This was a challenge from Kitsune, after I mentioned I wanted to write slash at least once but didn't have the motivation for it. Of course, now this challenge is done, I get to issue her one…hmmm.
Thankies to Rosetrife (DA) to Beta-ing this for me X3 Luff ya!
Contains Graphic Guy on Guy - ness. If you don't like, go away and don't bother commenting or reviewing. I don't have time for flamers.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ ON AT OWN RISK. I AM NOT TO BLAME FOR NOSEBLEEDS THAT MAY FOLLOW!!
He gives a sigh as the cool water laps at his tired body, sinking into the pool of freshwater. He walks forwards as the weeds at the bottom fall away, leaving him kicking slowly to stay afloat.
Somehow he finds the ice cold forest lake a lot more relaxing than a hot shower with Jill.
One year after the Siberia facility was taken down; the group had agreed…they needed a break. Otherwise, they'd go insane. Barry sorely missed his family, and they missed him. Rebecca wanted to hunt down an old friend of hers, Billy something or other, Chris hadn't been paying attention. Claire wanted to return to college and get her education finished. Carlos didn't want a break, but he needed one. So they each went their separate ways, agreeing to meet back in a year's time in the place where Raccoon once stood.
Chris and Jill, on the other hand, stuck together. The marksman had bought a small log cabin in Canada, just for the two of them, and Jill loved it. The scenery was beautiful; it was calm, serene, with pine trees surrounding the cabin, and this wonderful lake a little trek away.
As the marksman relaxes into the water, a smile spreads across his face and he closes his eyes, leaning to lie on his back, drifting slightly as he stares up into the dark night sky, watching the stars twinkle so far away. The moon's hidden behind a cloud, though he can still see its white light shining down though it.
It's a perfect night for a swim.
Amazingly the marksman wasn't the only one to think so.
Of course, his is an entirely different reason to go swimming.
Would the brunette remember from past experiences, or would he have the same attitude he always had when face to face with his old captain?
There are four ways this could end…two involve death, one involves walking away and the other is what I came here for tonight…and I will not leave until I have what is mine.
Something touched my ankle… Chris sinks under the water as something brushes past him, only just managing to get upright and take a gulp of air. Oh god, I hope that was just a fish, a really, really small fish…
But he knows it's something far worse when it grabs his leg and hauls him under the water. He struggles against its tight grip, kicking fruitlessly at whatever it is. He doesn't want to look down, to see what it is, hoping to god Umbrella or HCF haven't found them and done something to the water, to the fish and now that's what's got him.
He can't help it, he looks down, and fights to hold onto the small breath of air he has left as he sees the beast that has him.
No, no god no!
The orange and gold eyes glitter up at him, even through the water, an alabaster hand wrapped around his ankle.
Then as suddenly as the beast had him, it lets him go, swimming a back flip over itself, laughing as the marksman kicks towards the surface, breaking the rippled surface and gasping for breath, at the same time kicking for the shore.
Gun. Gun, gotta find my gun, I don't have it, knife, fuck, where, cabin, fuck, screwed.
The water ripples in front of him and he freezes as wet blonde hair rises out of the water, followed by those accursed gold and orange eyes. The beast wears a smirk, and watches at Chris stares at him, blue eyes full of fear.
The BOW knows Chris is unarmed and completely defenceless, not even a scrap of clothing to protect him, he himself is too, though he doubts Chris notices it through his fear.
He swims forward a stroke.
"Christopher…" he speaks quietly, but the word carries over the mostly still water.
"What do you want, Wesker?" Chris's voice is raspy with the water he's swallowed, and with the panic rising in his chest.
Another stroke forwards from the blonde. "What do I want?" he murmurs. "What could I possibly want from you?" Stroke.
He's closer than Chris likes, yet there's something oddly familiar about the whole thing -
- The RPD pool, oh god, he's not…surely he doesn't want that… after all this time? After everything he put me through…
He kicks away from Wesker, keeping his eyes on the BOW. Wesker watches him, not following, just…waiting.
What's he waiting for? OW!
His back collides with something solid and rough. It's a giant rock; the one Jill normally sunbathes on. Its rough face rubs against his back as he twists to see what it is. Damn rock.
He turns round again, gasping as he sees Wesker's face only millimetres from his, the BOW's body pressing close, hands on either side of his body, gripping the rock.
"Hmm, this seems…familiar." Wesker smirks, lifting a pale hand to touch Chris's face.
"Stop it!" Chris grabs the wrist, halting the hand just in front of him. "You had your chance, a long time ago…Why are you here?" he demands.
"I'd think it would be obvious, Redfield." The blonde murmurs, pressingly closer, pinning his once-subordinate to the rough rock with his toned body.
"You can't be serious!"
However, from the hard length pressing against his thigh, he can tell that the BOW is deadly serious. He can't stop the other from surging forwards and pressing a rough kiss to his lips, can't stop himself from leaning into it, can't stop himself from reacting to the addiction, to the drug that is Albert Wesker. His arms wrap around Wesker's neck, pulling him closer if it was possible.
When they break, Chris glares angrily at the blonde, hating him for making it so easy to give in.
"…I'm supposed to kill you."
"I know." A tiny smirk.
"…I will kill you."
"I doubt it." A smile instead.
"I hate you."
"I don't think so."
Chris lets go of Wesker's wrist, allowing the BOW to reach forwards and touch his face. He leans into it, closing his eyes.
"This is the last time…"
"Of course." Wesker smirks, knowing it won't be. He'll say it anyway, because he didn't come here to argue. Another kiss easily quietens the pinned human, letting the BOW ease between his legs.
The hand slips down to the tanned throat, feeling the pulse pounding a million miles a moment beneath the skin. It slips further down, feeling the well toned muscle, grazing a stiff nipple on its journey, and his mouth curls as Chris lets out a delightful little sound. The pale appendage continues its downward journey, through the chilling water, then pauses just above the marksman's groin.
Chris grunts in frustration, and Wesker darts forwards, lips crashing together, bodies pressing close in the cooling water, fire spreading from the touching skin outwards in ripples, growing stronger as Wesker's hand descends those final few inches, wrapping around the girth between Chris's legs. The brunette opens his mouth in a moan, muffled as the blonde's tongue slips inside, caressing the muscle there. Chris groans and submits, eyelids falling shut, his hands clawing down Wesker's back, gaining a hiss from the BOW.
The blonde breaks from the kiss, a trail of salvia connecting them still, their breath mingling in the night's chill air, before trailing his lips along the other's cheek, stopping to nibble at Chris's lobe and smirking at the sigh it causes. He lifts his hand from the marksman's member and slips it under his thigh instead, lifting him a few inches, and pressing forwards.
A much better angle now, Chris notes, as he feels something brush against his entrance, breath hitching as it, combining with Wesker's talented lips, sends a thrill up and down his spine. And then a chill, for a different reason.
"Wesker wait-" he gasps in realisation, but it ends in a sharp cry, head flung back as Wesker drives himself in to the hilt, salty tears pricking at the edges of his eyes but the lids close before they can escape. His chest heaves as he draws deep breaths, trying to relax, willing the pain away. Opening his eyes, he sees the triumphant smirk on Wesker's face.
"You bastard." he hisses, fingers turning white as they grip the grey rock behind him, gasping as the blonde bites down on his shoulder, pulling him closer.
"Your so complimentary tonight, Chris." He gently kisses the indented skin; not missing the shiver it sends through the younger's body, nor missing the tightening of the muscles around him, grunting in pleasure. "I forgot how…good you were."
"Absence…makes the heart grow…fonder." Chris gives a low moan when the BOW inside him withdraws, thrusting back in so slowly it almost kills him, creating small ripples that spread out, expanding, both of cold water, and of burning pleasure inside him.
"Funny, my cock could say the same thing." Wesker's hand remakes its earlier journey southwards, down through the cooling water, and the graceful fingers once again wrap themselves around Chris's erection, squeezing gently, brushing the water-abused tip with a thumb, the heat of his hand making the man pressed against the icy rock cry out, thrusting his hips forwards, pleading for more. Only too happy to give more, the blonde presses closer, whispering into the marksman's ear. Complying, Chris lifted his legs, locking them around the BOW's toned body, uttering a moan as he's able to slip closer, further into that delicious heat, that tight warm cavern that seeks to pull him further from his sanity, regretfully pulling away.
Chris murmurs something and Wesker smirks. "Come again?"
"I said, 'Fuck me'."
"With great pleasure." And he does, capturing the other's lips in a heated kiss, slipping his tongue inside in much the same manner as his member, filling Chris's passage once more, hips pressing close for a tantalising second before the slow, torturous pace is increased, the water acting as a delicious cooling lubricant for their heated act, the shocking contrast of blistering heat to burning cold only intensifies Wesker's already heightened pleasure.
Already he can hear Chris begging for more, yet the marksman has not uttered a word, lips covered by his own. He break for a second and listens to breathy moans, then realises that it's not just Chris, its him making those sounds of intense pleasure. He grabs Chris's hips and picks up the pace, changing the angle of his thrusting slightly, and knows he's made the right adjustment when Chris's walls tighten around him and a wordless gasp escapes him, hands clenching on the rock.
The marksman's legs pull him closer, and his hands change position again, one still on the tanned hip, the other gripping the weeping length between their bodies, pumping it in time to his own thrusts, a dark smirk coming to his face as the pinned human cries out, breaking from the kiss, a thrill rushing through his body as his name is chanted over and over, as if it will save the brunette from the inevitable.
The pressure builds in both participants, and Wesker doesn't realise that Chris is not the only one being vocal, his own sounds mixing with Chris's.
Then suddenly, light fills Chris sight, black spots at the edge of his vision, mouth opening in a silent scream as white fluid erupts from his member, rising to float to the surface, the blonde gives a few final thrusts into the crushing cavern, jettisoning his own load with a strangled growl, the rippling waters bouncing the noise into the surrounding trees.
Slowly, their chests frantic heaving calms, and blue eyes meet with gold, a reluctance visible in both. Neither one wants to move away from the other source of heat in the ice cold lake, but they must, for fear of what is could mean. Wesker pulls himself free slowly, releasing Chris's limp member, keeping one hand on the other's hip for a few seconds longer, but the BOW must take his leave…
He leans forwards in the water and whispers in Chris's ear, giving the lobe a tug with his teeth. Then, he sinks below the surface and Chris can only watch as his enemy's pale form speeds away, under the surface of the lake.
A shiver runs through his body, the cold water bringing his attention back to him. Time to go home.
Jill's eyes open as Chris's side of the mattress sinks down, her lover returning from his late night swimming. "Hey handsome." she murmurs, a hand reaching out to touch his face. He takes it kissing the palm softly. "Enjoy your swimming?" In the dark, she can't see the flush that rises over his cheeks, and he's glad for it.
"Until next time, Chris…I can only hope Jill can satisfy you half as much as I can until then…"