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Chris was plotting something.
Wesker wasn’t sure what, exactly, but even without his more… intimate… knowledge of how Redfield’s mind worked, it was easy to notice how Chris’s thoughts had been far up in the clouds over the past week. Not to mention how he’d noticed Chris whispering about with his colleagues whenever he thought Wesker wasn’t paying attention.
Wesker walked over to the closed blinds of his office windows and pulled down a single slat so he could peek out into the main space of the S.T.A.R.S. office.
Sure enough, Chris was up out of his desk. He stood next to Joseph Frost and the two looked to be engaged in a hushed conversation, they had their heads turned away from Wesker’s windows just enough so that Wesker wasn’t able to read their lips as they spoke. Chris turned his head to look across the room, and Wesker could make out him saying “Jill,” before the young woman got up out of her own chair and crossed the room to join their conversation. The conspiracy continued for another few moments while Wesker watched silently. Chris shook his head in regards to something Valentine had said and the young man’s gaze slid across the room to stare directly at the gap in the blinds Wesker was spying on them from.
Wesker quickly dropped the slat and sat back down in his chair, pretending to busy himself with reading a file from the stack of paperwork on his desk.
No sooner had he settled himself into his seat then Chris opened the door to his office and slipped inside.
“Redfield,” he said, not looking up from the paper he was pretending to read, “what can I help you with?”
“Can I talk to you about something?”
“I believe you already are.”
“You know what I mean by that,” Chris said, and shut the door to Wesker’s office behind him.
Wesker placed the file down on his desk and raised an eyebrow, waiting for Chris to continue.
Chris took in a breath, like he was preparing himself for something important. “Can you keep your schedule clear for this Saturday, the 20th?”
“Why?”
“Well…” Chris fidgeted with his hands. “I’d like it if you could do something with me this weekend.”
“And that something is…?” Wesker asked. He so wished Chris would just tell him what he wanted rather than trying to talk around it.
“It’s a surprise?” Chris phrased the statement like a question, and gave Wesker a weak smile.
Wesker’s gaze hardened. “You know I don’t like surprises. Tell me what you have planned or you can be sure that I will find myself busy that day.”
Chris sighed, his cheeks blushing a light pink. “I rented a cabin in the mountains for the weekend… I wanted to know if you could go up there with me.”
Ah. A romantic gesture, Chris was fond of those things.
Wesker steepled his fingers and thought about the proposition. He was free this weekend and, although he didn’t much care for the romance of the thing, a short trip away from the hustle and bustle of the center of Raccoon City did have its appeals. Not to mention that he did like the idea of having his point-man all to himself, without any unwanted distractions.
“Is this what you were speaking with Frost and Valentine about?” Wesker asked instead of answering.
Chris started. “Y-yeah… They were helping me plan things out. Y’know, with the location and all that.”
Wesker nodded. That made sense, Chris was colluding with his teammates to plan out his ideal date night. Chris would want everything to be perfect if he was asking Wesker to go along with it.
“Very well then,” Wesker replied, “I will keep my schedule clear for this weekend. I trust you will fill me in on the details before then?”
Chris’s eyes beamed as Wesker gave his confirmation. “Of course!” Chris nodded enthusiastically and left Wesker’s office, a large smile plastered on his face.
—
The aforementioned Saturday approached and Wesker stood outside the doorstep of his apartment, waiting for Chris to arrive. The cold air of late December bit through his jacket and he began to wonder why on earth he was waiting for Chris outside when he easily could have done the same from the comfort of his heated apartment.
He pulled the sleeve of his jacket up to view his watch, noted that Chris was already five minutes late, and was about to head back inside when Chris’s car came into view from around the corner.
Wesker walked down to the curb as Chris’s car slowed to a stop and he wordlessly walked around to place his bag in the trunk of the vehicle.
Chris practically ran out of the car to take Wesker’s bag from him before he could.
“I’ll get it for you!”
Wesker raised an eyebrow. “I know how to lift my own luggage.”
“I know. It’s just… umm… it’s a mess back there…” Chris trailed off, one hand reaching out to grab the bag from Wesker’s hand.
Wesker huffed, but let Chris take the bag from him. “Fine.” He climbed into the passenger seat while Chris loaded the car.
Job complete, Chris got back behind the wheel and started to drive them off.
“You were late,” Wesker noted, a bit annoyed. “If you’re going to invite me out, then the least you could do is actually show up on time.”
“It was only five minutes!”
Wesker glared at him. “Punctuality is important, Christopher.”
“Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll be perfectly on-time next time,” Chris grumbled, setting his gaze firmly on the road ahead.
Huh. Wesker gazed at Chris curiously—normally the man would’ve put up more of an argument… He must be worried about whatever he had planned for the evening. Chris had been being very cagey about the whole thing. Wesker supposed that was to be expected though, Chris seemed to enjoy surprising Wesker with one small romantic gesture or another, and he would want to make sure Wesker was happy now so that he would appreciate his thoughtfulness later.
Wesker catalogued this information, and let his mind wander as Chris drove them to their destination. At one point Chris tried to turn on the radio and Wesker gave the young man such a strong look that he nearly flinched under the gaze—the drive commenced in silence after that.
It was after the passed the city limits that Wesker noticed how Chris’s anxieties had seemed to worsen, the young man gripped the steering wheel tightly in a nervous apprehension and hadn’t once looked over at Wesker in the seat beside him. It was unlike him.
Something was wrong.
“Chris?” Wesker called the man’s name in questioning with all the false sweetness he could muster.
Chris tightened his grip on the steering wheel so his knuckles turned white under the pressure. “Y-yeah?”
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, leaning forward in his seat so he could better see Chris’s face.
“To the mountains. I told you this.” Chris refused to meet his gaze as he spoke.
“Yes, but I’m afraid I can tell that you’re keeping something from me.” Wesker kept his voice as smooth as honey despite his growing urge to shake Chris until the man gave him answers. It wouldn’t do if he scared Chris into crashing the car.
“I… uhh… fuck…” Chris stammered and then took in a shaky breath. “Just… don’t be mad, ok?”
All of the charm dripped out of Wesker’s voice at those words and he felt his body tighten with dread. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Chris spoke quickly. “It’s just… This might not be a trip just for the two of us… There might be a few other people coming…”
“Other people as in…?” he questioned, unable to keep the bite out of his voice.
“It’s just a few people! Just Jill… and Barry… and Joseph… and Brad… Richard… Forest… Enrico… Edward… Kenneth… ” Chris’s voice got smaller and smaller as he added more names to the list, not stopping until he named every individual on both S.T.A.R.S. teams. “…It’s just the whole S.T.A.R.S. divison… actually…” he ended, staring out the front window as he focused his concentration on driving the car taking them to their destination.
“And why is the entire S.T.A.R.S. division going to be there?”
“Ummm… for a Christmas Party?” Chris let out a nervous laugh. “It was my idea—I planned the whole thing… Sorry for tricking you! I just wasn’t sure if you’d come unless I got you in the car first… I know you don’t like all these ‘pointless social gatherings’ as you call them.”
Wesker took in the information and sat back into his seat in a stunned silence. Of all the things Chris Redfield had said and done during the time Wesker had known him, the man never stopped surprising him. Chris had somehow planned an entire social event right under his nose, and gotten him to agree to go, without him suspecting a thing.
“Are you ok…? I can still turn the car around if you’re that upset about it… I wasn’t lying about having the place for tomorrow too though, so it’ll be just us then.”
“Shut up. Keep driving,” Wesker snapped at him. He was too shocked at the turn of events to consider being as upset as he rightfully ought to be. Rather, he was impressed that the young man had managed to pull this off—not that he would ever admit such to Chris.
—
As they reached their destination, Chris parked the car by the side of a quaint log cabin and turned off the engine.
Wesker got out of the car and surveyed the front of the venue. It was a bit larger than he had been expecting, especially since he had thought it would only need to house two, but it was still on the smaller side. He imagined the space inside full of people as the S.T.A.R.S. team arrived, the hustle and bustle of many conversations taking place all at once in an enclosed space, bodies bumping against one another as they moved to-and-fro.
He had to repress a shudder.
Chris came around to stand beside him. “Nice, right? You have no idea how hard it was to find a place this last minute, not to mention on a day everybody could make it to.” Chris pulled a face. “And don’t get me started on trying to pool money together with everyone…”
Chris looked like he would very much like to get started on whatever tangent he had planned.
Wesker sighed, “You can tell me about it later.” He hoped that later Chris would have forgotten about the thought entirely and he would never have to hear it.
“Oh, yeah, you’re right. Help me get everything set up then.” Chris started to walk around to the trunk of the car.
“I’m sorry?” Wesker asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
Chris opened the trunk to reveal various bags and boxes overflowing with Christmas decorations—Wesker’s own luggage sitting haphazardly in the center of the assortment. Chris grabbed a box and turned to face Wesker. “We need to get all the decorations set up before everyone else shows up. Grab something and help me take it inside.”
Chris didn’t wait for an answer before taking his package up to the cabin, shifting to hold it in one arm while he unlocked the door.
Wesker watched him disappear inside the building. He pulled his own luggage out of the trunk—ignoring the Christmas decorations he was supposed to be helping with—and carried it inside after Chris.
The front door opened directly into the living room, there was a fireplace built into the wall, a couch and a set of chairs framing a coffee table, a Christmas tree already stood tall and awaited decoration, and, more surprisingly, there was a grand piano nestled into one corner.
Wesker walked over to the instrument. It was a gorgeous piece of work, and looked to be well-maintained. He placed his bag down and played a scale experimentally, smiling softly to himself as the notes sang out around him—it sounded well-maintained too.
Chris popped his head in from the next room, grinning. “I thought you would like that.”
Wesker whipped his head around to face him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Chris threw up his hands in mock surrender. “I just saw you had a piano in your apartment, so when I saw this place had one too, I thought you would like that.”
Oh. Wesker slowly nodded in agreement, he did have an upright piano in his own apartment—not that he ever had the time to play it, as his dual workloads between Umbrella and the S.T.A.R.S. team took up too much of his time. He had taught himself to play the instrument as an extracurricular when he was child, in-between lessons as he completed his rigorous education.
It was like Chris to notice something like that.
Chris must’ve noticed some change in his demeanor because the man came over and stood lightly by his shoulder. “Here,” Chris grabbed his bag off of the floor and started to carry it away, “the bedroom is this way.”
Wesker smirked, “Taking me to bed already, are you? What ever happened to your party plans?”
Chris stopped in his tracks and whirled around, his face an adorable shade of pink. “I… I was just going to put your bag away for you…”
Wesker crossed the space between and grabbed Chris’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting the man’s head so their gazes met. “So you don’t want me in bed with you? How disappointing,” he drawled.
Chris flushed, he looked torn between wanting to take Wesker to bed immediately and sticking to his original plans.
Wesker kept his grip on Chris’s chin and leaned over, kissing him slow and deep. He heard his bag hit the floor as Chris dropped it, the man’s hands coming up to wrap around his waist to pull him in closer. He let Chris hold onto him for a short moment before he pulled away, listening to Chris whine in protest.
“Now, now,” he chided, “I thought you had a party to prepare for?” He dropped his hold on Chris’s chin and grabbed his bag off the floor, sweeping off in the direction of where he believed the bedroom to be located.
After stowing away his personal belongings, Wesker walked through the cabin in search of Chris. He found him in the kitchen, the various boxes and bags from his car now piled up on a small dining table. Chris was tacking a strand of garland up along the doorframe that led into the living room and appeared to have changed as he now wore an absolutely hideous sweater.
“WHAT are you wearing?” Wesker asked, staring at the offensive garment with disdain. It was an appalling shade of almost neon-green, with colorful strands of garland crisscrossing around it, making Chris look like a walking Christmas tree.
Chris looked down at his shirt and then up at Wesker. “It’s a Christmas sweater.”
“Take it off.”
“No. It’s festive.”
“It’s hideous,” Wesker replied. He couldn’t believe Chris was arguing with him about this.
Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s supposed to be. Haven’t you seen an ugly Christmas sweater before?”
Wesker didn’t think he had ever heard the term. He couldn’t comprehend why on earth anyone would willingly put on such an abhorrent piece of clothing.
When he didn’t answer, Chris crossed the room to sort through one of his boxes and pulled out an equally distasteful looking garment and held it up with a devil-ish grin. “I got you one too.”
“Put that thing away. Now,” Wesker growled at him.
“Pleassseeee put it on, Wesker.” Chris gave him his most pitiful, puppy-dog-eyed expression.
“Absoluetly not.”
“But everyone else will be wearing one… You’ll be the only one left out if you don’t put it on.”
“Then they can all look like fools, but I will not be participating.”
“Awww… pretty please?” Chris pouted. “For me?”
This conversation was never going to end, was it?
“FINE.” Wesker swept across the room and snatched the garment from Chris’s grasp. “I will put this on to keep you happy, but if I hear another word about it, I will walk directly outside and continue walking until my feet freeze and I die of hypothermia.”
Chris just grinned. “Sure thing, Captain.”
Wesker retreated to the bedroom and changed into the sweater, looking at himself in the mirror when he had finished. He looked stupid. It was black, at least—Chris obviously knew better than to try and put him in something brightly colored—but it had the same cross-hatching of garland around it as the one Chris wore, making Wesker look like an absolute buffoon.
He sighed and turned away from the mirror. The things he did for that man.
He went back off to find Chris again, but the doorbell rang just as he entered the living space. He went over and opened it.
Valentine stood in the doorway, she had a case of beers in one hand and a plastic grocery bag in the other. She was also wearing a hideous looking sweater, hers was a light blue, with a three-dimensional snowman poking off the front.
Valentine looked at his own shirt and her mouth partially opened in surprise. “Did Chris…”
“JILL!” Chris suddenly appeared at Wesker’s shoulder and lightly pushed him out of the way. “Thanks for coming early to help set up!”
“Yeah… it’s no problem,” she replied, still giving Wesker uncertain glances as she walked inside. “I can’t believe Chris really got you to agree to come.”
“I didn’t,” he stated plainly.
“I… what?” Valentine looked confused.
“I didn’t agree to come,” he repeated.
“No! No… Wesker did agree to come… he just might not have known what he was agreeing to come to…” Chris interjected, trailing off as he spoke.
Valentine’s mouth gaped open and she looked between the two of them in surprise. “Chris, did you kidnap him!?”
“Yes,” Wesker replied, just as Chris responded with “No.”
“Oh my god.” Valentine shifted her load to carry it all in one hand, and with her free hand grabbed the sleeve of Chris’s sweater and pulled him off into the next room.
Wesker trailed after them, hovering outside the doorway so he could eavesdrop on their conversation while pretending to busy himself fixing a garland strand Chris had set up.
“Chris!” Valentine whispered, “I thought you said you could get him to agree to come!”
“He did agree!”
“He very clearly didn’t! What did you tell him he was coming here for!?”
“I… umm…”
“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” Valentine sighed heavily. “He’s going to kill you, you know.”
“No he won’t. I don’t know why you always get so worried that he’s going to yell at me.”
“Because he is! I’m telling you, as soon as everyone else leaves he’s going to try to torture you or some shit.”
Chris scoffed, “He won’t do that. I’ve got everything handled, trust me.”
“Chris…”
“It’s fine. Now help me finish setting everything up.”
Wesker heard Valentine sigh again, followed by the rustle of the bags as the two evidently decided to get to decorating. He took that as his cue to rejoin them, entering the room just as Chris opened up the bag Valentine had brought.
“Oh you found some! Sweet! All the stores I went to were sold out.”
“Found some what?” Wesker asked, looking between the large grin Chris was wearing and the pitiful expression Valentine gave him at the question. He glared at her, and she quickly dropped the look and went back to sorting through Christmas decorations.
Chris pulled out a headband with plush deer antlers and placed it on his head. The antlers had small, red and green colored bells on them that jingled as Chris moved his head.
“Pretty cool, right?” Chris asked.
Wesker frowned.
“There’s one for you too.” Chris continued grinning and pulled a second headband out of the bag, shaking it so the bells rang.
“If you so much as attempt to place that on my head I will break your wrist and fire you for insubordination,” he snapped.
“Alright, alright. I was just kidding.” Chris pouted and held the headband out to Valentine, who gave him what was very much an I told you so expression as she took it from him and placed it on her own head.
The decorating commenced in earnest then. Chris directed him on what decorations he had and where he wanted them and Wesker, in turn, took these instructions and passed them on to Valentine.
In no time at all, the cabin transformed itself into a Christmas filled haven that Wesker very much wanted to get away from.
And then the rest of the guests arrived.
Wesker took up a spot within the corner of the room, watching his subordinates enter and mingle amongst themselves, while making no effort to join festivities himself.
A few people complained of the cold, which led Valentine to quickly light a fire within the large fireplace, earning her the ooo's and ahh's of the crowd as she graciously bowed to their applause.
At one point Chris came over and placed a cold beer into his hands, their fingers brushing together as he did so. Chris stood with him for a moment in silent companionship. Chris turned to him, about to say something, when Frost hollered, “CHRIS!” and waved Chris over to where he was talking with Speyer. Chris mouthed “sorry” and gave Wesker an apologetic smile before leaving him.
Wesker watched them. Chris was the brightest in the room, he always was, all warm smiles and sunshine. Chris cracked a joke of some sort and Speyer roared in laughter. Frost clapped Chris on the back so hard it dislodged the antlers off his head. Chris righted his headband and pushed Frost away playfully, the three of them laughing at some joke between them.
Wesker cracked open his beer and sipped at the beverage, more because of a lack of anything to do than for any real want to drink it. He let his gaze roam across the room and observed each person within it in turn. Burton and Marini discussed something in front of the fireplace, where Sullivan joined them with another round of drinks. Vickers and Dewey were engaged in a heated discussion of some sort, their arms moving widely as they spoke. Valentine had inserted herself into the conversation with Chris, Frost, and Speyer, and laughed along with them. And finally Aiken slunk off into the kitchen, returning with a paper plate piled high with Christmas cookies.
Wesker took this all in and wondered what this same party would look like a year from now, two years from now—at some indeterminate point of time in the future. Would all these people still be here then? Would S.T.A.R.S. even exist in another year or two? He knew S.T.A.R.S. was always meant to be something more than a simple police team, he wondered how much longer until those plans came to fruition. Wesker would leave them then, of course. He didn’t plan to stay under Umbrella's thumb forever.
He thought about Chris. His sweet, darling, Chris. Would Chris come with him when the time came? He hoped Chris would. Now that he had known life with Chris in it, he couldn’t imagine a life without Chris by his side.
Wesker was snapped out of his reverie by a loud voice calling his name.
“Hey Captain! Play us a song!” Frost jeered at him.
Wesker looked at him, quite taken aback by the statement. Frost was clearly intoxicated, his face flushed and his words slightly slurred as he spoke. Wesker wasn’t sure where the man had gotten the idea that he could play, but he wasn't about to confirm it.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest idea of what you're talking about,” he replied, his voice cool and indifferent.
“Awww c’mon! Chris said you’d play something for us!”
“Did he now…” Wesker turned his attention onto Chris, whose face was now bright red with embarrassment.
“Dammit, Joe! You weren’t supposed to say that!” Chris swatted at the man’s arm before tentatively meeting Wesker’s gaze. “I umm… saw how happy you looked earlier when you played that piano so I might’ve said you would play us something…”
Wesker’s eyes narrowed in displeasure. There was a rather large difference between playing something for his own amusement in private company, and playing something for a room filled with people—only one of which he had any particular care for. He opened his mouth to say as much when he was interrupted.
“Wait—did you know the Captain could play piano before today?” Speyer asked Chris.
“Ummm… sort of? He has one in his apartment, so I guessed he could, but I hadn’t actually heard him play before…”
“You’ve been to the Captain’s apartment?” Valentine interjected.
“Well… um… yeah,” Chris stammered. “For work stuff!” he added, his face still a deep shade of red.
“Uh huh.” Valentine nodded without conviction.
“Yeah, huh. Jill.” Chris stared daggers at her, the red flush never leaving his face.
While they were arguing, Wesker walked over to the piano and took a seat—discarding his mostly full beer on a tabletop. His fingers swiftly moved across the keys as he began playing, the melodious sound of the piece interrupting his team’s bickering as they stopped to watch him play.
The room held itself in a perfect, blissful silence for a few short moments. That was, until Frost ruined the moment.
“BOOO! Play something Christmas-y!”
“GODDAMMIT JOE, SHUT UP!” Chris yelled at him, throwing an empty beer can at the man’s head.
Frost flinched as the can bounced off his head and turned to face Chris, the two looking like they were about to start a fight.
“Hey, guys! It’s snowing!” The tension broke as Aiken called out from where he was looking out the front window, and the whole team rushed over to see for themselves.
Wesker kept playing amidst the chaos, he had found his rhythm and was unwilling to let it go.
Chris broke away from the group and stood next to him, his face lit by the warm glow of the fire. “Sorry about that, Wesker. I didn’t mean for Joseph to call you out.”
“It’s quite alright, Chris,” he said, and was surprised to realize he meant it.
Chris smiled at him, all soft and warm, watching him play. He placed one hand on Wesker’s shoulder in comfort, rubbing a small circle into his flesh.
And it was enough, for now. His thoughts of the future could wait. He had Chris with him after all, right then and always.