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Chris followed Wesker’s lead down the darkened hallway. The team had split up into pairs, each tackling a separate floor of the abandoned warehouse that was being used as a hub for drug trafficking. That was their current mission, to apprehend the operation’s leaders and bring them to justice—they just had to find the damn guys first.
In front of him, Wesker held up a hand and Chris stopped in his tracks, locking his gaze onto what Wesker had noticed first. A door up ahead stood cracked open, causing a small beam of light to streak through the blackened hall. Straining his ears, Chris could just hear the low murmur of a voice coming from within.
“Targets located. Requesting back-up on the third floor,” Wesker whispered into his earpiece. The man paused as he received his response and then slowly continued his advance, gesturing to Chris to follow.
Chris did so without question. He stopped to crouch on one side of the door while Wesker silently moved across the hall to do the same on the other.
Their gazes met and Wesker held up a hand again, this time counting them down to enter.
5
4
3
2
1
“R.P.D., S.T.A.R.S.! PUT YOUR HANDS UP!” Chris barged into the room—Wesker on his heels—shouting the command the way he’d been trained to do and sweeping his gun back and forth across the room to make the threat known.
Except… The room was empty.
Chris stopped in confusion, slowly lowering his gun while he took in the information.
A naked bulb lit the space—a small square shaped room housing a few lockers along one wall, with a table pushed into a corner that held a radio that crackled as it played.
Wesker stalked across the room and turned the device off, plunging them into silence. He touched his earpiece and spoke into it with an obvious irritation, “False alarm. Return to your stations and continue to search as planned.”
Removing his hand from the device, Wesker directed Chris to leave the room with a short jerk of his head. “Let’s go. We’ll be lucky if your proclamation didn’t scare them off the premises.”
“Hey! That’s not fair! I was just doing what you taught me. How was I supposed to know that it was a radio!? Besides, you’re here and you didn’t realize it was radio either.”
Wesker turned sharply and gave Chris a look that would’ve made any other member of their team shiver.
Chris didn’t mind though. Wesker was always like that, he was uptight and didn’t like people questioning his authority, but Chris knew that he was right and that Wesker wouldn’t punish him because his Captain knew that too. It made Wesker a good leader, he didn’t let his own feelings cloud his judgement—Chris respected him for that.
Wesker continued to look at him for a moment longer with a hardened gaze and when Chris didn’t waver under the pressure, his Captain turned away without another word and walked back out into the hallway.
Chris lingered in the room before following him out. Something felt off in there, but he couldn’t tell what or why. He tried to shrug off the feeling as he took his spot at Wesker’s back while they moved through the silent corridor. Wesker was better at noticing things like that, if there really was something off about the room then he would’ve said so.
But that feeling of unease refused to leave him as they slowly moved from room to room, checking for any signs of inhabitants and each time coming up empty.
“Captain…” he whispered, wanting to get Wesker’s attention without wholly breaking the silence blanketing them.
“What is it?” Wesker tilted his head in acknowledgement while he peered into the next darkened room.
“We should go back to that room with the radio… something about it is bothering me.”
Wesker’s eyes continued to search the room in front of him before he turned his gaze onto Chris. “Very well. I trust your judgment on this.”
Chris felt a lightness spread through him at Wesker’s words. His Captain trusted him.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” he replied enthusiastically, beginning his way back down the hallway they came from at a hurried pace.
A hand on his shoulder made him pause. Wesker stood just behind him, leaning over so his mouth was level with Chris’s ear, his warm breath making Chris’s skin tingle as he whispered, “Calm down. Your willingness to please will not help us if you alert our enemies to our location.”
Chris willed his body to still, grounding himself under the weight of Wesker’s touch. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.”
The word settled itself against Chris’s skin, seeping down into his core.
Wesker withdrew his hand and took charge again, leading them back to the room.
Back inside, the room was exactly how they had left it. The radio was still off, leaving the room in a silence only broken by the faint buzz of electricity coming from the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.
Wesker moved off to the side, giving Chris the space to re-examine the room and voice his opinion of the situation.
Chris appreciated that, although he wasn’t yet sure what about the room had lodged itself into his mind. Most of the authority figures Chris had met didn’t care about his opinions, they wrote him off as being too loud and arrogant, but Wesker was different. Wesker actually wanted to hear what he had to say, he took his thoughts seriously—even when he didn’t need to. Chris was certain he’d never meet anyone else like that for as long as he lived.
“I think the voices we heard were real. Not just the radio,” he said suddenly, the pieces suddenly clicking into place in his mind, “I mean… think about it, the radio sounded all static-y when we came in, but the voice sounded clear from out in the hallway.”
Chris knew he had Wesker’s attention. The Captain’s posture seemed to straighten even more than it already was, and the corners of his mouth ticked upward an almost unnoticeable amount, the way Chris had noticed they always did when he was pleased with something but didn’t want to show it.
“You think our perpetrators were in this room and used the radio to confuse us?” Wesker asked.
“Yes. I—”
"Don't be ridiculous,” Wesker cut him off, and raised a single hand to tell Chris not to interrupt. “This is an interior room with only one exit, which we had eyes on the entire time we made our approach. Any noises we heard came from that radio, nothing more.”
“But, Captain—”
“Silence,” Wesker growled.
Chris felt shame pit in his stomach at Wesker’s dismissal, but bit his complaints and watched as Wesker silently lifted his gun out of its holster and glanced at the lockers along the wall. Chris followed Wesker’s line of sight to the third locker in the line, its door just ever so slightly cracked open.
Oh.
“Yeah… yeah you’re right, Wesker. That was a stupid idea, we should get back to searching the rest of this building,” Chris replied, hoping he hadn’t already cost them the mission.
He moved on silent feet to stand guard at Wesker’s side, lifting his own gun to mirror Wesker’s movement. Wesker’s gaze landed on his own and the Captain gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head.
Chris quickly raised his gun at the ready and Wesker grabbed the locker door and flung it open. The metal clang of the door hitting the locker beside it boomed around them and broke the building’s silence.
It was empty.
“Well shit…” Chris cursed under his breath.
“Indeed.” Wesker sighed and reholstered his gun. He grabbed the door of the next locker in line and tugged at it, filling the room with the jangling sound of metal as the door stayed firmly shut. He then grabbed the door of another locker and repeated the motion, getting the same result. “The rest of these are locked. Your idea might have been correct, but our perpetrator ran off while we were busy searching elsewhere.”
“Should we head back the way we came from then, check all those rooms again?”
“Yes. I believe that would be our best course of action.” Wesker away from the line of lockers, moving towards the room’s center as he spoke into his earpiece. “Valentine. Recheck the east hallway on your floor, if you find nothing then set up a guard along the stairwell. I have reason to believe our suspect has fled in that direction.”
Chris stared at Wesker’s side profile while he talked. Watching the way his lips moved while he spoke, the way he could just see the corner of Wesker's eye from this angle. He wondered what color his eyes were. He bet they were gorgeous. All of Wesker was gorgeous—not that he’d ever seen him outside of his S.T.A.R.S. uniform. But god, was he attractive. Wesker was easily the hottest person he’d ever seen in his life.
It took him a moment to realize that Wesker had long since stopped talking and was now watching him with interest. Chris felt his face heat up under the pressure of Wesker’s gaze.
“If you’re done gawking at me, I believe we have a job to do,” Wesker stated simply.
There was irritation in his tone but, Chris noticed, no judgement.
Did Wesker know what he had been thinking? He couldn't know… right? He only stared at Wesker sometimes… like… everyday when the Captain came into the office and Chris wondered how he always got his hair so perfect and if he’d ever take those stupid sunglasses off. Or that one time when he’d lost himself staring at Wesker while the Captain was talking to Barry about their new weapons and Wesker had told him to “stop fantasizing about other people and get back to work already.”
Oh.
Oh god, he definitely knew.
“R-right! Let’s go!” Chris stammered out, tearing his eyes away from where Wesker was still staring at him. He could unpack this later, when Wesker wasn’t standing right next to him.
He could tell Wesker was giving him a funny look, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at him again. Instead, he turned around to look at the other side of the room, just in time to see the one locker Wesker hadn’t tested start to swing open.
“Wesker!”
Before he knew what he was doing, Chris whirled around and tackled Wesker. As their bodies hit the ground together, a gunshot went off and a bullet flew through the space where the Captain had previously been standing. A heavy set of footsteps stormed out of the room, echoing as they escaped down the hallway.
Chris had Wesker’s body trapped on the ground beneath his own, his head against Wesker’s collarbone. He felt heat flush through his body as the reality of it suddenly hit him. He started to push himself up on his arms. “Shit, Wesker, are you alright? I—” Chris stopped mid-sentence, any trace of coherent thought leaving his body as he found himself staring into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen in his life.
Wesker’s glasses had flown off somewhere when Chris had tackled him, leaving his eyes wide open in suprise—although they quickly narrowed in focus as Wesker looked up at him.
Chris just stared at him. He couldn’t bring himself to move. He had been right, Wesker’s eyes were gorgeous. A beautiful icy blue. He wanted to look at them forever.
“Get off of me,” Wesker growled from under him.
Chris blinked, not understanding.
Wesker’s mouth twitched in displeasure and without warning he threw his body weight and flipped their positions. Chris found himself out of breath as his back hit the concrete floor.
Wesker looked down at him, his gaze hardened and searching. Chris saw something he couldn’t decipher pass through his features and for a second he was almost convinced that Wesker would lean over and kiss him.
But then Wesker pushed himself upright and walked away. He pushed a few strands of hair back that had fallen out of place and brushed down his uniform. He didn’t look back at Chris.
Chris got off the floor himself while Wesker started barking orders to the rest of the team over the radio. He looked around until he spotted Wesker’s sunglasses on the ground and picked them up—half-hoping that they were broken so Wesker wouldn’t put them back on. The glasses were intact, though, so Chris reluctantly went over and held them out to Wesker.
Wesker snatched them from him and put them on, giving Chris a stern glare as he did so.
Chris felt like he could die from that look alone. Wesker's eyes were so… intense. Is that why he always wore the glasses? So people wouldn’t think he was quite so intimidating? If that’s what it was, it wasn’t working. Everybody on the team seemed to think that the Captain was plenty mean and intimidating, if they had something to say to him they’d send Chris in instead. Chris seemed to be the only one who wasn’t scared of him.
Wesker spoke to him then, bringing his thoughts back to the present. “Valentine has apprehended our runaway suspect. Burton and Frost have requested back-up in restraining the remaining offenders, who have holed themselves up on the basement level.”
The Captain didn’t wait for a response, he swept out of the room as soon as he finished speaking and left Chris to follow behind him.
The rest of the mission passed successfully. After securing the runaway guy in the transport van, Jill rejoined the group and together the team was able to apprehend the remaining drug dealers without issue.
Now outside the building, Chris stood beside one of the cars the R.P.D. had loaned them for the mission. The headlights of the prison transport truck and a lone streetlamp provided the only illumination in the dark expanse of the night.
The rest of the team had already left back for the R.P.D., trying to get a headstart on writing up the mission reports Wesker would be expecting by morning. But Chris was still here. Wesker was a few paces away, speaking to the man in the driver’s seat of the transport truck.
Chris just watched him. He couldn’t get the image of Wesker's eyes out of his mind. He wanted to see them again. He wanted to take Wesker’s sunglasses off and hold the man’s face in his hands. He wanted to stare into those bright blue eyes and feel Wesker’s breath against his face and he wanted to lean in and…
“Daydreaming again, Redfield?”
Chris jumped, feeling himself blush bright red. Wesker was standing right next to him, watching him with amusement. He looked around quickly, the transport truck was gone. How long had Wesker been watching him?
“Y-yeah… Wait. I mean, no. No I wasn’t,” he stammered.
Great cover up, Chris. The Captain will surely believe that. He cringed inwardly.
“Really?” Wesker drawled. “You seemed quite lost in the clouds there… Whatever could be occupying your thoughts so much?”
You, Chris thought.
“Why I’m flattered, Chris, but I don’t think fantasizing about your boss is appropriate work behavior,” Wesker spoke with a smirk.
Fuck. He’d said that out loud hadn’t he?
“Who said I was fantasizing?” he retorted, hoping Wesker would buy it. “Maybe I was thinking about asking you a question about how to write up the paperwork for this case.”
“I see,” Wesker crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, “then ask away.”
“I…” Chris racked his brain to think of any possible question to ask to back-up his lie.
He had nothing.
“Fine. I wasn’t going to ask you a question.”
He let out a loose puff of breath and let his gaze drift away from Wesker’s face, down to look at the shine of the Captain’s boots against the asphalt.
“You’re not going to fire me for this… Right?”
“Why would I do that?” Wesker sounded genuinely confused by the question.
Chris snapped his head back up to meet Wesker’s gaze, the man looked taken aback by his comment.
“I don’t care what you think about me,” Wesker waved a hand in dismissal as he spoke, “but I would prefer that you save your daydreaming for when we aren’t in the middle of a mission. I don’t want any more repeats of earlier.”
“Of when I was staring at you while you were talking to Jill on the radio?” he asked, tentatively.
“Of when you tackled me to the ground and refused to get off of me,” Wesker stated plainly.
“Hey! I saved you! That guy shot a gun at you, you would’ve gotten hit if I hadn’t done that!”
Wesker didn’t seem moved by his bravery. “In case you forgot, we’re both wearing bullet-proof vests. The man aimed for my chest. I would have been fine, and even if the bullet had hit one of my extremities, then I would still only be dealing with a few week’s recovery. Recovery that I could complete from my office where I could continue to do my job as your Captain, a job that I could not accomplish while trapped under you.”
Chris suddenly remembered the way Wesker had looked at him after the man had flipped their positions and flushed red-hot.
Was Wesker…?
Did he…?
“You didn’t seem too upset about me tackling you when you were on top,” Chris said, testing the waters.
Wesker’s gaze stayed leveled at Chris, but a faint pink began to color his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do. When you had me pinned you looked pretty pleased about it.”
“Stop talking,” Wesker hissed at him.
“Make me,” Chris retorted.
Wesker walked forward so they stood face-to-face, mere inches separating them. “And how would you suggest I do that?” Wesker asked, and Chris could feel his breath on his face.
Chris grinned. “Take off your glasses again and I’ll consider it.”
Wesker glowered at him, but relented. He took his sunglasses off and tucked them into the collar of his shirt, exposing icy blue eyes that seemed to stare right into Chris’s soul.
Chris felt his breath hitch at the sight.
“Happy now?” Wesker spoke between clenched teeth.
“Yes,” Chris breathed. He brought a hand up and placed it on Wesker’s cheek, staring into his eyes all the while.
To his surprise, Wesker didn’t pull away.
He leaned in closer, until he could feel Wesker’s breath ghosting against his lips.
Wesker’s gaze flickered, like something had overcome him, and he grabbed the collar of Chris’s shirt in tight fists—pushing Chris backwards until he hit the car behind him, pinning him in place.
Wesker stared at him for another moment and then, impossibly, Wesker kissed him.
Chris melted into the feeling, it was everything he had ever wanted. Wesker’s lips were hot and heavy against his own, claiming him with a fervent passion. He slid his hand around to the back of Wesker’s neck—feeling blonde hair under his fingertips—and grabbed at Wesker’s waist with his other, bringing them closer together.
Wesker pushed him back further against the side of the car as their bodies pressed together, leaving no space between them.
When Wesker eventually pulled away Chris was breathless, elated, he couldn’t believe that had actually happened—that Wesker wanted Chris the same way Chris wanted him.
He stared into Wesker’s eyes, they seemed softer then, not the hardened steel they were when Wesker first took his glasses off.
Chris smiled.
“I don’t think making out with your boss is appropriate work behavior either,” he laughed lightly as he spoke, giddy with happiness.
“It’s a good thing we’re not on the clock then,” Wesker replied, and kissed him again.