Title: Take It

Summary: One of Chris's favorite lines is used against him by his greatest of foes.

Pairing: Albert Wesker x Christopher Redfield

Warnings: Yaoi, graphic sex, swears, touch of violence etc.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A deep chuckle filled the air, prompting Chris's eyes to widen before he spun around, pointing his just to find nothing behind him. Letting out the breath he was holding, the brunette holstered his gun, grunting when he was suddenly kicked in the back. Head smacking against the rough slabs of rock that made up the ground, the brunette rolled onto his back as he pulled out his pistol once more, blue eyes narrowing at the sight of the black leather wearing man in front of him. "Wesker," he breathed before pulling the trigger. He could hear the ruffling of the heavy, black leather that the other man wore as he moved out of the way of the bullets, blue eyes barely making out the movement before the blonde man was standing behind him and hauling him up by the collar of his shirt.

"I expected better than that from you, Christopher," the tall blonde drawled, his voice sending a chill up the brunette's spine right before he slammed the younger man against one of the sarcophagi in the room, lips curling into a dangerous smirk as he pried the pistol out of the other's grip. "I have been watching you for a long time, Chris," the former Captain practically purred as he pressed his body against Chris's, keeping the younger man trapped against the rough stone. "Someone has been working out." He was being teased and he knew it. The inhuman man could have easily finished him off as soon as he spotted him, yet he was toying with him. ...Why? "And there is one thing that I have noticed that has stuck out more than others..."

"Yeah?" the brunette goaded, hoping to buy his time until Wesker's proclaimed seven minutes were up. "And what's that; hair is better without ungodly amounts of gel in it?"

"Amusing, but no," the blonde breathed as his fingers swiftly began to tug off the brunette's tactical vest, kneeing him between the legs when he started to struggle. "You see, Christopher-"

"Don't call me that!" the younger man hissed as he moved to roll onto his back, nearly kicking the blonde in the stomach as he did so. Using the position to his advantage, Wesker quickly settled himself between the younger man's thighs, making it extremely difficult for the brunette to manage to kick him. Smirking, the blonde leaned down as he continued to strip off Chris's shirt, leaving him bare-chested. Golden and crimson eyes roamed over the sun-kissed skin before a fist suddenly cracked against his cheek, sending his glasses flying and tumbling to the stone floor. Inhuman eyes narrowed before turning their focus directly to the brunette. The B.S.A.A. agent could have sworn that minutes were shaved off of his lifespan at the intense look he was given from the tyrant. Was it a stupid move? Sure. Would he do it all over again? Definitely.

Even though they were in a room lit only by small fires, the blonde found his eyes straining to focus in the bright lighting. His cat-like pupils contracted in an attempt to focus on much more than the blinding glare in front of him. Chris could not tell much; many things escaped him, but when it came to his former Captain he was a quick study. He remembered that look from back when they were both in S.T.A.R.S.; Captain Wesker usually got migraines from sitting at his desk for extended periods on time, typing away at his keyboard and working under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. He began to regret knocking the sunglasses off of the blonde's face when the blonde man narrowed his eyes.

Given the instability of the viruses that Umbrella had created, he was certain that it had something to do with Wesker's sensitivity to light. Even though he was his enemy, even though he tried to kill him and his sister, even though he destroyed many lives, even though he betrayed him, Chris could not stop the feeling that filled his stomach and chest. He could not just let the man suffer. It was one of the reasons that he fought against his superiors while in the military. If he could help someone, by God, he sure as hell was going to do all that he could!

"If you let me go," Chris reasoned. "I'll get your sunglasses for you; no fooling." A grunt was his reply from the blonde man before he was suddenly let go. The brunette momentarily thought about running, he could just flee, save Jill, and take Sheva out of there. As he looked back at the blonde man who leaned against the stone sarcophagi, he found himself unable to do so. While the majority of his body despised Wesker for what he had done and what he became, a part of him continued to admire the man and wanted to do whatever it took to make sure that he stayed the same man that he was when they started dating all those years ago. Bending down, he picked up the shades before walking over to his former Captain and putting them onto the blonde man. His mind flashed back to when they were younger, the blonde looking just as cocky wearing only a pair of sunglasses in the dark while lying on his sheets.

"You have my thanks, Chris," the tyrant breathed as he made sure his sunglasses were on straight, eyes refocusing under the dark lenses. The short nickname almost brought a smile to Chris's face; Wesker often called him that name when they were out of the office. "But this changes nothing."

"Yeah, yeah," the brunette muttered with the wave of his hand, hopes dashed that perhaps this time he could convince the underhandedly sneaky man to join his side.

"Back to what I was saying; you have a fondness for a certain line..." Moving closer, a smirk curled the blonde lips. "Take it." A blush spread out across Chris's face. He remembered that line; he said it often when unable to pick something up and he wanted Sheva to grab the item. It the current context though... It sounded dirty. "Tell me Christopher, what did you mean whenever you told that woman to take it? Are you fucking her?" It was rare when the great Albert Wesker cursed, but it sounded sinfully delicious when he did. Anything lewd that the former Captain of S.T.A.R.S. did positively made his blood boil.

"Of course not!" Chris defended, trying to keep himself from blushing. The smirk on Wesker's face grew as a hand lashed out. The brunette had prepared himself to be struck and grunted when his cock was caught in a strong grip, fingers massaging his hardening cock.

"Would you like to see how much you can take?" the blonde teased before dipping down and crashing their lips together, his other hand quickly working on the brunette's belt. He could tell that the younger man was melting in his grasp when he started to kiss back, hands threading through his blond hair while he tugged down the heavy material of Chris's pants. Spinning them around, Wesker pressed the shorter man against the wall before beginning to unfasten his own pants. "This will hurt," he muttered against the brunette's lips.

"Oh, and a punch to the ribs doesn't?" the younger man replied with a soft snort. After all these years, Chris still had yet to show any respect. Humming, the blonde man pulled his cock free before lifting the brunette up by his thighs and lowering him onto his cock. A pained grunt met his ears as he felt the tight heat engulf his cock. It appeared as though the other man had not taken anything besides his fingers since their last rendezvous. He would have to be rewarded for his loyalty...

Slamming their lips together even as blood ran down Wesker's cock and thighs, the tyrant eagerly began to pound into the younger man's body, reveling in the breathy moans that came from his mouth. Blue eyes fluttered when his prostate was hit, dry walls clamping down around the other's cock, making him growl and pump his hips faster. Hot pleasure filled Chris's mind as he tried to focus on more than the cock that was buried deep inside of his body. Wesker's hair was mussed and the brunette could not help but feel pleased that he had been the one to do it. Gripping the blonde locks together, he slammed their lips together in a brutal kiss while squirming against the rock wall.

Every pump of Wesker's hips made Chris writhe in pleasure, certain that his skin would be rubbed raw. But it was completely worth it when his orgasm tore through his body. Liquid heat filled his body as he screamed his own completion. Focusing on breathing, the brunette opened his eyes to see his own reflection staring back at him in his former Captain's glasses.

"Until next time, Chris," the tyrant breathed before kissing him softly. It was in that moment that Chris found solace. He knew that he could take whatever Wesker had to dish out and he found that he could hardly wait until their next meeting.

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