AN: Holy moly! Sorry for the super late update (hey, that rhymes.), I've been a little busy. And I was pleasantly surprised by all the questions. I just hope I didn't write too much. Hoo boy, six pages. Keep em comin', guys! :D
"My, my, I must be popular." A thin smirk curled on Wesker's lips.
"Wesker, half of the questions are for me as well, you know." An exasperated sigh met the smirk. They were sitting in the living room couch. Whose living room? Most likely Wesker's. It was pristine, and the leather couch was one thing that made a difference between Chris' "bachelor pad" and Wesker's…well, "pad."
"Anyhow. I'm surprised people actually wrote back. Must be my boyish charm," Chris grinned to himself, sifting through the mail.
If there were an eye-rolling contest, Wesker would be the unanimous winner.
DonatelloLover asks: I have the feeling that this will be entertaining. xD
Wesker: First of all, you're my favorite villain of all time! I was sad to see you go all insane in the membrane, you're too smart for that! D: But anyway, on to my Q.. Do you wear those tight clothes just for Chris or do you just know how fine you are? (Pardon me for being so blunt.)
Chris: You're adorable, and possibly my favorite hero ever. You looked just fine without all those muscles, but to each his own. Now for my Q... Would you rather tell Wesker "I Love You" or "I'm your bitch"?
"A-Adorable…" Chris' face was tinted pink.
"…'Insane in the…membrane?'" An eyebrow arched in amusement. "My, my." He grinned at Chris, drawing his fingers along his jawline to roughly pinch his cheek, gaining a wince and a yelp. "Adorable little Christopher."
"Shut up." Chris swatted at the gloved hand, fuming.
Wesker withdrew his hand with a smile. "Enough of that, now. To answer your question, Miss DonatelloLover, I wear tight clothes simply because I have nothing to hide from my perfect form. Now, I'm not sure what Chris here would think, and I suppose I should ask for his opinion. Chris?"
"You look gay."
A scowl and a punch to the jaw were swiftly delivered.
"I wouldn't want to say either one of those phrases," Chris rubbed at his stubble, nursing a bruise.
"That's called cheating, Chris. You know I don't like cheaters."
He was about to say something , but left it at that.
"I uh, guess I'd say…oh god…Um. I love you?" He nodded slowly, brows furrowing. "I'd never tell him that I was his bitch."
"Are you challenging me, Christopher? Well then, challenge accepted."
"Shit."
Jhyena aj jax asks: Um my question to Chris is what Wesker said about you working out a lot a way for you to feel better about that problem and to Wesker you must enjoy making Chris' life a living hell huh? That's all.
"I…don't really understand that first question."
"Chris, there's something called reading between the lines. Obviously, she's saying that she agrees with me."
"About…?"
"You working out as compensation for your tiny dick."
"It is not tiny!"
Wesker scoffed. "There's something called sarcasm, I'm sure you might have heard of it before."
"Go away."
"This is my house, Chris. I could say the same to you, and it would be perfectly logical. And yes, Jhyena, I do enjoy making his life a living hell."
Silence on the other end of the couch.
Pandoraaa asks: Okay so Wesker you're soo awesome and my question is , if you and Chris wrestled, which one of you would win? And my question for Chris is, if you and Wesker were in a relationship which one of you would be the uke?
"Well, thank you, Miss Pandora, I believe I am quite awesome myself." Wesker smiled.
"More like asshole." Chris chuckled quietly. Wesker sent him a cold look.
"Christopher. I'm merely stating the obvious. Anyhow," he reclined on his end of the couch, "If we were in a relationship—Well, that's rather obvious. He'd play the submissive role."
"W…Wait, I thought she was talking about ukuleles."
Wesker sighed and rubbed his temples irritably. "Chris, does the thought of reading and researching beforehand somehow fail to reach that tiny brain of yours?"
"What—No! I mean, yes, but I thought reading the questions before wouldn't be as exciting…So, uh…" He fidgeted, scratching absentmindedly over stubble, "Is that really what uke means?"
"Yes. You are one, Chris."
"No way. Nuh uh—"
"Locker rooms, Christopher." His reply was low, quiet and…sultry?
Chris' own reply was a whimper.
Wesker snickered. "Ah, Good times. And if we had a wrestling match, I'm sure I'd be able to win."
"Not before I Redfield Chokeslam you."
"Your elephantine arms are no match for my Wesker Crotch-kick."
"…I don't want to wrestle with you."
Olivia-B52007 says: This is sooo awesome! :D i have no ideas at the moment but if i think of any I'll let you know right away :) Can't wait to see everyone else's ideas.
"Well, Miss Olivia, thank you very much for your consideration. We eagerly await further correspondence." Wesker nodded curtly, arms crossed.
Chris nodded along. Then paused. "Did she say…ideas? I thought we were just doing questions."
Elsewhere, in a parallel universe, a young woman at her laptop steepled her fingers, chuckling evilly. Oh, yes, Christopher. Ideas.
KittenKira asks: I have a question for Wesker~! So Wesker, If you could change the past, would you have asked Chris to help you with your plans of world domination? :D
And Chris,have you ever loooved Wesker at one point in your life~?
Wesker hummed quietly in though before speaking. "Actually, I did consider it. Yes, Chris is a dumb gorilla-sized human being—"
"Hey!"
"—But being the simple-minded man he is, he's quick to follow instructions. And I didn't choose him to be a member of S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team for nothing."
Chris made a noise close to a sputter. "You just…complimented me."
"Yes, Chris, not everything that comes out of my mouth is an insult. Answer your question." He stopped, then added, as an afterthought, "You idiot."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it." Chris squinted at the letter once more, then shut his mouth, flopping back onto the couch.
"Well? Chris? What's your answer?"
Chris said nothing, brows so deeply furrowed, his eyes were hardly visible. His ears spoke for him, pink and radiating heat. He took a breath before replying.
"W-well, we fucked a few times—"
"Add fifty or so."
"—Shut up. I don't…I...well, yes, I did love him at some point. Admired him. But…" He exhaled sharply, turning his head to glance at Wesker, "I think he's destroyed any bit of love I've ever had for him. Betrayal and all."
Wesker averted his gaze, burning a hole in the envelopes with his stare. "Hmph."
Deggles says: You already have me wanting more. I shall leave questions as soon as I think of something other than "Why does Wesker wear his sunglasses all the f*cking time?" and "Does Chris really expect us to think he doesn't use steroids?", I shall come up with more inventive things and get back to you. :)
"Yeah, why do you wear those shades all the fucking time? Don't you, ya know, go blind after wearing them constantly?" Chris snorted, staring up lazily at the aforementioned shades.
"I wear them because I find my eye colour..unpleasant. Nonetheless, I can't do much about it, so I cover them up."
"Yeah, but why'd you wear them before you went all, you know, virus-apeshit insane and all?"
"Because they're special." Wesker slipped them off, examining the frame nonchalantly.
Chris scoffed, unaware of Wesker's gradually increasing proximity. "Yeah, right. I bet you wanted to—whoa." Wesker slid the sunglasses to fit snugly against Chris' nose bridge. Chris grew quiet, staring at nothing in particular.
"Holy shit."
"I had them modified. Quite the spectacle, isn't it?" He chuckled at his little pun, then took the sunglasses back. Chris nodded, mouth slightly agape in awe. Who knows what he saw through those mysterious shades.
"I'll answer Chris' question for him. Does he really seem like the type to use steroids? That's all I can say."
PopTop says: Hiya! I few questions :D
-eheeemm-
Firsto! Chris what the hell? Why are ya so fucking buff that if I cut I can have steak like from a cow?
Secondo! Wesker... Do you have some kind of black kink?
Thirdo! Chris... Wesker... What would happen if Chris was the one who pushed you out of the castle instead of Jill?
Fourtho! Wesker... Are you a Dominatrix?
"Oh my, we've been hit with a deluge of question from this person."
Chris scowled. "Why is everyone making fun of me? I though being fit was a good thing!"
"It is, Chris. Being healthy is beneficial, but you are going over the top with your…unnatural fitness."Wesker rolled his eyes, tidying up the letters. He was met with a growl from Chris' side.
"I work out, I eat right, I try my best to be strong enough for my job, and this? Jesus. I guess doing all the right things doesn't always work in one's favour."
"You can say that again." He scanned the letter once more. "And no, I don't have a black kink. Is that really why you think I went to Africa?" He scowled darkly.
A quiet cough came from Chris. "…Wesker, I don't think that's what he or she means."
"Oh. My apologies. I suppose PopTop means the colour. No, I like the colour black. It suits me well."
Chris tapped his chin thoughtfully at the third question, wincing every so often when he touched the bruise on his jawline. "I would have rather it been me than Jill. I can't even begin to think about how horrible it must have been…"
Wesker shot a glance at Chris. "I didn't treat her like an animal, you know."
"Yeah, but…Sticking a machine between her tits? How would you feel?" He glared at Wesker.
"I don't have tits, Chris." He folded the paper neatly. "And if being a dominatrix implies that I have control over everything, then yes, I am a dominatrix."
"Don't forget that phase you went through with the leather and the…whips…." Chris shuddered, arms crossed defensively.
"Thank you for reminding me, Christopher," Wesker purred, smirking.
Chris threw his arms up in exasperation. "Well, fuck me!"
"I will."
"…"