Twenty:
Fake it 'til you make it
The hardest part about being in love with Jill Valentine was sitting across the desk from her at work. He was supposed to be working on coordinating with the RPD to apprehend the priest and work toward closing down the Witch murders. Instead?
He was thinking about reaching across the desk and grabbing her uniform. He was thinking about throwing her down on their desks, while the rest of the team watched, and drilling her through their pants. She glanced up at him and smiled.
"You find something helpful?"
Chris snorted and shook his head, "Nope. Not helpful at all." He shifted on his chair, adjusting his swollen dick, "Useless. Mostly."
Jill was his best friend. That was true. She was his buddy now, in the weeks since they'd ended things, in a way she hadn't been in months. They'd managed to come out of the mess of what could have been an ugly break up somehow closer.
She popped into his room to tell him about stuff in the RPD she discovered. He started bringing coffee to work for her in the morning because she liked it from the corner cart and never got there on time to get it before it closed for the morning. Jill was always late. It was her thing.
They played Playstation and beat the zombie game. The ending was lame and boring. They played hackeysack and took Dog on walks and hikes together. They never, ever, talked about who they were seeing or dating or doing. They went swimming and diving and were constantly kick boxing each other. Sometimes comically.
Chris was awesome at fist fighting. Chris was awful at kickboxing. But he sure tried. He kept on trying long after she knew he might be hopeless at acrobatics.
He dogged her on her dates with Kevin. He showed up at the restaurants or the bars or the diners they were at and annoyed the piss out of them. She pretty much guaranteed that he wouldn't be fucking any other woman in that house where they lived. When he brought Gia home, she cranked up her music in the living room and had a karaoke fest with Rebecca Chambers from Bravo Team.
She constantly had girls in his house.
She had Rebecca over constantly. She had Cindy from the bar over. She had sleepovers. She had half naked women in his bathroom at odd hours. He came out once to find Felicity from V.I.C.E. taking a piss with the newspaper at 3 a.m.
There was no peace for him in his house with all these women around.
Kevin was always around too. He was eating Chris' nachos and stealing his beer. The freaking gank, he never replaced what he took.
Girls were everywhere, all the time. Jill was constantly running around in a white tank top and tiny shorts. She was painting her nails in booty shorts. She was laughing on the phone in a sports bra and yoga pants. He caught a glimpse of her once coming out of the bedroom to the hall closet to get some hair stuff in a thong. A thong. A thong and some push-up bra that made her breasts look like an obscene wet dream he'd had as a boy.
She didn't make it any better when she dressed. She wore some kind of black dress that barely covered that perfect ass. Rebecca and Felicity were dressed up too. They were both beautiful girls. They were. They pixie pretty and amazon lush. But they weren't Jill.
Jill was everything.
She paused in the living room while the other two laughed and he whistled at them. He was sitting on the couch watching football. "Where you gals headed off to this evening? Some place to murder poor young horn dogs where they stand."
Rebecca giggled. Felicity said, "You want to come along? We're going to a karaoke bar in Gerbiltown."
"Sounds pretty fucking awful." And he laughed now, congenially.
Felicity loved that face of his. He was all kinds of hot. She said, "You come with us, Redfield. I'll buy you a drink and let you take me home afterward."
Rebecca snorted as she gathered her purse.
He considered her. She was hot stuff, no lie. All boobs and blonde hair and dirty looks. But she was Jill's pal. And he wasn't going to do that to her.
"Have to pass, Riker. Without any hard feelings. I'm hung up on a girl."
"That witch you're tagging?"
"Sorta. But not just her."
"Ouch. But no hard feelings, handsome. Some other time."
Jill came into the living room in knee high boots and that black dress. He could see the tops of her lacy thigh highs as she walked. She grinned at him. "You chillin here tonight, Red?"
"That's the rumor."
"Then we will see you later."
She left with the other girls laughing. And he had a visceral image of putting his hand under her skirt and finger fucking her until she screamed. Instead? He waited until she closed the door, put his hand in his pants, and rubbed one off thinking about her, Felicity, and Rebecca Chambers in a girl on girl three way.
Worked like a charm. And had him finished in about two seconds.
To get back at her invasion on his sanity, Chris tortured her at work. He filled her desk drawer with rotten eggs. He paid Louisa in carpool to have her Bug towed to the impound lot. He whoopied her at least three times a day. Once, he leaped up on the table in the cafeteria and recited a dirty poem to her about her being the "master of unlocking". He did it to the theme of Ice, Ice Baby which somehow made it worse.
Your hands are the master of opening doors…
Your fists are the master of beating up whores…
Your toothbrush is the master of scrubbing the floors…
Your lockpicks are something we'd all like to see…
That guy over there was watching you pee.
He pointed to Brad Vickers and made everyone laugh.
You probably could open the vault of a bank…
After you work out, you smell pretty rank…
You're a bit of a brown nose, we all know its true…
Your favoritest color in the known world is blue…
Jill was pretty convinced he was just making this horrid shit up as he went. Beside her, Felicity said, "That guy is an idiot."
Jill agreed as Chris went on with his horrible poem.
Oh master of unlocking, turn your picks in my heart…
I can't even promise I won't make a fart…
Felicity added, "You're aware he's in love with you right?"
Surprised, Jill turned her gaze over. "How so?"
"Girl. That guy? He's nuts for you. It's not rocket science, Valentine. It's truth. I tried to get him to take me to bed when we were hanging out last week." Felicity studied Jill's face and saw it. She saw the little flash of jealousy. "He could have done it. I know he has. The girls in accounting are always giggling about it. They call him the freight train. He throws it down when you ask."
Felicity chuckled a little, "Or he used to. Now? He apparently hangs out at home on a Friday night while his roommate has half of the RPD over for drinks and karaoke and turns down willing girls. Why I wonder?"
Jill laughed a little now. "He's my buddy. Always has been."
"Your buddy is in love with you. Big time. You better use those lock picks to lock him back up, girl. Or he's going to get hurt."
Jill watched him as he went into the last stanza of the poem.
You help stop terrorists, you once fought a witch…
Those two pervs over there would like to make you a sammich…
Oh, master of unlocking, why don't you try?
To open our hearts before we all cry.
Someone whistled. Felicity glanced at her. "I rest my case. Put him out of his misery, girl. Quick."
Jill shook her head at him. He leaped off the table and bowed. Joseph was slapping him on the back. Rebecca said, quietly, "I can think of worse things than having Chris Redfield be in love with you."
Felicity nodded, "Agreed. You sure he don't have a chance?"
Jill chuckled a little. "Best friends forever. It's not like that."
Rebecca giggled a little. "I wish it was like that for me."
Jill laughed and rose from the table. She moved across the cafeteria. Chris grinned at her, all teeth. "That was the most awful thing anyone, ever, has recited."
And now he laughed. "Seriously? You've heard Ice, Ice Baby right? That was an HOMAGE."
"You have no musical talent whatsoever, Red. It's pretty bad."
They patrolled the park when a tip came in about a body being found in the woods. It had been, apparently, eaten. The first suspect was wolves but the autopsy that came back said humanoid. Humanoid. Not human. What the fuck did that even mean?
Jill stopped to see Larry and check up on him on his bench.
He was wearing new shoes, a new shirt, and pants. Someone else had been bringing him clothing. He looked washed and well fed.
Jill said, "Hey Larry, how you doin?"
Larry grinned happily, "Good. Gots a belly full of food and clean underwear. I'm grand."
He shifted and the jacket he wore opened to show the t-shirt underneath. It was blue and had Elmer Fudd on it. She'd seen it plenty. She knew who was bringing him clothes.
"Yeah. Yeah you are."
And her heart ached. Because Chris Redfield was bringing him clothes. The big squish.
Joseph and Maggie got engaged. They had an impromptu party to celebrate. They tied the knot at the courthouse and everyone showed up to celebrate.
He washing his hands in the bathroom at the reception hall where they were having their reception. She came out of a stall and froze, watching him. She had on a pink dress that shimmered.
He wore a good suit in dove gray. It felt better than it should, which told her someone had taken him shopping. Probably the witch that waited in the reception hall.
The shirt he wore was baby blue and did wonders for his eyes.
Jill shifted over to wash her hands. There was only one towel. So they shared it. She said, softly, "It's so great about Joe and Maggie huh?"
"Oh yeah. Life's too short you know?"
"Yeah." The little purse in her had slipped and glanced off the sink, bouncing on the floor. "Shit."
She bent over to pick it up. The dress hiked up her thighs. God. GOD. He was going to earn a space in heaven for how much he wanted her and didn't touch her.
Sorta.
She collected her things off the ground and poked them back in her little purse. And he could see the very, very bottom of her perky little ass sticking out the bottom of that dress. He was rock hard and needy.
She rose and caught his eyes in the mirror.
He shifted toward her. She dropped the purse again.
He put her hands on the sink. He hiked up her skirt. He would have stopped, maybe, but he cupped her over those tiny panties…and she was already damp.
They held eyes in the mirror. And he said, "Damnit, Jill."
Her voice whispered, "I'm sorry."
For what? He didn't care.
He slid his hand into her panties and put his fingers in her. She gasped, bucking against his hand. His other hand slid up her front and covered her mouth. He pulled her back against him. He worked her body, delving and deep. The door to the bathroom shivered, signaling someone arriving.
He dragged her into a stall and shut it, lifting her off the floor with her back against his front so only his feet were visible. He kept pumping his fingers into her body while the voices laughed and swirled around them. It was Rebecca apparently and another woman. Jill, terrified it was Gia, tried to remove his hand from her but he held her mouth and fucked her with those fingers. And she couldn't care. Didn't care. Wouldn't care.
The bathroom door opened again and left silence behind.
He lowered her to the floor, turned her around, and she splayed her hands on the wall behind the toilet. He hiked up her skirt, shifted her panties to the side, and drove his fingers into her body while she crudely rode his hand. He cupped his palm around her thrusting, wet heat and the delicious curve of her ass. And he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to fuck her like nothing he'd ever known.
She mewled, gasping, and he spread those perfect cheeks of hers to see the heat of her there as he fingered her. God, she was amazing. She was wet and hot around his fingers. She was sucking him in while she humped his hand. He wanted to hook his thumb into her tight little hole but slid his hand around her hip instead, parted her creamy folds, and played with her clit like he'd own her. And she was done. She bit her lips and came, humping and crying out. He turned her quickly and put his tongue in her mouth. It was the only way he could think of to stop her screaming.
Jill made a desperate sound and grabbed his ears. They tried to each other's faces off. He kept on pumping her full of fingers while she screamed into his mouth. He pulled back to drag a desperate breath and she gasped, "I can't. I can't."
She was so wet. Her thighs were wet. His hand was soaked from her.
He wanted to drop to his knees and lick her clean.
God. She was right. They couldn't.
He had a fucking DATE out there in the hall. So, did she. She shoved him away from her hard enough to have him hitting the stall door. She didn't look at him. She escaped.
He was a better guy than this. He wasn't this guy. In all his life, he'd never been ashamed of his feelings like he was now. He wasn't a guy who cheated on a girl. If this wasn't cheating, what was?
Anger made him punch the door of the stall and send it slapping hard into the other side.
He went back to the party and ached.
Jill stopped dating Kevin. Chris heard about it one morning at the coffee cart. Felicity was talking to Rebecca about it behind him.
"Why?" Rebecca queried, doctoring her coffee with cream and sugar.
Felicity answered, "He told me she said there was another guy in there. And she didn't want to hurt him. He's pretty busted up about it."
Rebecca considered this and answered, "Who's the other guy?"
"I don't know." Felicity glanced at Chris' back and winked.
Rebecca, giggling, nodded.
He didn't see them. But they giggled a little when he went back to his desk.
She'd stopped seeing Kevin. There was another guy. It was an odd feeling in his guts. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. He didn't have the right, really, to feel anything about it.
A little girl went missing one afternoon. Her body was found near the woods and the park again. Her little face and arms and belly had been brutally gnawed open and savaged. Barry, with his two little girls, handled it badly.
He was so mad.
They redoubled their efforts to locate the perpetrators. They brought in the priest to interrogate him. They collected a few more members of the witch cult. Chris was instrumental in the whole thing.
He got the priest to start singing. He ridiculed him and poked at his ego and bad copped him until he just started shouting about greatness, and the works of the "true lord", and immortality. He preens, Chris had said, and he did. He also sang like a canary.
On the mat, Jill and Wesker grew as mirrors of each other. He taught her redirect an assault. He threw her; she came back. She threw him; he came back. His drive, his determination, his dedication to the skills he taught her was unparalleled. Her ability to get up, get back up and go on, was like nothing he'd ever seen.
He knocked her around and tried to take her down. She kept on fighting.
He taught her about anticipating your opponent. He taught her about utilizing your own pain to guide your focus. With Redfield out of her way, she flourished. She was his devoted pupil. They trained at work, after work, before work. She'd meet him in the gym at any time he asked.
If he'd been anyone else but Albert Wesker, rumors would have circulated about an affair by now. But it was never that. It was never sexual. He didn't touch her or grope her or grind on her. He didn't even likely see her as female. He just saw her potential.
And she gave him everything she had.
They fought without stopping one day until they were both sweaty and satisfied with the fact that neither had lost. Wesker helped her to her feet. Jill grinned up at him.
"Sir, I think I might have just won."
Curious, Wesker lifted a brow, "You didn't beat me."
"No. But you didn't beat me either. I kinda think that's a win."
She had him there.
They did pretty good at being friends, she and Chris. They were easy going and comfortable and funny. After the shift was over one day, she changed in the locker room for a date and came into the office to close down her work for the day.
He was the last person in the office, still chugging along on whatever report he was working on.
He was dedicated. She doubted there was another person alive as dedicated as him.
Chris glanced up at her and his hands fumbled on the key board. She was wearing a blue tube top and some excuse for a miniskirt. She had on kneehigh boots in black and her shoulder holster. Her hair was slick and dark around her face and she had dark eye liner, red, red, red lips and enough mascara to make her lashes look ten feet long.
Jill grinned at him when she settled in her chair and started closing down programs. "No date tonight?"
Chris shifted in his chair, trying to gather his thoughts. "…nope. No date. Just finishing up this report for Wesker. It's already a day late."
"Uh-oh," Jill chuckled and jotted something down on her notepad on the desk, "Someone's going to get a spanking if they don't hurry up."
"That's horrifying. You think he wears sunglasses when he spanks girls?"
Jill chuckled a little. "I don't think he spanks anyone, honestly. Can you imagine him naked and fucking some girl while she screams?"
No. Because he was picturing her screaming. But it wasn't his captain fucking her. It was him.
"I bet he's a weirdo who likes girls to put him in a diaper and feed him baby food."
Jill laughed again at the image. "He seems so focused. I bet he never even jerks off. There's no freight training for Albert Wesker."
She shifted and the air conditioning turned on above their desk. It blew cold air down on them and made her skin burst in goosebumps. And then her little nipples decided to poke against that blasted tube top.
Holy hell.
Jesus. She couldn't possibly know what she was doing to him. He could fucking taste her in his mouth. He had completely stopped typing to look at her. His pencil rolled off the desk and hit the floor with a tinkle of sound.
Jill said, "You have dinner plans?"
He was bending to get his pencil. He could see her tapping one of those little boots. He knew what he wanted to eat. Yeah. Yeah, he did.
He left the pencil on the floor.
Jill said, "What do you think about Indian food for a first date? Probably not the best idea huh? Could be really bad to rip a big fart at the dinner table."
She glanced over their desks and didn't see him. "Chris? Where'd you go? What are you hungry for man? That's the best way to figure out where to eat."
He was watching her thighs and boots shift below the desk. She uncrossed her legs to shift to get something on her desk. He caught a glimpse of the tops of her thigh highs. And he shifted toward her.
"What about sushi?" She intoned, closing down her report on the robbery at the movie plex, "I could totally go for a spicey tuna handroll man. What are you doing down there, Redfield? Taking a nap?"
Nope. No nap.
She felt his hands slid down the insides of her thighs. Shocked, instantly aroused, she gasped and opened her thighs for him. And he she wore tiny, lacy, little red panties. Her legs practically fell open for him.
The hungry little thing. She was desperate for it too. He was so hard it was painful.
Those red panties basically came apart in his hand as he jerked on them. Her body bucked, her hands grabbed the desk, and he filled her full of his tongue. And he showed her what he was hungry for. He wasn't gentle. He wasn't even delicate. He buried his face against her body and ate her alive. Jill made a desperate cry and he tilted her hips toward his teeth, his tongue, his lips, and his hunger.
The office door opened and Brad came in. He glanced at her and Jill put her fingers to the keys of her computer to look busy. He said, "You look hot, Valentine. Big date?"
Chris hooked his thumb into her body and sucked on her clit. He sucked it fast and hard and stole her breath. Her reply was a breathy laugh. "Something like that."
"Well good luck, yeah? I've got one myself. Excited?"
He rubbed his nose all over her clit. He sucked her creamy lips into his mouth and hummed against her body. He hummed and he killed her where she sat.
Jill nodded, smiling. Chris swirled his tongue inside of her and made her eyes try to cross. "Good luck, dude."
"Thanks. See ya."
The door had barely closed and she cried out. He set his teeth against her clit and made her insane.
Jill knew there cameras here in the office. Hadn't Wesker said as much. Her hands shot below the desk and buried in his hair. She ground his face against her body and felt him laugh, laugh and suck her swollen wet heat into his mouth to suckle. Jesus. He tongued her, he took her, his fingers fucked her while she bucked, gasping and grinding against him.
And her hand casually knocked her notebook to the floor.
She slid to the floor to get it. He drug her under the desk and filled her full of his driving fingers. His thumb found her aching apex and flicked, flicked, flicked. She grabbed his face and held on. And his voice? His dirty, wonderful voice said, "You're what I'm hungry for."
She tried to kiss him and he shook his head and pushed her back into her chair. She set the notebook down on the desk and he grabbed her hip and started licking. He didn't stop. He licked and licked and sucked and fucked and shot her brain out of her ass.
Jill grunted, "I'm gonna come. Stop. I'm gonna come if you don't stop."
And he laughed under the desk.
So, she came. She came in his mouth while he sucked on her body. And he tongued her through that thrusting, gasping, grunting release. She was sopping wet with it, with her own need, from his mouth. He licked her from one end to the other while she shuddered. And then he fingered her so hard, so deep, so fast that she screamed.
She tried to be quiet. She did. But she couldn't be quiet. She screamed and thrashed in her chair. He jerked her under the desk, covered her mouth, and kept fucking her body with his hand. "Shh. SHHH. Jill, shhh."
Right.
Surely, he was kidding.
She grabbed at his pants and he pushed her hands away. He held them behind her back and used his other one to destroy her between her thighs. She bucked, so wet his hand slipped and rolled against her. She gasped out for him to fuck her.
He shook his head and drove her into the wall of need with just those fingers. He jerked down her tube top and helped himself to a mouth full of breast. He tried to suck the whole thing into his mouth while she came, came, came. She came and gushed into his hand and bucked and arched into his sucking mouth.
And again. Again. He put her back in her chair with her top back in place, tilted her hips to his mouth, and licked her clean. He licked and rolled and laved her clean. She was making an unh unh unh sound. He raked his nails, so so gently, down the insides of her thighs and left her a puddle of need in her chair.
And he came out from under the desk, with his pencil, set it on the desk beside his notebook and left the room. He didn't even say goodnight. He just…he left.
She sat in her chair quivering.
This was ridiculous. This whole thing was so stupid. How was this helping either of them? Who was this helping? She drummed her nails on the table, irritated that they couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other.
She had to put a stop to it.
But she went on her date. It went fine. It went ok. She went home and found him in the kitchen noshing on fresh baked cookies he'd made. She opened her mouth to refute him for touching her.
She opened her mouth to pick a fight or something that would stop what this thing was they were doing to each other.
But he queried, "You want some?"
And he held out a cookie.
She wanted some alright. But he wasn't offering that. And she didn't know how to refuse anyway.
So Jill took the cookie and kept on pretending they weren't breaking each other's hearts.
Post Note: Originally I cut a bunch of this out to de-smut the story a little. But I hate it without all the passion. I recently watched the Viral Campaign videos released by Capcom during RE5 and reminded myself that the Chris in this story is reflected in those videos. Human. Needy. A man who DATES and LAUGHS and NEEDS. So I stand by this uneven and beautifully long messy journey I made for them. Why not? It feels so perfectly imperfect. So I'm editing it as I go, but mostly? I'm stitching together the world the way I want it. Thank you for reading.