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“Captain. Please,” Chris begged, desperately clasping his hands together as if in prayer.
Wesker sighed as he put aside the documents he had just been reading, now focusing on the pathetic man in front of him.
“I told you, Chris. I simply have too many things to get done tomorrow,” Wesker huffed as he moved his hands to massage his temple, as if the conversation was enough to give him a migraine, “Surely there is someone else able to humour you.”
Chris wildly gesticulated as he began listing off the reasons each S.T.A.R.S. member had given for rejecting him: “Jill is still recovering from that cold, Forest is going drinking with some of his friends, Barry is spending the day with Moira for her birthday, Joseph and Edward have tickets for a drag race, Richard has a date with Bridgette, Rebecca is going to play basketball, Enrico is going golfing, Kenneth is helping his neighbour landscape, and Brad is still scared of boats. Please, Captain!!! You’re my only hope!”
Wesker merely shook his head as Chris stared at him intensely. The other man groaned as he slumped his posture, seemingly giving up. As Wesker prepared to return his attention to the files on his desk once more, he noticed the cogs turning in his pointman’s head.
Chris brought up his hand to inquisitively tap his finger on his chin. “That schoolmate of yours… William…” Chris smiled, “Why don’t you invite him for me?”
For a split second, Wesker’s eyes widened in mild surprise—he hadn’t expected Chris to remember some colleague he mentioned offhand in a forgettable conversation.
“He’s not exactly… the sociable type, Chris,” Wesker shuddered as he recalled the awkward situations William managed to create whenever he opened his mouth during conversation.
Unexpectedly, Chris’ grin only widened as he chuckled, “You don’t have to worry about that. If he’s your friend, I’m sure he’s a nice guy.”
A light shake of his shoulder ripped William from the intense focus he had been in. Mouth curling into a frown, he moved to glare at whoever interrupted his work. Turning his head, he was met with Wesker’s ever-impassive gaze on him. Great.
“Wesker,” he greeted as he swiveled his chair to face the other, “Whatever do you need?”
After an unusually long pause, the other finally relents, “My pointman wants to inquire as to if you’d like to go fishing with him tomorrow.”
William’s glare dissipated into befuddlement. He blinked. Wesker blinked. William glanced around the room, as if looking to spot a hidden camera.
“Why me??” William asked as he began to fiddle with his hands.
Wesker let out an exasperated sigh. “Nobody in our department is free—evidently the act of fishing requires a partner. He remembered me mentioning you once and requested I extend you an invite.”
“Okay.”
“You’re actually going?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Wesker furrowed his brow as he analysed his old friend. His face had a slight flush, the movement of his hands seemed to increase in speed, and he appeared to have slightly curled in on himself. Wesker allowed himself a knowing smirk.
“Alright then. 5 p.m. at the lake. Do try not to be late, Birkin.”
William scoffed as Wesker finally turned and left his laboratory.
Chris anxiously organised the bait he had prepared while waiting for William to arrive. Looking back, it probably would’ve been beneficial to ask Wesker what the man looked like… Glancing down at his watch, he noticed it was just about 5 p.m. He chewed his lip, rationalising that he was just fashionably late.
Before he could further delve into his worried thoughts, he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Turning around, he noticed a pale, average-height man awkwardly hovering near him with his arms glued to his sides.
The other smoothed down his slightly-mussed hair before speaking, “Hello… Are you Chris?”
Not giving him time to doubt his assessment, Chris gave him a smile as he stood up and offered his hand. The other gave it a firm shake.
“So nice to meet you!” Chris exclaimed, “You ever fished before, William?”
William slowly shook his head no. From the man’s shifting of his weight from foot to foot and refusal to make eye contact, Chris deduced he was probably nervous. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s intimidating or if it’s because the prospect of fishing is nervewracking to him. Maybe a bit of both.
Softening his gaze a little, Chris wrapped an arm around the other’s shoulder. “No need to worry, Will! I’ll show you the ropes.”
He felt the other man tense a little, yet he made no move to separate himself from Chris. From the corner of Chris’ eye, he saw William smooth his hair down again.
Guiding William over to his equipment, he explained the types of bait and handed him a fishing rod. With that, he finished loading the boat and helped William step inside. Starting the motor, Chris moved them to his favourite spot on the lake and cast his rod. William, with the grace of a newborn chick, followed Chris’ lead and cast his rod as far as he could manage—which really wasn’t that far at all.
Aside from the hum of the boat’s motor, the chirping of the birds, and the calm movement of the water below, Chris and William found themselves engulfed in a silence. While he typically worked his best in the quiet, Chris seemed like the louder type of guy… He briefly mulled over whether or not he should attempt to begin some sort of conversation. In an attempt to gauge how the other was feeling, William turned his head to glance at Chris—only to find the other already looking at him. Huh. His immediate reaction was to furrow his brow; surely Chris was judging him, possibly for his inability to begin any sort of chat or dialogue. Typically, William couldn’t care less about what the less intelligent thought of him, however right now Chris’ open judgement brought him a great feeling of offense. In his own mind, he rationalised this feeling as annoyance at the audacity to inspect him in such an uncivil manner, yet he found himself unconvinced of his own justification.
“Did I do something?” William challenged, sticking up his nose in an attempt to intimidate the larger man.
Chris let out a wince at the unwarranted harshness in his tone, turning back to face the water. “No… I was just thinking of things to talk about, you know? Why don’t we learn a little bit more about each other?”
For a few moments, William continued staring at Chris’ back. They were really thinking the same thing. His frown deepened at the realisation that he perhaps had overreacted, like usual. He briefly debated apologising, but the thought of admitting to his own irrational thoughts practically made him sick to his stomach. Instead of offering any vulnerability, he turned away from Chris and watched his hands as he roughly wrung them in a poor attempt to dissipate his discomfort.
“Okay,” William conceded, “Other than fishing, what do you like to do?”
“I play guitar. Oh, and I like rock climbing. I spend a lot of time at the gym training, since I’m a member of S.T.A.R.S., which is—”
“I know what S.T.A.R.S. is.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Wesker talks about his ’brilliant pointman’ a lot.”
The boat let out a loud creak as Chris whipped around to face him once more. He could hear the other shuffle slightly closer before he felt him shake his shoulder in some odd display of excitement. At the rough treatment, William grimaced and turned to look at Chris. Logistically speaking, William should be disgusted right now. He’s a genius. He’s known Wesker for longer. Yet he’s been delegated to a mere mention. Chris, on the other hand, seems to get all of Wesker’s precious attention. Chris this, Chris that. Sure, Chris was attractive or whatever, but the man obviously had rocks for brains. Rather than scoff at Chris and make some sort of low jab or lie to harm the other’s ego, he surprised himself; once he saw the overjoyed look on the other’s face, he couldn’t help but relax as he felt the jealousy fizzle out into a warmer type of feeling. Outside of his own control, he felt the corners of his lips twitch to form into a small, fond smile. Noticing William’s improved mood, Chris feels his grin widen further. At this point, he’s not even paying attention to his line. All of his attention is on William.
“What about you? What do you like to do, Will? Wesker told me that you’re a virologist. Sounds real smart” Chris remarked, pretending to briefly return his focus to the bait that no fish seems keen on taking.
“I like viruses a lot.”
“Yeah, but I mean what are your other hobbies? Surely you don’t just work?”
William let out a hum in consideration and allowed his already poor posture to slump even further. Hobbies… hobbies… Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time he even left the lab before today. Does he seriously do nothing but work? Shit… that’s so lame…
Chris watched closely as William became deep in thought. As much as he found his focused face endearing, it really shouldn’t take anybody this long to name one of their own hobbies. Before Chris could express his concern, William felt a harsh tug on his hook that jolted him forward. He scrambled to reel the fish in, its aggressive pulls continued forcing him further and further out of the boat. It was appearing as if his terrible diet and lack of any exercise was going to be the death of him. He was going to fall out of the boat and die because he couldn’t reel in a fucking fish.
In the midst of his panic, he heard Chris swear and thrust himself closer. Wrapping an arm around William’s midriff, Chris yanked the other back into the boat, using his free hand to help reel in that stupid fish who was still struggling against the pull of the line. After a few more seconds of reeling, Chris—to William’s disappointment—released his grip on the other man’s torso to grab their bounty.
“Will, grab the camera out of my pocket and snap a picture of this!” he proudly smiled as he kept the struggling fish secure in his grasp.
Quickly, William reached for the camera and, to the best of his ability, ignored the fact that his hand was inches away from Chris’ ass because he is NOT a pervert. With trembling hands, still shaken from one of his “what if I die” scenarios almost coming to fruition, William took the photo of Chris with his ridiculously huge fish. His face, if anybody asks, did not heat up from seeing Chris so elated. After he heard the click, Chris released it back into the water.
Chris, seeing William’s tremor and dilated pupils, was very quickly away from his happiness and back to the fact that William seriously almost fell into the lake. In an attempt at reassurance, Chris pulled William in for a tight hug.
“You had me panicking for a second there, Will!” Chris exclaimed.
William awkwardly moved his hands to Chris’ back as he embarrassedly muttered, “Sorry.”
For a moment, William believes that Chris forgot his earlier question and lets out a quiet sigh of relief. At least, that is until Chris opens his big mouth again.
As if God was punishing William for celebrating his victory too early, Chris slightly pulls away from the embrace to look William in the eyes, “Is there really nothing you like to do outside of work, Will?”
William cringed at the sad, pitying look in Chris’ eyes. On any other occasion, he would sneer and insist that work was the most important and worthwhile thing a genius like him could do. Somehow, though, he found himself caring a little too much about Chris’ opinion of him. For a moment, he debated simply lying to get the other man off his back. In yet another revelation about Chris that he did not feel like unpacking, William realised that the mere contemplation of being untruthful with the man filled him with an odd sense of guilt. He focused his gaze at Chris’ glabella and firmly shook his head.
“Really?” Chris gasped as he lightly rattled William.
While he found himself quite satisfied with Chris’ current undivided attention on him, the possibility of Chris interrogating him for details made his frown deepen. Chris hummed, clearly thinking as he watched the man’s reaction.
The troubled look Chris wore morphed into a friendly smile as he moved his hands up to grasp at William’s cheeks, “Well then, Will, I guess we’ll have to start hanging out a lot more often… y’know, to find some hobbies for you.”
He beamed as he watched William give him an earnest, crooked smile in turn.