Work Text:
Somewhere in the house, a resident was preparing themselves for the day. That somewhere being the bathroom and that resident being Wesker.
Wesker always got up 30 minutes before Chris. Never because it was required of him; simply because he could. Chris always struggled to awaken in the early hours of the morning so it's likely that Wesker would hear his second alarm sound out before he heard any signs of life from the bedroom.
And as if by some kind of precognition, Chris' second alarm sounded in the other room, a dramatic and groggy groan barely muffled by the plasterboard walls heard before the creak of the bed indicated Chris was starting to get out of bed.
In the bathroom, Wesker had just completed his skincare routine and brushing his teeth, now all he had to do was gel down his rebellious strands of hair that became disheveled from his glorious night sleep.
Just as Wesker had grabbed the gel from the side of the sink and was about to twist the lid of the plastic container open, the bathroom door beside him was now ajar, squeaking at its hinges. Between the gap of the door was Chris' face squished with his eyes shut, threatening to yank him back into another deep slumber. That was until Wesker bellowed Chris' name right into his face, causing him to jolt awake and meet Wesker's unamused (but secretly adoring) gaze, gripping onto the handle like a lifeline but quickly adjusting to his surroundings, his posture becoming slack again as he slid through the door, leaving it wide open.
Just at the very second Wesker was about to dip his hand into his hair gel, Chris abruptly flopped his brawny arms atop his shoulders, resting his chin upon his right arm. By the second, Chris was only becoming heavier, pressing Wesker down by a nanometre every time. It was only a matter of time before Chris' legs were going to be useless in supporting his whole frame and came toppling down on top of Wesker. Yeah, no thanks, he didn't fancy falling on this floor.
Wesker retreated his hand from hovering above the gel container and resorted to turning on the cold tap of the sink, cupping his hand beneath the stream and once there was a small amount of water pooled in his palm he threw his hand back into Chris' face, just to wake him up a bit.
“WAH! Cold!” Chris leaped back at the freezing shock. He was certainly awake now, shooting a scowl and a glare into the mirror in front of Wesker from the side like a grumpy cat that didn't receive its preferred portion of treats. Wesker was pretending to pay him no mind, continuing with what he wanted to like nothing happened, however that'd be more convincing if Wesker wasn't trying to smirk from the humour he got out of the act, not to mention the fact that his ignited irises happened to glow a tad bit brighter (something that only happened in response to intense emotion).
Just before Chris was about to dry his face on a nearby towel (Wesker's towel, just out of spite really), Wesker spoke up as he threw his head back to gel his front strands back.
“Cold water to the face, the best way to force production of adrenaline from the adrenal glands and increase overall awareness. In other words… the best way to wake yourself up in the morning,” at the end of his sentence he met Chris' eyes in the mirror, his eyelids squinting partially in a way that attempted restraining a laugh at Chris' pathetic face of defeat.
“Fuck you… Bert,” Chris grinned cunningly before burrowing his face in the towel to dry it, and also to avoid the consequences of his actions. Wesker hated being called ‘Bert’.
Behind Chris' back Wesker snapped around, burning eyes narrowing at the challenge before turning back around to fix the sides of his hair in place, trying not to entertain the tease too much, "That's Albert to you, Christopher. Bert is a name associated with scrawny little boys, not towards someone of my superiority and power.”
“Mhm, of course, how could I forget, Your Excellency,” just as Chris had uttered that, he'd already sneaked behind Wesker (Wesker saw him, he just wasn't bothered to intervene) and wrapped his arms around him once again, except this time atop his hips with his chin on Wesker's shoulder once again, his head butting Wesker's jaw.
They stood there for a second while Wesker finished gelling and combing the right side of his hair before Wesker lovingly patted Chris' stubbled cheek with his hand, “as much as I'm enjoying this moment of domestic comfort, Chris, you really must begin preparing for the day,” Chris grumbled in response, savouring the moment for just a second longer before slowly(on purpose) retracting himself from Wesker to stretch and then grab his toothbrush, Wesker scooching over so that they now shared the sink.
They took their time, they didn't need to rush exactly. Work could wait.
A comfortable silence fell over them through the duration of them both preparing for the day, save for Chris’ occasional humming and the light conversation they had over breakfast. They were allowed to have a slow morning every once in a while because after all, it was well deserved.