand that wasn't steering.
"You don't know me as well as you think you do, Wesker," Chris snapped.
"I don't need to. I understand human nature and more than basic psychology. You may be stubborn and hard-headed but you are not so unreasonable as to walk home in the middle of the night while we are deep within a city riddled with drugs and gangs; especially while unarmed," Wesker responded.
The snarky tone behind the blonde's words caused Chris to scoff loudly and shift in his seat.
"Can we be done talking now?" Chris asked, though it came off as more of demand.
Wesker's response was a quiet snicker.
The remainder of the car ride was, thankfully for Chris, silent. It was a little after midnight and the city was mostly closed besides the occasional patrolling police car and prostitutes walking along the dark streets.
Several minutes from Chris' apartment, the car was stopped at a red light and Chris watched as two police officers were questioning a group of scantily dressed women who were, without a doubt, prostitutes.
Chris pitied them for their awaited future.
Wesker soon was pulling into the apartment's parking lot and Chris had his seat belt buckled undone and his hand on the handle of the door before the blond could even park correctly. Chris jumped out of the car as soon as physically possible—car still on and Wesker's eyes on him.
"Thanks for the shit night," Chris hissed before closing the door.
He turned on his heel and started on the sidewalk towards his building but stopped when the soft rumbling of Wesker's car died and he heard the blonde's door open.
"You can't just leave me alone, can you?" Chris asked loudly before continuing towards his building.
"I simply worry, Christopher," Wesker stated, walking after him after shutting his car door.
Chris couldn't bring himself to care that Wesker was following him into his apartment and simply mumbled, "close the door behind you," after he heard Wesker step inside after him.
The blonde nodded from behind Chris and the brunet heard the door quietly click shut. The only light within the living room came from the small lamp in the corner which made the room glow in a dull yellow. The brown suede couch that Albert sat on looked black under the soft light. Chris shrugged off his coat and hung it lazily over his forgotten blue armchair.
"You really don't change," Chris hissed and stalked into the kitchen.
"Should I be offended?" The blond asked from across the room.
Chris answered by opening the fridge and grabbing a beer, twisting off the lid and nudging the fridge door close in the same movement. He could feel Wesker watching his actions as he mindlessly took a long, long drink of the alcohol. The only thought that was running through Chris' head was that Wesker had no room to judge as the cold liquid was forced down his throat.
A comforting warmth settled in his stomach and he exhaled quietly.
"I don't really know. I know you are the same selfish prick that you've always been," Chris muttered, moving to sit in the armchair.
Wesker inched to the side of the couch, making room for another, and Chris sighed before moving to the couch instead.
"Such a bold claim to be handed to the person dealing with your panic disorder and time displacement," Wesker stated, turning towards Chris.
"You also have tried to kill me in my own recent past," Chris said,
"Fortunately, I have no intention of killing you whilst you assist me during this mission. Beyond that, you may kill me, if you like," Wesker responded with a dark chuckle.
"I can't believe you're laughing. This is all just a joke to you," Chris scoffed and stood, "I'm done playing these games. You need to leave."
"Very well," Wesker said and stood.
Both men faced each other and the blond stepped up to Chris to close the distance between them. Chris let the kiss happen and didn't even fight the tongue that slipped between his lips. Whether it was due to the numbness he was fighting with the alcohol still in his hand or the fact that he was alone and Wesker was somehow the only way he could feel free from the hell he lived, he couldn't bring himself to care.
The blond slipped his hand around the bottle held by Chris and lightly tugged it from his grasp; Chris allowed it. The alcohol was just another crutch—much like Wesker and he didn't need it as long as he had the blonde's warm lips against his. The distraction was pleasant and, if he was honest, preferred to the alcoholic beverage.
"You don't need this," Wesker assured quietly, their lips barely parting as he set the bottle on the coffee table beside them.
"I know," Chris said, defensively, "—But how else am I supposed to cope with this… life?"
Chris stepped back from Wesker but the blond stepped with him and closed the distance between their bodies. Wesker was taller than Chris but only by several inches and Chris' chest was pressed to Wesker's mid-torso. Chris took a deep breath and relaxed against the blond—it was comforting being against someone; it was comfortable to feel Wesker breathe and hear the muted heartbeat beneath his breast.
Wesker's long, pale fingers gripped Chris' waist and pulled their fronts harder together and whether it was a sexual gesture or not, the brunet enjoyed the closeness. His eyes had drifted closed and their lips had gracefully come together without hesitation or struggle. Wesker's soft lips and smoky breath warmed Chris in a way that made him feel normal again; The feeling of normalcy was such a difficult and fleeting emotion to capture, Chris knew he would have to enjoy it while he could.
Chris wanted more than anything to be wrapped around that feeling until nothing mattered and so when Wesker broke the kiss and quietly motioned to the back of the apartment where Chris' room was, Chris nodded without hesitation. The blond led the way and Chris followed close behind, mind spiraling in every direction.
Chris fought so anxiously to forget the man's future and to forget his own past as they entered his bedroom and began shedding their clothing; He wanted to forget the betrayal but once the blond was lying on him and their eyes met for the first time since they had entered in the room, he realized it didn't matter. His past may have made him and Albert Wesker was most definitely evil in one form or another but in that moment they were both attractive, lonely people who needed company.
Their lips met and the breaths between them grew heavy. Wesker's thigh was leaning on Chris' crotch just enough to grind against him and induce a moan from the brunet. Wesker kissed Chris' neck and licked his way to the brunet's square jaw, kissing the warm, stubbled skin there.
Chris raised his left hand to Wesker's head, gripping it just hard enough to tilt his chin up to connect their lips again; Lips parted and tongues mingled while their hands got lost exploring each other. The air around them was tense but the feeling between them was much more lax.
Time sped by at such a pace that Chris lost track ages before Wesker was leaning over the edge of the bed and rummaging through Chris' side table where the lube and condoms conveniently sat. Chris honestly never even remembered buying lube during his younger days but he pushed the thought from his mind.
The smell of antiseptic hit Chris suddenly and his head began spinning. The palm of his right hand was resting on his forehead but he didn't remember putting it there. Suddenly, Wesker had slipped off of him and was above him. Chris blinked once, then twice, then suddenly Wesker was shining a light in his eye that was being pried open by his fingertips.
"Christopher, do you hear me?" Wesker asked slow and clear.
"Yeah, what's going on?" Chris muttered blinking rapidly and suddenly very aware of the room around him and his nudeness.
"I believe you had a fainting spell of some sort. I'm not quite certain. Does that happen often?" Wesker asked carefully.
"Only this and that incident a few days ago in the van but I don't know what's causing it," Chris sighed quietly and his head fell back on his pillow. His head was still spinning.
"The doctors claimed you were fine. Perhaps a few more tests would be suggested?" Wesker offered quietly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Yeah, I'll do that," Chris muttered.
"Is there a reason you are so quiet, Christopher?" Wesker asked casually, setting the flashlight on the side table and turning his attention to the brunet.
"I just want to be normal. I want a normal life where I can do my job and fuck who I want without something messing it up," Chris growled and tucked a hand under his head. He was still on his back and staring up at the ceiling—too embarrassed to the look at the blond who was surely looking at him.
"You believe you ruined the moment?" Wesker asked to clarify and Chris met his gaze.
"Didn't I?" Chris asked in response.
Wesker leaned over the brunet and kissed him for a deep, long moment before pulling away.
"I simply want to make sure you are alright before we continue," he stated, his hot breath against Chris' lips had Chris moaning quietly and nodding.
"I'm fine," he muttered before connecting their lips again.
Wesker accepted the answer and his hand was on the discarded bottle of lube on the opposite side of Chris. The brunet kissed Wesker in a way that he had never kissed someone before—Chris wanted to get lost in the kiss. He didn't want to worry about the loud sound of their lips smacking or his moaning. Chris wanted to focus on the cold fingers pressing into his entrance and his leg being pushed against his chest. He wanted to feel every thrust of Wesker's finger as the blond dug deeper and he wanted to focus on enjoying when he the blond added a finger.
There was very little pain but it was nothing Chris couldn't handle and he was far too preoccupied with Wesker's opposite hand fisting his erection. Chris shifted in his position on his back and pulled his legs tighter to his chest. Wesker paused and ran a thumb over the slit of Chris' dripping member and a quiet moan escaped through Chris.
There was silence between them; The squelch sound of lube and the Chris' heavy breathing were the only sounds in the room. Chris focused on the feeling of Wesker's lubricated hand gliding effortlessly over his hard cock. He could feel the fingers probing deep inside of him, spreading and working his entrance.
Wesker pulled his fingers from Chris and wiped the lube from them onto the comforter.
"Let me switch positions," Chris muttered and lowered his legs.
Wesker stayed quiet and simply began wiping lubrication over his own erection while Chris sat up and turned around. He leaned forward and propped himself up on his knees, exposing his backside to the blond.
"Are you alright, Christopher?" Wesker asked, gliding a hand across Chris' now exposed skin.
"I'm fine. Distract me," Chris stated.
"Very well," Wesker agreed and positioned himself up to Chris.
He pushed his way inside, guiding his long member past Chris' puckered entrance and stopped when Chris quietly hissed at the pain. Wesker kept still a moment, his right thumb caressing Chris' back while his left hand held on to the brunette's hip. Chris nodded his head into the pillow violently to encourage the blond further and Wesker obeyed, pushing himself the remainder of the way in.
His hips were flush against Chris' backside and he remained still while Chris ever so slowly began to settle with Wesker inside of him. He relaxed to his best ability and, as the pain subsided, Chris grew impatient with the blond. Chris began to rock forward and back, successfully fucking himself on Wesker's hardened member.
The blond growled seductively and his fingers gripped tighter into Chris' hip and he began to meet the brunet with deep, hard thrusts.
Chris moaned at the movement and he fisted the comforter beneath them. The fingers of the blonde's right hand ghosted over Chris' back while he thrusted, causing Chris to shiver. Wesker's dull fingernails scraped against Chris' back, creating long red marks in their wake.
Chris' moan transformed into a gasp and then back into the low groan it had been prior—he was getting just as he wanted.
Chris found himself so lost in the pleasure and pain of it all that when the blond stopped to reposition himself, Chris was mumbling over and over, begging him not to stop.
"Wesker, no—" Chris groaned and Wesker responded with a hard thrust.
"I'm not finished just yet; relax, pet," Wesker purred.
The new position allowed Wesker to lean harder into his thrusts and his grip tightened as he quickened. Even as Chris' back grew sore and he felt the sweat began to build on his forehead, he never wanted the moment to end. He moaned in pleasure and could feel his cock perk when he heard Wesker release a groan.
"I'm going to finish inside of you, Christopher," Wesker promised in a quiet murmur against Chris' ear; Chris could feel the hot breath against his neck as Wesker exhaled shakily and continued, "Is that what you want?"
Chris groaned and nodded viciously, arching his back against the cramping he had begun to feel. He felt Wesker falter in his deep, hard thrusts and Chris moaned for the blonde's release.
As an answer, Wesker came and Chris felt the sudden feeling of warmth leaking from his backside—not a pleasant feeling, if he was honest. Wesker leaned against Chris' back for a moment as Chris relaxed to allow the cramp to subside.
Wesker was breathing heavily but Chris could tell he had barely worked up a sweat and he wanted to see what else the blond could do.
Chris sat up, hard member still apparent as he let Wesker slip out of him and he excused himself to the bathroom to clean up the mess inside of him. It was unpleasant but a process he was aware. By the time he had returned, Wesker had a cigarette lit beside the window and was blowing the smoke into the cold air, still very naked and even a little hard.
"That was fun," Chris muttered and sat on his bed where he quietly reminded himself that the comforter needed to be washed following this experience.
"We aren't finished," Wesker promised, taking one last deep inhale of his half smoked cigarette before smothering it out against the outside of the building before tossing it from the window.
"You came, what else is there?" Chris asked with a chuckle as Wesker closed the window.
"You have not and I cannot have that weighing on me, now can I?" Wesker asked seductively, striding back towards the bed.
"You don't have to—" Chris tried, feeling almost guilty for the blonde's insisting.
"Quiet, pet," Wesker whispered and caught the brunette's lips with his.
Chris moaned quietly into the kiss and was motioned to lie back on his bed by the blond. He shuffled backwards and relaxed against his small mound of pillows and Wesker positioned himself beside him.
Chris was still mostly hard from their time together and had a long line of precum dripping from his slit. Wesker's fingers glided over Chris' member, softly brushing against the sensitive, warm skin and dragging the wetness down the shaft.
"You seem to believe I am simply doing this out of consideration," Wesker muttered, his hand gripping Chris' cock hard at the base, "but you are quite wrong."
"Oh really," Chris asked breathlessly, lower lip immediately being pulled in by his front teeth.
"Very much so," Wesker stated, "I enjoy it. I enjoy making you writhe and moan, Christopher. I have wished to do this for quite some time."
Wesker leaned down and engulfed the member inside of the warm cavern of his mouth. Chris exhaled heavily when Wesker's tongue dripped into the brunette's slip and rubbed against the head of his cock. The blond was skilled with his mouth and sucked hard and bobbed his head expertly. Chris wanted to finish just watching the blond work but he fought against the release.
Chris bit back another moan and had to stop himself from complimenting the blond—he didn't want to ruin the moment; he just wanted to lie back and enjoy Wesker's lips working him expertly.
His eyes closed and his head fell back; Chris gripped the comforter beneath them and he felt himself getting close to the edge. Wesker could tell, apparently, because his hands began to gently fondle Chris' balls and seemed to bob his head faster.
Chris yet again found himself feeling the urge to keep himself suspended in the moment; he was lost in Wesker's motions.
His came with hardly any warning and Wesker pulled back to swallow it all expertly—even lost in the ecstasy, Chris found himself staring at him while he came. Wesker sucked up any remaining warm liquid left and finally straightened with a smirk.
"Don't be so cocky," Chris groaned quietly.
"Whatever else would I be if not full of myself?" Wesker asked.
It took a long moment for Chris to realize the blond was joking and he laughed.
"True," Chris responded with a lingering smile, "Do you wanna stay?"
"I have rules," Wesker stated, "Unfortunately, staying would break one of my rules and I cannot have that."
"What other rules do you have?" Chris asked.
"If you must know—" Wesker sighed as he stood and began to dress, "Feelings may not be involved as I have purely physical relationships with my chosen partners and I choose carefully. I never spend the night just as I refuse to allow the partner to believe they are more to me than a warm, wet, body."
By the time Wesker finished speaking, he was slipping his jacket on and Chris had pulled on his boxers.
"But wait—doesn't that mean you already broke one of your rules?" Chris asked casually, rubbing the back of his warm neck, "You usually don't give a pet name to someone you want to keep at arm's length and you did insist on finishing me off…" Chris trailed off.
"Smart-" Wesker chuckled and leaned forward to kiss Chris once again, "—pet."
"More games," Chris sighed as Wesker pulled away.
"You already insisted I have not changed earlier this night," Wesker stated as he slipped on his shoes.
Chris was silent and his head tilted downwards. He could feel Wesker's eyes on him, watching and reading in to each of his movements.
"Could you stay?" Chris asked suddenly.
"Christopher, you know I—"
"You don't need to sleep in the bed with me or anything. You could stay on the couch or something," Chris sighed and looked at Wesker, "I don't know what's happening to me and I don't want to have another dizzy spell… or something," Chris muttered.
Wesker sighed, long and heavy.
Without a word, the blond began to strip, setting the majority of his clothes neatly off to the side.
"Thank you," Chris muttered and turned his back quickly in shame to distract himself by pulling off the comforter from his bed.
He felt disgusting for asking such a thing of Albert fucking Wesker. Sleeping with him was excusable in his mind due to his predicament and he felt strongly at the lack of emotional attachment he felt towards the blond. Unfortunately, Chris also truly did not want to be alone if another panic attack happened or if he suddenly fell unconscious.
"Stop," Wesker whispered and nuzzled his face into Chris' neck to kiss the warm skin there, "I would refuse if I believed you were simply lonely. You are correct—I should not leave you alone while you are in this state but I see no reason I should sleep on the couch unless you feel it necessary?"
Chris leaned back into the warm breath and closed his eyes as the guilt melted away; he may not have had feelings for the blond but he was grateful to have the distraction.
But Wesker was wrong—Chris was lonely.