A/N: I don't own Chris and Wesker, because if I did, things would be different. I wrote this for fun, and I'm not profiting from it at all, etc. etc. ad nauseam. The things that are in italics are thoughts.

Chapter Six:

Chris made his way through the air ducts as quickly as he could; looking for another laboratory that might hold the serum he was looking for. Peering down through the air duct of yet another laboratory, Chris decided that he might as well continue his search there. It wasn't until after he'd dropped to the floor and looked around that he realised he was in the same room in which he'd found the picture frame. The same room in which he'd sucked Wesker off…

No. Now is not the time, Chris scolded himself, shaking his head.

Looking around the room, Chris noticed that there were far more shelves full of books in the room than cabinets. He sighed and made his way over to one of the cabinets. He had no idea how much time he had before Wesker would come looking for him, and he didn't want to find out what would happen when Wesker found him this time. Or did he? Pushing the thought from his mind, Chris began looking through the cabinet as quickly as he could.

A sense of desperation soon set in as Chris' mind kept bringing him back to the realization that his nightmare could come true if he didn't reverse his infection. He shook his head. He was going to do everything in his power to avoid that fate for himself, and the world in general. Chris eventually found another vial of the serum in one of the cabinets. He decided to try looking through the desk before moving on to another laboratory. As he was digging through one of the larger drawers, Chris heard the door slide open. He didn't stop digging through the drawer, both because he needed more of the serum, and because there was nowhere for him to go. He didn't have to turn around and look to know that it was Wesker. The older man chuckled as he strode across the room. Chris turned around and immediately settled into a defensive stance.

"While your heroic resistance might have been endearing at first, it has become tiresome," said Wesker. Moving at an inhuman speed, Wesker closed the distance between himself and Chris, pulling out his magnum and pressing the barrel into the side of the brunette's neck. Panic barely had time to register in Chris' brain as the blonde's body pressed up against him. Wesker ground his hips slightly against Chris, smirking again as the brunette flinched at the contact. Regardless of the imminent threat to his life, Chris realised that the lust was bubbling up inside him again. Wesker ground his hips against Chris a second time, laughing as the younger man squeezed his eyes shut, but made no attempt to move away. "I could drop you where you stand, and you still cannot resist me," the older man sneered.

"Sh-shut up," said Chris, opening his eyes and curling his hands into fists. Wesker lowered the gun, and Chris relaxed slightly, reluctantly realizing the truth in Wesker's statement. The older man could easily have killed him, but Chris found himself wanting yet again. Chris looked Wesker up and down, wondering why in the hell he was so drawn to the older man.

"What is it you want?" the blonde whispered. Chris' eyes fell on the gun that was still in Wesker's hand. The older man sighed. He slid the magazine out of the gun and shoved it into Chris' pocket before putting the rest of the gun into his own pocket. "Better?" The brunette nodded. "Good," said Wesker, before sliding his trench coat off and draping it over a nearby char. For a second, the two men just stared at each other, neither wanting to initiate the contact. And then Chris slowly drew closer to Wesker and put his lips to blonde's neck. "What is it you want?" Wesker asked again. Chris hesitated a moment before answering.

"You," he said quietly. "I want you." Chris' statement only further inflated Wesker's ego. He reached down and started to unbutton Chris' pants, and the younger man reciprocated the motion. Chris then wrapped his hand around Wesker's shaft, and the blonde sighed, in spite of himself. As his hand settled into a rhythm, Chris looked up at Wesker.

"I want to see your eyes," he said.

"No," Wesker replied. "You don't."

After a few more minutes, Chris dropped to his knees, and took Wesker into his mouth. The blonde hadn't expected it, but he wasn't about to argue. Chris was working Wesker with his mouth and left hand, and at the same time, he reached down between his legs and began stroking himself with his right hand. The older man looked down at his former subordinate.

"You look good like that, Christopher, on your knees with another man's cock in your mouth," said Wesker. Chris couldn't tell if Wesker was being genuine, or simply taunting him. He assumed it was the latter, and glared up at the older man. Wesker knotted the fingers of his right hand in Chris' hair and yanked the younger man backwards off of him.

"Don't you dare look at me like that when I've just paid you a compliment. Stand up." Chris got to his feet, letting his pants drop and bunch around his ankles. "Good boy. Now, turn around, and put your hands on the desk."

Chris turned around, only to notice large stacks of books and papers strewn across the entire surface of the desk.

"But-" he began. Wesker sighed, and with one sweep of his arm sent all the books and papers flying sideways off the desk.

"Hands on the desk," Wesker began. "Now." Chris complied, placing his hands flat on the desk. He knew what Wesker had in mind, and spread his legs a little more than shoulder width apart. Wesker smirked, before retrieving a small bottle of lube from one of his coat pockets. He popped the cap of the bottle open, and started preparing Chris for what was to come. The younger man tensed at the first touch, as he always had, but soon relaxed into Wesker's ministrations.

Once Chris had been sufficiently prepared, Wesker upended the bottle, spreading a generous layer of the liquid onto his member. Placing his hands on Chris' hips, Wesker carefully pushed the head of his shaft into Chris. He did so slowly, as to avoid drawing blood from the younger man. As Chris' body acclimated to the presence of Wesker inside him, he started to push back slightly against the blonde. Wesker got the hint, and continued pushing forward until he was buried to the hilt in the younger man. He withdrew almost completely before thrusting back in. He moved slowly at first, but his hips gradually began to move faster. His grip tightened on Chris' hips as he slammed into him again and again. Judging by the tightness now clenched around his cock, Wesker figured that Chris hadn't been with another man since the two of them had been together.

Chris gasped as Wesker found his prostate. As he repeated the action, a soft sound that seemed to be a cross between a whimper and a moan made its way out of the brunette's throat.

"Wesker?" Chris whispered.

"Yes, Christopher?" Wesker replied, trying to keep from sounding breathless.

"Could you turn me around?" Wesker pulled out of the younger man completely.

"Up on the desk," said Wesker. Chris turned around, sat down on the desk, and scooted forward to the very edge before spreading his legs. Wesker then slipped his shirt up and over his head before stepping between Chris' parted thighs. As Wesker entered him again, Chris wrapped his legs around the blonde's waist. Relishing every sound the younger man made, Wesker's hips resumed their previous velocity. Chris' body shook with every thrust, and he wrapped his arms around Wesker in an attempt to stabilize himself. If the contact bothered Wesker, he didn't let on that it did.

Taking one hand off of Chris' hip, Wesker reached down between their bodies, and began stroking Chris in time with his thrusts. Changing the angle of his hips, Wesker soon began hitting Chris' prostate dead-on. His grip on Wesker tightened, and his nails left deep scratches in the older man's skin.

Wesker was getting closer and closer to the edge, and the way Chris was panting in his ear told him that the younger man was nearing completion as well. The blonde's rhythm began to falter as he approached the point of no return, and he buried his face in Chris' neck to stifle a moan as he came. His entire body shuddered with the force of his release, and he stopped moving, his breathing labored and uneven. Chris clawed at Wesker's back and ground his hips, looking for some kind of friction from Wesker's softening member. Wesker resumed stroking Chris, admiring the way the younger man's back arched in response to the stimulation. Chris spilled himself into Wesker's hands with a guttural moan that may or may not have been the older man's name.

After detaching himself from Chris, Wesker took his time putting his clothes back on. Chris got down from the desk and pulled his jeans back up. Neither of them spoke until Chris saw Wesker slip something green into the pocket of his trench coat.

The serum! Chris realised. "Hey!" He shouted. "Give that back!" Wesker laughed, and drew the vials from his pocket.

"These?" He asked, before dropping them to the floor and crushing them under the heel of his boot. "Oops."

"You fucking bastard!" Chris roared. "You're just pissed because I found a way around your plans." Wesker feigned surprise before laughing again.

"You think that's what you've done?" asked Wesker. "I hate to break it to you, Christopher, but the last two weeks of your life have been a lie! You were never infected. The entire thing was an experiment to see whether or not a person who believed they were infected would begin exhibiting the symptoms of the infection, minus the presence of any actual contagion," Wesker explained. Chris swayed on the spot, suddenly feeling dizzy on top of a massive urge to vomit.

"What about-"

"There was no infection. There were no actual symptoms. There were no actual side effects. You, Christopher, are simply a slut. A dirty, shameless whore, but not a bad piece of ass if I do say so myself," Wesker said, and a triumphant grin spread across his lips. Chris had heard enough. He lunged forward and locked his hands around Wesker's throat.

"I hope you burn in hell," Chris hissed through gritted teeth as he pressed down on Wesker's Adam's apple with his thumbs. To his surprise, Wesker just laughed. With inhuman speed, he whipped a hypodermic needle out of one of his pockets, and jammed it into the side of Chris' neck, and the brunette slumped to the floor.

Chris awoke with a start, and a quick moment of panic set in before he realised where he was. He was sitting at his computer, with a half-typed email to Claire on the screen. A few lines of gibberish had been added as a result of his having fallen asleep on the keyboard. Chris reached up and ran his fingers through his hair.

What a weird fuckin' dream… he thought to himself. Getting up from his computer chair, he padded down the hallway to the bathroom. Chris did his business and flushed the toilet. It wasn't until he turned around to wash his hands that he looked in the mirror. The eyes staring back at him were a violent shade of orange.

- The end.