Got a request the other day and whilst I work on some things here and get other chapters lined up for other fics, I give thee, Mine. A quick present for Fangirl04

Piers Nivans belonged to Chris Redfield. His scent, his essence. The way he could ruin a man with a single look into those hazel orbs filled with conviction and surety. His skin, tan and war hardened, with muscles that flexed and tightened under the scrutiny of long hours spent training. Those fingers, deft and perfect, squeezing the trigger of his rifle at just the right moment, the tough pads hidden beneath gunner's gloves. How long his legs were and well defined. His speed, dexterity, intelligence. His attention and bravado belonged to Chris. All of him was dedicated to Chris Redfield in a way no other person could ever understand. Even his affection belonged to Chris, every little acknowledgement that pulled a smile to his lips. Those lips... those lips were his too. He claimed every inch of them, and what was hidden between them, the warmth of his mouth. Those were his, no one had a right to them but Chris and no one was allowed to lay hands on his body, the lithe body that danced under his eyes and shifted under the pressure of his demands. No this man was his. Every member of their team knew it, so why the hell didn't he seem to know that?

Fuck he was jealous. His fingers were on fire, feeling the way the the vodka surged heat through him until his blood was literally boiling from the display before him. He wanted so badly to bury his knife into that guy's chest. For the last half hour or so this complete stranger's hands had taken leave of his senses and had begun finding places 'reassuringly' on his partner's back while they drank together, his wide palm drifting from shoulder to spine, and then to his middle back, where his fingers continued to graze the bunched fabric of his the shirt that covered him at the small of his back. It didn't seem to bother Piers, but hell if it wasn't bothering Chris. Those features flush from excitement, from returning home safe and sound with every man, from the fifth shot he was just putting back and laughing over. Piers was naturally stoic, naturally unamused , and naturally beautiful..., and so naturally drunk.

Piers was sexy drunk though. There was blush creeping over his cheeks and laughter in his eyes, his lips had curled up in an almost smile, the unguarded one that only Chris was allowed to see, that no one here should be able to witness. He was almost completely at ease from his usual guarded persona and had lounged happily amongst the others, tossing his head back with a laugh every time Andy would start fumbling with his phone drunk texting his girlfriend about how he was going to be home after just one more round. There was no slur to his words, but unbridled pleasure seemed to come to him so easily once he had taken the first shot that stopping him would have seemed wrong. He wanted to see this, to see him relaxed and so pleased with himself. He just hadn't wanted anyone else to see it. Certainly not the whore who was continually trying to get her hands on his skin beneath his clothes.

He knew Piers, how much he enjoyed physical attention and craved it like a drug. He'd never hidden anything about what sort of man he was, or what it was he wanted. He worked hard, and he liked to play hard. He couldn't stop Piers from wanting to enjoy himself, he wanted Piers to enjoy himself. To enjoy every inch of Chris' body until he was on fire and they melted into one another, until there was no seam between the two. Chris took long drag off his cigarette, holding it in his lungs before flicking the cigarette hurtling into the ash tray, gritting his teeth as they continued to dabble in each other's presence.

No, no, they weren't allowed to see this. Piers Nivans' lusty smiles belonged to no one else but Chris. Growling he came to join them, noting how the woman had ducked a thumb under the edge of his partner's cargo pants that hugged his hips so loosely. Ugh, couldn't he see what it did tohis captain, just seeing other people touching him? How close they were that their bodies were flush together while she giggled about anything and everything, feeding him shots like candy. He knew Piers was young, that he probably felt more at home with a twenty year old girl in his arms but this was wrong. He hadn't done anything with him, to him, no matter if he wanted to, but that didn't mean that it wasn't obvious that he had wanted to, that they had spent so much time together that it was almost given how Chris felt about him. Just because they hadn't done anything didn't mean the man shouldn't realize that he was owned. Chris did not share.

She smiled against her hand, looking up at the tawny haired ace while his team mates talked, fingering the front of his shirt and feeling the well defined muscles that lined beneath it before leaning up and catching his lips unexpectedly. His lips meshed with her's easily, setting aside his drink and smiling against her mouth, fingers trapping her waist against his like a vice as he rocked his hips into her. Chris growled deep in his chest, a caged animal unleashed as he watched his hands snaking around her, tasting her lips. There was a silence among them, the men of their squad watching what could only be described as horror etch over the girl's face as Chris tore them apart.

"Come here damn it!" Chris cut him off, pulling Piers clean out of the woman's arms like a ragdoll and clutching his arm at the bicep, fingers digging into his arm even through the fabric, fighting off the urge to haul off and slug the other man who began protesting immediately. "Stop wiggling like that or I'll hit you Piers, you're fine." Honestly he had to say something, the moment Chris grabbed hold of him, the younger man was instantly falling into him, the momentum of pulling him away causing him to lose balance and catch himself on Chris' chest, nuzzling his face into his neck as he leaned there, struggling to regain his balance. The moment he realized it was Chris who had grabbed him he smiled, humming as though nothing had happened. Everything he did was infuriating and arousing, his warm mouth breathing heat over the collar of his neck that peeked out from behind his ill fitting jacket. Until older, more experienced hands pulled him free, leading him toward the door, unceremoniously without a regard to his men. "I'm getting you out of here, you have any idea what the hell you are doing Nivans?"

"Haha, yeaaah, its called kissing captain, feels good every so often, you should try it."

"I know what kissing is Nivans, I've done my fair share of it."

Piers almost giggled as Chris yanked him, slipping a coat onto him while he hailed a cab. "I doubt it! Come on, when's the last time you kissed someone?' The man in his arms so was warm, his skin was burning against the wind and he was pushing himself into Chris' arms, tangling a hand up into Chris' hair and looking up at him with those hazel eyes. It was like he was on fire and needed Chris there to share the burning in his body before he exploded. A growl emit as Chris greeted his gaze, feeling how Piers was shifting in his arms, the fingers in his hair tugging insistent, as he pulled himself against the larger frame, his evident arousal rubbing against Chris' muscled thigh. Fuck! Did he understand what he was doing to Chris? Those were his lips she'd kissed. They belonged to him. How dare he let her do that, touch him and feel those contours of his frame make his skin dance.

"Taxi's here..."

Chris snarled, tearing away from Piers and throwing the yellow car door open and just about tossing him inside, following suit and tossing some money up front. "Just get us there quickly." There was a chuckle from beside him, a hand snaking up to push Chris back from his sitting forward position to talk to the driver about where they needed to go. He needed to get him home now.

"In a hurry captain?"

Chris was shoving Piers' out the door before the cab even stopped, grasping him by the front of his shirt and cramming the key in its place, unlocking it. He didn't bother with lights or anything else, just yanked him like a puppy on a leash through the house fumbling until he found his bedroom, throwing back the door. There were quiet protests and whines from the other man, off balance and stumbling through the house while he was forced about until Chris sent him reeling onto the bed, his voice almost coming out as a roar. "You fuck! You realize you belong to me right? I own you Piers. I don't think you get it. People are not allowed to touch this body," The booze was talking he was sure of it, but he didn't care as he was threw parts of his clothing off, tearing the seams of things as Piers blinked his eyes against the darkness. "People can't kiss these lips Piers" a hand shot out grabbing him by the jaw, a toughened thumb dragging across pillowy lips," they are mine!" Chris growled deep in his throat, crushing his lips against Piers, instantly enveloped in the warmth and softness.

"Yours captain?" Piers gasped between kisses, feeling Chris pulling away the jacket around his shoulders, thoughtlessly throwing it aside as he began to help him. Hands working at his own shirt, peeling it over his body to expose his chest. Immediately Chris' mouth was attached to him, teeth grazing and biting, bringing gasps and moans strung along in a tenor voice, falling back against the mattress. Rough, aggressive hands were rubbing wonderful friction against the fabric still covering his lower half, causing eyes to roll back and close, relishing in the way Chris was doting on his torso with lips sucking and leaving red marks along his collar.

"Mine, soldier. And I'm going to fucking claim you. Turn over."