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Once again, it had been a heinous day.
A string of murder cases revolving around children had left you bone-weary, exhaustion carving out your body like a dog gnawing on a bone. Your heart ached, stomach tied in knots, and worst of all, you hadn’t eaten in days. Chris and Jill had forced you to snack on things throughout the week, but you couldn’t stomach more than a few chips here, half a sandwich there. No one could, really, not after looking over the gruesome case files day in and day out.
Although your day was downright awful, you had caught the guy responsible - some ex-Umbrella asshole with too much money and chemicals in his possession. You knew the press were going to have an absolute field day with your team’s main sponsor.
That was someone else’s problem though. Right now your problem was sitting right in front of you - a blank police report waiting to be filled with the vile and vicious details of your week. The cursor flashed steadily, taunting you to put to words the living nightmare you had been stuck in.
You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself. It’s over, you told yourself, it’s fine, you’re fine-
A broad, warm grip on your shoulder, and your eyes shot open. You reared your head to look over your shoulder, caught off guard by the touch, and you sucked in a breath at the sight behind you.
Captain Wesker looked just as ragged as you, his hair uncharacteristically ruffled and his sunglasses balancing low on his nose. His blue eyes were narrowed at you, his icy gaze calculating as it roamed your face.
“You’ve been staring at that monitor for nearly half an hour.” His voice was a low murmur, barely a rumble in the quiet room. You frowned, turning away to see - oh. The S.T.A.R.S. office was empty, except for the two of you. You would be embarrassed to be the last one working so late, having not even started your last report, but all you could really think about was how exhausted you were.
“Sorry, Captain-”
“Don’t.” He cut you off curtly, his hand sliding off your shoulder, his fingertips lingering just a second long enough for you to notice. You met his gaze again, and were surprised to see the same weary expression across his face. “You’re barely awake, just finish it tomorrow. It’s already been a week - one more day won’t hurt anything.”
It was odd for him to be so flippant about a report, especially on a case as large as this, but you didn’t have the energy to fight him. You just nodded and turned your computer off, slumping back in your chair. It was silent for a moment, but not awkward, as if you were both lost in separate thoughts.
“You should be home, asleep already.” Wesker’s voice jolted you awake. You hadn’t even realized your eyes were closed. You swallowed and blinked groggily a few times, trying to clear the fog from your mind.
“Wouldn’t be able to sleep even if I was home,” You muttered, leaning forward to start lazily gathering your things into your bag.
“You seem to be sleeping well enough here.”
You glared up at his smug expression, his eyes peering at you over the top of his sunglasses. You considered him for a moment, and then sighed. “There’s not noisy neighbors here, or-”
You clenched your jaw and stopped yourself. No way could you tell him you were having nightmares. He wasn’t your boyfriend, as much as your lovesick brain wished he was. Even still, he narrowed his eyes at you like he was searching your mind for answers himself.
Without warning he stepped closer, directly beside you, and dropped his hand on your shoulder again. Just as you turned your upper body to face his (directly inside your personal bubble, by the way) he was pulling you against him.
The way your cheek pressed into him was a little uncomfortable, neck strained at an odd angle, and your arms unable to reach to touch him back. He was stiff as a board above you, hand clenched around the back of your neck like he had to keep you pressed in place.
Oh. He was trying to comfort you, the same way you had comforted him. It had been weeks ago, you were a little surprised he even remembered it. You huffed a laugh, much more awake at your sudden realization. He let you pull away reluctantly, grip lingering on your neck like he wasn’t allowed to touch you anywhere else.
He looked even more uncomfortable than you had felt pressed into his stomach. You couldn’t help an amused smile. “You’re not very good at this, you know.”
Wesker scowled and his cheeks and nose were dusted pink. “You didn’t have to say it out loud.”
His obvious embarrassment made you laugh again. The stoic man could light up your day with just a look, and now here he was - struggling to give you comfort as easily as he could accept it. You turned in your seat, pushing your knees between his as he grunted above you, widening his stance just a bit. When you raised your head to meet his gaze again, he was pulling his sunglasses off, folding them into the open collar of his uniform.
You let your hands touch his outer thighs, hesitantly sliding them up until you could hook your fingers in his pockets. The Captain didn’t stop you, just hummed low and put his hand back on the nape of your neck. He squeezed, just once, before he spoke. “You need more than a nap at your desk, honey.”
The pet name sent a jolt through you, burning up your neck and cheeks and making your fingers tighten their hold on his pockets, inadvertently tugging him closer. He didn’t move, seemingly tense himself. “Did that make you uncomfortable?”
“No- no! I liked it, actually.” You mumbled bashfully. His hand slid around your neck to raise your chin, forcing you to look into his sharp blue eyes again. He paused for a moment, eyes roaming your face, before he thumbed carefully at your lower lip. He seemed deep in thought, though his blush was gone and his expression was cold.
“I was going to sleep here tonight, in the quiet room. You’re welcome to… join me, if you like.” He grit out the words like it was painful to ask, and you couldn’t respond except to huff a laugh at his awkwardness again.
You could sleep here, you’ve done it before. The beds weren’t comfortable, and the lights couldn’t be turned off because of the chance of a sudden emergency. It sounded more appealing than driving all the way home in the dark, just to collapse at home exhausted and alone. At the very least you would be warm next to another body.
“I just can’t have you crashing on the way home,” His voice was gruff, like he even had to justify the request. “Chris already totaled a cruiser this year, it was hell explaining that in the budget-”
“Yes, Captain, I’ll sleep here.”
Wesker froze mid-sentence, and then nodded. “Good.” He backed away a few steps to let you stand, waiting patiently for you to gather your things. The walk to the quiet room was thick with an awkward silence, and you couldn’t figure out why. Usually the two of you were close in private, having soft, heated conversation with lingering touches and teasing names. Now it felt like he could barely stand the thought of looking at you, much less sleeping in the same room.
He held open the thick wooden door for you, and you huffed as you stepped through. The room was ice cold, as usual, and the lights had been dimmed since you last slept here. The room was small enough that it took just a few steps for you to drop your bag onto the bottom bunk you usually slept in and Wesker cleared his throat. You turned to face him, and he was positioned stiffly next to the bunk closest to the door.
“I usually sleep in this one.” He looked pained again, his eyes narrowed like he was accusing you of stealing his spot, despite being across the room. You tilted your head in confusion, and then your eyes widened. He actually meant to join him, like, in the same bed.
Wesker seemed ready to take it back, poised to escape the room the second you rejected him, but you did the opposite. You dropped your bag at his feet and kicked it under the bed, dropping to the thin mattress and beginning to untie your boots. He stood still at your side for a second before sitting beside you, taking off his boots and tucking his sunglasses under the bed as well.
When you looked back up at him he seemed much more relaxed, like the possibility of your rejection had been his greatest fear. Now that you were beside him, slouching in exhaustion, his easy air was back.
You don’t wait for him as you slide under the scratchy blanket, unable to pull it over your shoulders until he stands and his weight releases the other edge. It’s hard to get comfortable when it feels like you’re laying on cardboard, but you tell yourself it’s just one night. Hell, probably just a few hours. No way did Wesker have a night to waste cuddling you, of all things.
You’re just laying next to each other now. You look over and his eyes are closed, but his breathing tells you he’s still awake. You aren’t so sure what to do now, insecurity beginning to take hold. Had he meant cuddling? Or did he just want to-
“Stop staring, you’re thinking loud enough that I can almost hear it.”
A blush paints you red as his gruff voice breaches the silence of the cold room. He’s got an arm around your shoulder to tuck you into his side before you can protest, and you’re not surprised to feel how warm he is. He’s like a heater even when he’s just pressed against you in his office, but now you’re not sure you’ll even need the itchy blanket at all. He shifts onto his side, just enough that you’re not straining your neck to rest on his shoulder while using his bicep as a pillow.
You’re face to face now, Wesker tilting his chin to brush your noses together in an unusually sweet gesture. It makes you blush and smile, and you’re suddenly hit with the intimacy of this closeness.
“Sorry.” If you leaned forward, just an inch, your lips would be brushing with each word passed between the two of you. He huffs, and it feels for a moment like you’re sharing the same breath.
“Get comfortable,” he grumbles, eyes slipping shut. “I’m not letting you up until you have to clock in tomorrow.”
You suck in a breath and nearly squeak when he squeezes you tighter and slots a thigh between yours, lifting one of your legs to prop over his. He slides his free hand down and cleanly pulls your leg up to his hip, and now you’re truly slotted together like puzzle pieces. There is no way he isn’t doing this on purpose.
You can tell he feels your heart pounding through your chest by the way he smirks, tilting forward that single inch to brush your lips together. “Something wrong?”
“I thought you wanted me to sleep,” You narrow your eyes at him and resist the urge to kiss him - he’s so close, and so warm, and it would be so easy. Thankfully he makes the choice for you, slotting your lips together in some lazy semblance of affection, his tongue sliding along your lower lip when he tugs on it, his bite gentle but firm. It makes you press impossibly closer, a breathy moan escaping before you can catch it.
He releases your mouth and chuckles, squeezing his hand around your hip and bumping your noses together again. “You are going to sleep. I was serious about keeping you here as long as I need to.”
You’re starting to feel the first crawl of desperation in your core, and you have to close your eyes and count your breaths to fight it off. “We can’t…postpone sleeping? Just a little longer?”
That pulls a real laugh out of him, something low and pleasant. He lifts his head to tuck you under his chin, and here you can hear the solid thump of his heartbeat. “The first time I fuck you won’t be in a precinct bed, lamb. Go to sleep, and maybe you’ll get a reward in the morning.”
That sends an electric jolt through you, and now there’s no way you’re sleeping, not with his hips slotted against yours and him gripping a handful of your ass and the thought of him fucking you bouncing around in your head. He doesn’t say another word though, and you find yourself slowly dozing off despite yourself.
He’s gone the next morning, of course, but he can’t have been gone long with the way you’re wrapped around his warm pillow. You can hear the bustle of the early officers outside, and you roll onto your back and cover your face in your hands. You’re fucked.