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It was well past nine o’clock by the time Chris Redfield put his key in the door of the apartment.
Stepping inside, and shaking the snow from his hair, he couldn’t help the heavy sigh of relief. The poor weather had made the already ridiculous drive home through the Friday night traffic another layer of hell, snow falling thick and fast and deep. It had taken almost two hours longer than usual to cross the city – an impossible feat considering the excitement that had been pumping through his veins since that morning.
He kicked off his snowy boots to dry by the front door next to the pair neatly lined with the wall, and stumbled down the hall into the kitchen. Here he tossed his snowy coat over the chair nearest the radiator, and noted how clean the place was. The place was a mess during the busy week, rubbish and dishes all over the counters from the trash he usually ate (he never bothered to cook unless absolutely necessary). It smelled clean today, like lemon disinfectant, and the fresh bag of specialty coffee sitting on the side next to a little note was a clear indicator that something had swept through here with a vengeance and a cleaning cloth earlier.
Chris couldn’t help but feel a little glow in his heart, and a little cringe of guilt. He glanced at the note, then opened the recently cleaned out fridge to see that some leftovers had been carefully wrapped up in a dish and left on the top shelf for him. There was something special about coming home to dinner already being sorted for you, better yet when you knew it had been homemade by none other you’re your spouse. But dinner could wait – there was a much better gift awaiting him.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and a beam of golden light spilled out into the dark hallway from within. Peering through the crack, Chris set eyes on the culprit for his much tidier apartment. Quietly, he stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.
Sitting with his back propped up by pillows against the headboard was his husband, Albert Wesker. The man was snoozing, head dropped almost to his chest with his reading glasses still on, and the book in his hand almost falling to the floor. In the warm glow he looked younger, less as though life had begun to drain the energy from him, his white-blond hair a little loose from a recent shower, and his pyjamas almost too comfortable to see on a man who had worn suits his entire academic career.
Chris sat carefully on the side of the bed, and picked up the falling book to place it on the bedside table without disturbing his lover’s rest. Wesker worked long hours, often away for days at a time in a research position at the university in the next city over. This week he had been gone for five consecutive days and had only gotten back that afternoon. The man was almost fifty-four now, Chris being forty-one. They had been married now for over a decade, as told by the ring-mark imprinted into Chris’ hand even when he took the precious item off during working hours.
It had taken a long time for Chris to get to know the man in the beginning. Almost ten years of constant attempts before he’d gained Wesker’s true attention, going to his seminars just for the chance to see him again after being lectured by him briefly at his college as a younger man. It had been slow going, but it paid off in the form of a tender partnership another decade down the line.
“Wesker?” Chris murmured, putting a hand on Wesker’s leg and squeezing gently. “I’m home.”
The older man stirred, and through his blond eyelashes looked vaguely over Chris as he lifted his head.
“Chris,” he returned groggily, reaching up to remove his reading glasses, “there’s leftovers in the fridge, or did you eat at work?"
“I’ll eat later, thanks love,” Chris smiled apologetically, “sorry I’m so late, I meant to tidy up before you got back but it’s snowing pretty heavily out there.”
“It is no matter. It allowed me to clean up the filth you create in my absence to my standards.” Despite the mild complaint, Wesker put his hand on Chris’, and squeezed it lightly. “Are you working this weekend?”
“Nope. I’m all yours until Monday.”
“Hmph.” Wesker closed his eyes and a small twitch of a smile came to his lips, “good man. It’s been a long week without you. Even if you do create a hurricane of destruction everywhere you go.”
Chris laughed. “Don’t fall asleep on me yet old man, we’ve got some catching up to do yet.”
“I’m not,” Wesker murmured, although his head was already nodding a little.
Carefully, Chris leaned in and kissed Wesker. A slow, warm kiss. And when he pulled back, the older man’s grey-blue eyes were looking at him again with a tired reverence. Wesker reached up a hand and stroked Chris’ cheek, brushing the scratchy stubble all the way to Chris’ neck, and down to his shoulder – well built and firm from decades of intense body training.
“Dear me. When did you grow up, Christopher?”
Chris leaned into the touch, and sighed deeply. Lovingly. There was nowhere else that mattered. The world beyond the window blanketed in a quiet snow was another lifetime, another world. But his whole life was here beside him, and always had been, and always would be.
“You ask me that all the time,” Chris chuckled, “it really does make you sound like an old man, Wesker.” He leaned in again to drown Wesker in another kiss. A little longer this time, with a bite more passion and adoration as he led the movement. His hand slipped up to Wesker’s thigh, thumb grazing the groove of his inner pelvis. “I really missed you,” he murmured against Wesker’s lips, “I can’t eat until I’ve made love with you. I’ve been thinking about it all goddamn day.”
Wesker exhaled sharply – a little embarrassed incredulity – and leaned back. “My apologies, Christopher, I’m in no state to ravage you tonight.”
“How about I take the lead tonight?” Chris offered, a sly grin on his face as he climbed onto the bed properly, kneeling between Wesker’s legs and leaning over the older man, burying his face in his neck to inhale the scent of his soap and cleanliness, knowing Wesker would do the same with his musk of sweat and deodorant. His hand was still on Wesker’s leg, caressing the muscle through the fabric of his pyjama pants. “It’s been a while since I’ve done you, I promise I’ll be gentle.” He whispered into Wesker’s ear,
“Goodness, Christopher, you really do mean to run me to an early grave. Still demanding even after all these years,” Wesker chuckled, a hand now on Chris’ head, running his fingertips through the short cropped brown hair.
“I can’t ever get enough of you,” Chris kissed Wesker’s neck, other hand starting to slide up under the shirt of the older man, “every time you’re away, you’re all I can think about. I’ve been going crazy this week, wanting you. I feel like I’m in heat just at the very thought of you. Day and night, all I want is you.”
Wesker relaxed into Chris’ touch, and shifted only a little as Chris began to remove his shirt and kiss down his pale throat to his chest. Sloppy, long kisses that left a little trail of red lovebites as he took his sweet time kissing every inch of his lover, stubble brushing over the smooth skin.
“I’m always impressed by your libido, dear me Chris, whatever would you do without me?”
Chris looked up, head rested on Wesker’s abdomen and a wry smile on his handsome face flecked by the scars of the job, a little weathered, a little greyer than he had been at twenty-three. “I’d’ve probably done something stupid like go back to the army. Give up any dreams of having a normal life. A stable home, a partner I love, a job I enjoy…” he closed his eyes and laid a soft kiss to the sternum below Wesker’s navel. “I’d never have known this kind of happiness.”
He smiled against Wesker’s cool skin as he felt the older man’s hand on his head again, caressing his hair despite the city grime and melted snow that still dampened it.
Wesker was not the type to speak in such an honest way, and Chris had known it from the start. His husband struggled to put these feelings to words, struggled to accept Chris’ confessions as reality. Hence why it had taken quite so long to convince the man he actually was in love with him. But Chris was persistent, and he had wanted Wesker despite every attempt the man made to try and tell Chris what he felt wasn’t true. Chris suspected Wesker had never been with another before him, but it had never bothered him. Perhaps he was stubborn to the point of madness, but it had not all been in vain.
The simple pleasure of coming home on an evening to his husband. Wesker might complain about Chris’ mess, but he seemed to almost revel in cleaning, in cooking, and seemed to relax the moment Chris came home as though he’d not truly clocked out of work until he saw his partner. Chris paid most of their expenses (his salary was far better as a senior lieutenant at the RPD), and often picked up Wesker from his university on days he finished early enough. He showered his lover in presents, even though Wesker told him off whenever he came home with a new book or gadget or pair of vintage sunglasses for the lecturer’s collection.
It was a strange relationship, but symbiotic. A peaceful balance of unending quiet passion and partnership. Wesker was his rock in a turbulent world, and Chris would worship the ground he walked upon if it would make him happy. But thankfully, Wesker seemed happy enough in Chris’ presence alone. The ups and downs they had shared. Love, loss, the precious memories of an intimate wedding. Little fragments of one another they fulfilled.
“Can I touch you, Wesker?” He asked softly, “I want to make you feel good. You’ve had a long week, so leave it all to me, I’ll erase the exhaustion for you.”
“Do what you wish,” the older said calmly, still toying with Chris’ hair, winding it around his fingertips as if mesmerised by the man with his head almost between his legs. “How could I ever stop you, Christopher?”
Chris half grinned, and hooked his fingertips under the waist of Wesker’s pants, drawing them down slowly, kissing down as each inch of new exposed flesh came into sight. Down over the v-line, and onto the soft inner thigh of his lover, softly sucking little marks into the pale skin. “You smell so good,” Chris hummed, not lifting his head as he bled out affectionate bruises with his lips, feeling Wesker shift a little in arousal at the act, “fuck, I wish I could bottle your scent.”
“Are you sure you could behave with that?” Wesker teased, voice almost a drawl as he held himself stern and steady as always, watching his younger lover work with meticulous affection. “I’m quite sure you’d be quite naughty with it.”
Chris glanced up with his deep brown eyes, glowing in the golden light. Above him Wesker lay, a little pink in the face with the fine crease between his brows prominent. He had always been good at holding back, it often took a lot to get the man to collapse to pleasure. “I thought you liked me being a bit naughty?” Chris breathily laughed, licking up Wesker’s thigh and letting his lips graze ever closer to the slightly stiff cock temptingly hung between Wesker’s delicious white thighs. “But you’re probably right, the last thing I need is more incentive to skip work just to take you.”
Wesker chuckled, and inhaled deeply as Chris’ lips touched the base of his cock. “Mmm… you’re taking your sweet time today, Chris, I thought you’d pounce on me like you’ve been starved for it.”
“I have been,” the other breathed, nose buried in Wesker’s fine pale pubic hair to gather up that scent of manliness hidden even beneath the soap. He always smelled erotic to Chris. Tantalising, enough to make his mouth water for it as it was now. “Fuck, I’m gonna take my time, I could make it last forever.”
“Bold words for a premature ejaculator.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “That was a long time ago, c’mon. You know I don’t disappoint anymore,” he flashed Wesker a cheeky wink, before leaning back a little and letting a mouthful of drool drip into his open palm. Leaning in again to bury his nose against Wesker’s sternum, his lubricated hand clasped the older man’s half-stiff cock, stroking it gently and rhythmically. In his palm it felt hot, stiffening and straightening as he worked up a good slick. With a wet slick, he gently pulled the foreskin back from the swollen glans and felt Wesker shiver slightly beneath him, fingers tightening slightly into his hair. “You have such a nice cock,” he muttered, distracted as he watched his hand work, the pink tip appearing and disappearing through the tight squeeze of his fist. “Perfect length, perfect width… you even smell good here, fuck, it makes me so horny.”
“I know how much you love it,” Wesker mused, voice slightly stiff as he held back his sounds as usual. "I've seen you cum from it enough times to know that."
Their sex life had for the most part been entirely, ferociously passionate since the start of their entanglement.
Chris had made the first move, but Wesker had surprisingly been violently receptive. The stern, intelligent, slightly shy man had turned out to be Chris’ match in the bedroom before they had even figured out the other compatibilities. And it hadn’t died out, each time was just as exciting as the last, hardly able to keep off of one another when they were both home at the same time.
Although it was most often that Chris took Wesker’s cock, in more recent years since their marriage, Wesker had cautiously began to allow Chris to fuck him instead. What had brought on this change of heart was unclear, but Chris suspected it was half because Wesker enjoyed a little relaxation with his pleasure, and half because he knew it’d please Chris. But a third consideration that Chris privately held was that Wesker had finally begun to loosen up his fears. Once the man had been nervous about giving himself to another man, but these days it felt natural, considerately passionate.
And by god did Chris love it when he had his Albert spread before him to willingly receive him, nervous and shy even with his sharp mouth.
Chris took the tip into his mouth, still stroking Wesker as he let his tongue explore the swollen slit, tasting the weak salt of early arousal. Slowly he began to lower his head, throat nice and relaxed so that Wesker’s cock slid over the hot wetness of his tongue and to the back of his throat. He loved giving head, feeling Wesker pull his hair a little as he melted into the heat, unable to prevent little heavy breaths and soft gasps from leaving his lips. Chris took Wesker deep, letting the member slide a little into the tightness of his throat, nose buried into the pubic hair and bringing that scent again. It melted his brain, and made his jeans feel uncomfortably tight. But he was too preoccupied to touch himself, how could he when he had a whole Albert Wesker to explore first?
He sucked him slow and lewd, all tongue and spit and smooth bobbing motions as he let the tip fuck as deep as he could manage without choking. The scent and taste of Wesker filled him so, and he pulled from the tip to suck wet kisses into the underside of the now furiously stiff cock, right down to the base where he suckled on the throbbing vein, fist pumping the rest of the length. He glanced up again. Wesker’s face was frowned in concentration, eyes closed tight and a blush creeping from his cheekbones to his neck. It was his pleasured face, oddly cute in its vague embarrassment at his reaction to pleasure.
Letting his tongue drag down to the tight balls, Chris kissed over them softly, taking a little of them into his mouth to suck and tease as he pumped Wesker a little quicker, saliva dripping down to the bedsheets below. He didn’t mind Wesker’s hair down here, he was a hairy man himself after all. He could feel the fur against his tongue, a reminder of Wesker’s innate humanity and manhood.
“Wesker,” he called out in a gentle, warm voice, tempting the older to open his eyes a little. Chris licked the inside of Wesker’s thigh again. “Wesker, can I touch you inside?”
Wesker exhaled deeply, removing his hand from Chris’ head and gripping the headboard behind him. He looked already quite a mess, hair loose and falling over his pale eyes, the erotic flush, the distinct bitten quality of his lips. “You don’t have to, Christopher.”
“I want to. I’ve just spent a whole week dreaming of all the ways I’d make love to you when you got home, so let me, won’t you?” He gave Wesker his best longing gaze, the kind Wesker referred to as ‘starving mutt’.
“Dear me, I must be spoiling you too much,” Wesker gave a thin smile, “do not disappoint me, Christopher, and be gentle. I’m not fond of being reminded of my age.”
“Oh please, you just keep getting finer by the hour,” Chris laughed, sitting to reach for the nightstand drawer. He retrieved a bottle of lube and a few packets of condoms, and wet his fingers in the cold gel, warming it up a little before applying it gently to the tight pucker of Wesker’s ass. He slid his knees under Wesker’s calves, keeping the man’s legs spread and raised a little for easier access. Watching Wesker’s face close, he gently pushed the first finger inside. The older man’s knuckles whitened against the headboard, and he shifted his head back a little, looking through long blond lashes of half-cracked eyes at Chris’ arm.
Wesker was tight, velvet and pulsing inside. As if his body was already prepared before he was to be taken. Chris slid his finger as deep as he could, curling it forward and watching with a shiver of pride as Wesker’s lips parted a little though he made no sound.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy Wesker.” As always, he was in awe of his lover. Never had there been a time Chris hadn’t felt exceptionally lucky to witness such a face on the brink of unstable pleasure. Knowing he was the only one to have ever seen such a sight, that Wesker was all his to please and worship with his body. Even as they had aged, put on a little more weight and grown a little greyer, he was still so sickeningly head over heels for the man it drove him wild. “God, I love you so much.”
The mumbled confession drew a little smirk to the corner of the older’s lips, even despite his clear concentrated form.
Slowly, slowly, he fucked Wesker with the single digit. Stroking up against his prostate in knowledgeable curves of a fingertip. Chris lowered his head again and kissed the tip of Wesker’s cock as it lay throbbing on the stomach of the man. He took it into his mouth, blowing him with the same sincere pace of his finger, liberal with the wetness of his mouth until the excess run off of his saliva was pushed inside by a second finger. This time he heard Wesker’s little half groan from the stretch, and he felt himself throb furiously against his jeans. He’d came in his pants once before from such a thing, but he was determined tonight to give Wesker exactly what he deserved.
Wesker’s legs were lightly trembling against Chris’ now, thighs attempting to press together and inadvertently closing around Chris’ head. Trapped by the body of his lover, Chris worked his mouth a little quicker, fingers fucking in and out at a steady and careful pace, loosening the tight heat of Wesker’s dreadfully inviting body, feeling the swollen gland inside throbbing for a real fucking. A third finger, and Chris took Wesker deep into his throat, letting it rest there for a few long seconds as he stretched Wesker as wide as he could take it.
“Mnh..-“ Wesker caught himself mid-moan, and Chris knew all too well that he’d got the man good and riled up now.
He pulled himself up from Wesker’s cock, letting it stand wet and flush in the golden light as he fingered Wesker good and deep, the sounds wetter and softer now from between his legs.
"Do you want me to keep going?” Chris asked gently, voice a little hoarse after giving head, “or should I stretch you a little more?” He leaned in to kiss Wesker’s neck, “I don’t want to hurt you, love.”
Wesker licked his bottom lip, eyes heavy with arousal now. He was breathing deeper, a little dewiness to his skin from the heat of the sensation even despite the snow falling thick and fast past the bedroom window. It was good and warm in their bedroom, safe from the world, bound in their own hunger for one another.
“You needn’t hold yourself back,” Wesker murmured breathily, “and you needn’t worry, you’re far too gentle with me, Chris. I won’t break, so take what you want from me.”
Chris smiled at Wesker’s assurance, and leaned forward to kiss him again. It was less chaste this time, more tongue and little nips of teeth. Chris could feel the electric eroticism in his veins now, a hankering to fill Wesker properly and force more delicious sounds from his stoic form. “I’m going to fuck you real slow, Wesker,” he said, low and sweet against his lips, “so you can enjoy every single inch of me until you’re fully satisfied.” He pushed his fingers as deep as he could and felt Wesker clench around him at his words.
He slid his fingers out, and spread Wesker’s legs a little to watch the little hole flutter, dripping a little lube. Nice and soft and ready for the taking.
“Chris… you are a terrible romantic,” Wesker gently chastised, still flush and looking a little nervous by the frown and clenched jaw he held.
“Yeah, I am.” He flashed Wesker a sly grin as his hands smoothed the soft skin of his lovely kiss-marked thighs, “you want me to wear a condom today?”
He always asked. Sometimes Wesker had conferences at weekends, and the man wasn’t fond of cold cum leaking out whilst he was giving presentations on forensic science. That and the fact he enjoyed quietly assuring Wesker he’d give up a fraction of his own pleasure for protection so long as he could feel comfortable and safe. Even though neither of them had been unfaithful, etiquette was the only kind of romance Wesker felt fully comfortable with.
“No need,” Wesker bit his tongue, exhaling a little shakily, “you may finish inside, if you desire.”
“Are you sure?” Chris asked, easing his steel-hard cock out of his jeans and coating it in a liberal douse of lubricant, trying his hardest not to cum at the sheer prospect of entering Wesker raw after a good half hour of foreplay.
Wesker released the headboard and touched Chris’ face, sliding around to lightly grip the back of his neck and pull him in closer. “You’re horribly infectious, Christopher,” he said disapprovingly, “but it seems I’m feeling rather romantic tonight, too.”
“I guess it’s true what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Chris stole a quick kiss, “hold onto me, love, let me know if it hurts and I’ll stop.”
Wesker huffed a laugh through his nose and shook his head a little. Perhaps amused that Chris was always so concerned, perhaps embarrassed that he was viewed as weak. But all the same, he put his other hand on Chris’ sturdy shoulder, and did his best to relax back into the soft bedding as Chris put the wet tip of his cock to his hole.
“May I?” Chris whispered, and upon receiving a little nod from Wesker (whose eyes had shut tight again), he began to push inside. The tip popped in past the tight rim, earning a little hiss of surprise from Wesker, followed by a soft groan as Chris slowly eased the rest of his length inside as far as he knew Wesker found comfortable, his own louder low groan reverberating in the still, intimate air between them. An inch or two of his cock still didn’t quite fit, but enough was inside that he could feel his lover tight around him, wet and twitching with anticipation. “Relax, love,” Chris kissed the crease between Wesker’s eyebrows, “I can’t move with you holding me so tight.”
Wesker only could nod, exhaling shakily through his slightly parted lips, head rolling back onto the pillow behind him. He looked debauched already, flustered and damp from fighting back a pleasure he still hadn’t quite learned to accept, fingers digging in tight to Chris’ own damp skin sure to leave a good bruise for tomorrow.
“Yeah… that’s it, fuck…” Chris cursed as he felt himself slide in another inch deeper as Wesker focused on relaxing his muscles. He pressed his forehead to Wesker’s, hands gently under Wesker’s knees to keep his legs high enough to enter him carefully and at an angle he knew Wesker enjoyed best. “How does that feel, handsome?”
“No need for… flattery,” Wesker got out slowly through his clenched teeth, “fine, Chris, just move. Don’t make me beg.”
“I don’t have the patience for that,” Chris pointed out with a sly smile, “alright, but if you need me to-“
“For god’s sake Redfield, just get on with it. I’m hardly a virgin,” Wesker snapped, closing his legs around Chris’ waist and pulling him in a little deeper and emitting a filthy erotic moan at the way Chris filled him. “Now stop with the incessant questioning and fuck me well.”
Chris felt a surge of desire. It was so rare for Wesker to express something quite so clearly, a demand for pleasure. It was all he could do not to jackhammer him into an early grave. Instead, Chris gently pulled out, before penetrating deep and slow once more. The heaven of Wesker’s body taking him was enough to make his cock throb with desperation, but he held fast, working up a slow and deep cycle of his hips, ensuring Wesker could feel every single inch of his cock grinding up into his prostate. Wesker was still hard, dripping a little onto his own soft stomach.
“Touch yourself, Wesker, it’ll help,” he murmured, feeling the man perspiring against him as he rocked his hips and fucked him as he promised. With all the control and mercy in the world.
Wesker grunted, shakily removing the hand from Chris’ neck to slide down his torso and grasp his cock, rubbing the tip with his thumb until his lips opened a little further and he couldn’t fight back the light gasp from Chris’ cock stimulating his prostate as he moved in tandem to Wesker’s touching.
“Oh fuck,” Chris whispered, feeling his own face getting hot just from watching Wesker slip into pleasure below him. He was taking him well, penetrated so deep it ought to be a sin, whilst he fought back his pleasure with lip bites and muffled groans, pumping his cock to the beat of his own heart. “You’re so beautiful Wesker, y’know that?”
“Yes,” Wesker said sharply, obviously frustrated that Chris’ questions were making him lose focus from his obstinance, “you never shut up about it.”
Chris hummed in deep-seated pleasure and love, and kissed the corner of Wesker’s parted lips, gently picking the pace up to allow for a quicker cycle of internal stimulation. “Everything, everything about you,” he murmured, “it’s like you’re made of porcelain, I’m so scared of breaking you. Fuck, Wesker, you have no idea how wild you drive me.”
“Please Chris, we’ve been m-married for mnh… ah… too long to ignore it,” Wesker choked out, breath catching a little with the rising bumps of Chris’ hips to his ass, and the light slap of their skin. “Th-though I can’t quite understand w-why.”
“Seriously?” Chris groaned, “god, Wesker, have you seen yourself? Heard yourself? You’re goddamn irresistible.”
Wesker’s eyes finally opened again, and he peered up at Chris with a flustered and aggrieved expression carved into his usually so still visage. “Only an idiot like you could think such a way,” he said with a hint of appreciation in his tight tone.
“Yeah. I know.” Chris brought a kiss to Wesker’s lips once more, passionate and full of overflowing appreciation for his stubborn, shy husband.
He was moving at a relative pace now, thrusts deep and angled, only pulling out a little before thrust flush to Wesker’s ass. Regular, strong strokes that had them both sighing and moaning in quiet pleasure drawn from one another’s bodies.
Whilst he himself enjoyed it rough and crass, Chris knew Wesker liked it best gentle. It drew out his loveliest sounds, collapsed him into a puddle of a man lost in pleasure and wonder.
Realising Wesker had lost the ability to stroke himself now, Chris put his right hand over Wesker’s, guiding the strokes of the man’s cock to the rhythm of his thrusts, and he watched in flush glory as Wesker’s eyelashes fluttered and he moaned deep and sincere, looking down to watch as Chris pleasured him from two sides. Wesker's insides fit him like a glove, snug to his cock as he took him with a controlled need, skin snapping to skin, erogenous zones stroked and rubbed and kissed as Chris took Wesker to be his own.
"Chris-“ he choked out, “fuck, Chris…”
“Does it feel good, love?” Chris whispered, eager to bring Wesker closer to the orgasm he deserved. “Damnit Wesker, you feel like fucking heaven.”
Perspiration was beading on Wesker’s forehead now, and in short sharp breaths he was barely clinging to Chris’ words, fingers digging deep into Chris’ skin. He was lost in it, concentrated so intently he seemed to forget Chris had even spoken to him.
Chris was kissing him again before he could stop himself, letting Wesker bite at his lips and tongue as he clung on for dear sanity, before the older man’s head tipped back and he tightened his legs around Chris. “W-wait, Chris-“
“It’s okay, Albert, let go,” Chris ground his hips up, rubbing the sweetspot that was making Wesker moan and melt beneath him, “I’m close too, fuck, I’ve been close since I first touched you.”
Wesker was breathing heavier, face screwing up into almost a scowl as Chris pumped him quick and deft with knowledgeable flicks of his wrist. Wesker was shuddering, muttering to himself as he tried to push Chris' hand away, little glassy tears forming in his blond eyelashes as he gasped and jerked, throwing his head side to side as if looking around desperately for an escape from the waves and waves of inescapable pleasure. He was nowhere near as strong as Chris these days, pinned down and at the mercy of his younger lover entirely.
"Chris, I can't-" he choked out.
Chris kissed the tears from his eyes, grinding circles into the swollen prostate forcing Wesker over the boundaries of control. "Accept it, love, it's yours."
Wesker suddenly threw his head back with a gasp, and Chris felt hot liquid spill out between his fingers. Chris didn't hesitate to bring it to his lips, licking the thick ejaculate with a vile kind of hunger.
"Fuck... you're so sexy, fuck..."
But Wesker didn't reply, lost in his own world as he tried to recover from the intensity of an orgasm he hadn't expected to come so soon, still clinging tight to Chris as though he might lose himself should he dare to pull away. He was still flush,
Hips still thrusting, he slipped his hands now to grasp Wesker’s hips, holding the man steady as he shook and disintegrated after the sweet release of his orgasm. He was still panting, skin glowing in the gold light, pink from his chest up.
“God, I fucking love you,” Chris muttered, pressing his face into Wesker’s exposed neck and huffing the man’s pheromones as he thrust a little faster, nearing his own orgasm. He could feel Wesker’s arms wrapping around his shoulders, and the older man lean into his skin to share in the trembling heat.
Chris came, uttering a little curse under his breath as he spilled his filth inside his gorgeous, debauched husband. For a good long moment, they held one another, panting for air unwilling to peel apart in the afterglow of deep pleasure after too long a time.
As Chris tried to move, Wesker only held him tighter, his face hidden in Chris’ broad shoulder.
“Don’t. Not yet.” It was a growl. An order.
“What, you wanna keep me inside?” Chris teased softly, kissing the lobe of Wesker’s ear, “that good, huh?”
“You may be an adult now Chris, but you’re still a little brat,” Wesker said shrewdly, “I just…” he sighed again, “just lie on top of me for a while. I don’t feel like getting up yet.”
“Yes, sir.” Chris settled himself down, his own muscular body pressed down to Wesker’s slightly slimmer, softer one. He could feel his semen dripping from around his cock out of the man, and made a mental note to wash the sheets in the morning. But for now, all he wanted was to hold his husband, and breathe in his presence. He could feel Wesker’s heart thudding against his chest, feel the tight embrace from the man who found it so difficult to find the right words when things turned to emotion. Wesker was only ever like this after Chris had made love to him, as though he were humiliated in his satisfaction, shy about his actions.
Chris took his time stroking Wesker’s hair, feeling the man’s heart rate return to normal. Perhaps it was overwhelming for him to finally accept Chris this way after years of quite the opposite, a humiliation at allowing himself to be taken. Particularly after resisting the urges of Chris’ seduction for so very long. Wesker was a stickler for regulations – and as Chris’ ex lecturer, he had found it very difficult not only to indulge in their relationship, but to relax well enough to enjoy it. At first, anyhow. But Chris’ love had worn down his rough edges, brought him into a kinder light. And taught Wesker how to find comfort in another person. It was as though he had never even done so before.
After a little while of holding one another, Chris’ soft cock slipped out, and he gently rolled off of Wesker to lie beside him. He glanced to the man, whose eyes were shut, and lips were pressed closed and gently pushed back some of Wesker’s loose hair from his face. This prompted Wesker to turn and look at him, a strange expression on his face. Somewhere between stern adoration, and nauseous guilt.
“You alright?” Chris asked with a knowing smile.
“How can I not be, my dear? You take far too much care to see that I am.” Half annoyed, half thankful.
Chris had to admit that was probably true enough. “Shall we shower together? Maybe have a bit more fun before you fall asleep, old man?"
“You,” Wesker began accusingly, reverting back to his normal tone, “need to eat your dinner, young man.”
Chris laughed, and leaned over to plant a loving kiss to Wesker’s lips. “You’re right, I’m starving. Reconvene in a bit then for round two?”
Wesker grabbed the back of his head, and pulled him down again for another firm kiss, and a resounding; “do you want me to die, Redfield?”
Half an hour later, they were back in bed together, the light finally switched off. Limbs entwined under the heavy winter duvet, Chris had wrapped himself around Wesker, keeping his face close to Wesker’s neck, breathing in his scent with absolute euphoria. It felt good to have him back where he belonged in his arms. The window beyond showed only the heavy snowfall’s glittering in the streetlight from below, and the world was still and quiet.
“You could retire, y’know,” Chris said softly into the comfortable darkness, “I earn more than enough to keep us going.”
Wesker had a distinct smirk in his voice as he replied; “you wish to keep me as a kept lover, Chris? Dear me, I’ve never had something so flattering be asked of me. But I rather enjoy my work, I have a lot to finish before I can retire.”
“Well, cut down on your hours then. I miss you when you’re gone for ages, y’know?”
Wesker sighed comfortably. “Oh I know, Chris. I would have thought you would’ve grown bored of me by now, but your passion and persistence still amazes me after all this time.”
Chris kissed the nape of Wesker’s neck. “Because I love you, you ridiculous old bastard. And I will do forever.”
Wesker moved back slightly, as if trying to get closer into Chris’ embrace. “You are lucky you’re quite so lovely, Chris, else I might’ve tried to kill you years ago from your incessant determination alone. Never did I think I would break my morals and sleep with a student.”
“Yeah, I know,” Chris grinned, “I was the only one who could. Still can. I know you feel the same way as me, after all this time. It wasn't a mistake, I know that.”
“How can you be so sure? You’re still that same bold brat from before.”
“Oh, just a few hints,” Chris stroked over Wesker’s hip, “that and the fact you actually married me. You’re too serious to joke about that kind of thing. Even I was surprised when you accepted my proposal.”
Wesker exhaled softly, and Chris knew he’d hit at least one nail on the head.
He planted another kiss to the skin below Wesker’s ear. “I can wait forever to hear you say it, it won’t change how I feel about you, how I care for you. Y’know that, Wesker.”
Vulnerability. It was something Chris knew that Wesker had little experience with until they met. And yet here they were, almost twenty years down the line embraced wearing nothing more than a wedding band each.
“You are quite the special man, Chris,” there was an edge of quiet reflection to Wesker’s voice this time, “and you know more than you seem to realise.”
“Well, I couldn’t let some other, boring-er man take you before I could.”
Wesker chuckled. “You are a fool.”
“I know. A happy one though.”
“Then as am I.”
A little while later when their small talk had faded, and Chris had begun to drift into the realm of comfortable sleep, he became aware of Wesker slipping out from his arms and getting out of bed.
Through his lashes, he watched his lover stand by the window for a good long while, watching the snow fall as he played with the gold ring adorning his ring finger. A shameless, giddy smile on his happy years-worn face.