Hey !

So I finally wrote another chapter. It's Chris's POV, and like the other one, it's WeskerXChris, and a bit of BirkinXWesker, but Birkin can be seen a particularly jealous friend.

Thanks to littlevamp for your comment! I'm glad you liked it!

Thanks to Hakendo Mitsuronairi for the comment ! I'm really happy you enjoyed the first one, and I hope you like this one too !

Thanks to Master of Fangirling Art for your comment, I read your story "One Month In Your Shoes" and I really like it, so I'm glad you appreciated my first ! And yes, Annette and William's parenting is awful, but I guess you can't expect better from two of Umbrella's mad scientists ahah.

Warnings: There are description of sex, but they are very brief and not graphic.

"… Waited hours for…"

Chris Redfield woke up and grunted. His eyes were still closed, and he was trying to not forget a dream that had just ended.

"… At least call…"

He opened his eyes and for a moment he was confused. That was not his bed, and that was not his bedroom. He blinked and finally realized where he was: he had spent the night at Wesker's apartment, something that happened more and more often.

He winced as he sat up: his whole body was sore, even in the most unlikely places. The night before had been one of the best of his life: Wesker had fucked him three times, to the point that Chris had had to literally beg him to stop. Although his Captain was thirteen years older than Chris, he was insatiable and tireless, endowed with an enviable stamina.

"… A mishap…"

Voices were coming from the kitchen. Chris stood up and run his fingers through his tousled brown hair.

One of the voices was Wesker's, obviously: he would have recognized everywhere that slight English accent and deep voice. But the other voice was upset, with almost a childish lilt, and it spat out words in a frenetic way.

Deciding to go and investigate, Chris grabbed his sweatpants. He considered whether or not to wear a T-shirt, but after discovering two new hickeys, one on the shoulder and one on the chest, he decided to get dressed completely. Ever since that relationship with Wesker had started, his body had become a canvas painted with bruises, scratches and slight bite marks. He could no longer take a shower at the gym, it would have raised too many questions and dismayed looks.

It was a pity that the thing was not mutual: when he had given his Captain's chest a hickey, he had been forced to endure a week of complaints.

He went to the kitchen, and found a rather odd scene. Wesker was sitting at the table, calmly drinking coffee from a cup. In front of him, standing, there was a guy that Chris had never seen before. He was a bit shorter than him, with thin blond hair and a sunken face. His bloodshot eyes were underlined by deep dark circles, as if he had not slept in days.

"… That, without…" The unknown man broke off and stared at Chris.

There was a brief moment of silence. Chris ran a hand through his hair again, regretting leaving the bedroom: was he interrupting a private conversation?

The unknown man moved his gaze from Chris to Wesker, while the expression on his face turned quickly from puzzled to annoyed.

"Ehm, hi." Chris said.

Wesker put down the cup. For once, he didn't have those stupid sunglasses on, and Chris could see his whole face. Chris's presence didn't seem to bother him. He looked, in fact, almost bored.

"William, this is…"

"I'm Chris, nice to meet you." He said, taking a step forward and reaching out.

The guy, William, appeared to be deeply offended by his presence, and for almost five seconds he stayed still, to the point that Chris thought of giving up and lowering his hand.

But then he shook it, even if he did it quickly.

"William Birkin." He muttered. Chris kept smiling, even when Birkin's body odor reached his nostrils. He smelled like an awful mix of sweat and disinfectant.

"So, are you…" Chris tried to say, but Birkin interrupted him. "You could have told me you weren't alone." He snapped at Wesker.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted something…" Chris said, sincerely regretting not staying in the bedroom.

"Don't worry, Chris." Wesker said. "William is an old friend of mine, we should have met last night but unfortunately I was busy."

Since when Wesker has friends? Chris thought.

Of course his Captain had not been able to meet with William: when work had ended and all the other members of S.T.A.R.S. had gone home, the two of them had made out for half an hour in the locker room, right against Barry's locker (Chris really hoped his friend would never find out). After that they had gone to Wesker's apartment and had practically spent the night always having sex: twice in the bedroom, and when Wesker had proposed taking a shower together, they had ended up doing it another time, with Chris pinned against the tiled wall.

After all, that was the first day since their relationship had started that they had the same day off. Chris had fantasized about spending it together, but maybe he was wrong.

"Yeah, I imagine how busy you were." Birkin said in a flat tone, and glanced coldly at Chris. He frowned: it was not certainly his fault if Wesker had preferred to spend the night with him than with his friend. Then why that guy seemed to loathe him so much?

It was almost… No. It was impossible that he was… Jealous, right?

What if he wasn't just a friend, but also Wesker's ex?

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Chris announced: "Well, I… I'm going back to the bedroom. It was nice to meet you."

"My pleasure." Birkin whispered, glancing at him with annoyance.

Chris closed the door of the bedroom and sat down on the bed. From the kitchen the voices moved to the entry of the apartment, and he imagined Birkin was leaving. Even if he tried not to eavesdrop, a few words still arrived to his ears.

"… Mental…"

"… Your business…"

"… Over the years…"

"… Too paranoid, you've always…"

"… Maybe…"

The door was slammed with a violence that surprised Chris, and finally silence fell in the apartment.

The door of the bedroom opened and Wesker walked in.

"Ah, you're back in bed. Good." He said, like nothing had happened. He sat next to Chris and landed a delicate kiss on his neck.

Chris let him do what he wanted, but when the kisses started to get more aggressive, he asked:"Who was that?"

"Who?"

"That guy."

"I already told you, a friend."

Chris raised his eyebrows, and the grimace was not lost on Wesker.

"What? You thought I had not a life before S.T.A.R.S?" The older man looked almost amused. "You thought I had materialized one day in the RPD?"

Chris looked away because yes, that was exactly the theory Jill and him had elaborated about Wesker's origin a few months earlier.

"No, of course not." He lied. "I'm sorry. I was just… Surprised."

"Mmh." Wesker murmured, losing interest for the subject and laying his hand on the other man's thigh. "You're wearing my T-shirt."

"Yeah." Chris grinned, finally setting aside the weird experience he just had and slightly spreading his legs. "So what?"

"So…" His Captain's grip on his thigh tightened while he kissed Chris. "So maybe you should take it off."