Work Text:
Beneath all of Chris’ bravado, there was a strong desire to please.
Most people wouldn’t look at Chris and think him the sort of person who wanted to spend hours on his knees, servicing another man. He was a hot-blooded youth, opinionated and resistant to authority, always the first to challenge orders he thought weren't in the best interests of the team. It was at least part of why he’d been head-hunted for S.T.A.R.S. The unit flourished with a team that was passionate and independent; they didn’t need bog-standard cops, who often lacked the initiative and independence needed to perform well in a specialised unit.
But beneath Chris’ hot-bloodedness lay a desperate need to please, for someone to be worthy of it. A feature that had required careful digging for Albert to uncover.
It wasn’t really that surprising: the boy had lost his primary authority figures - his parents - young, and had been forced to take over as the man of the house while barely qualifying as an adult. The years most boys spent drinking, partying, and letting loose had instead been devoted to raising his younger sister. He’d become an authority in his own right, a parent and an orphan far too soon, far too young. It had left him with a quiet, simmering desire for someone to let him yield, let him relinquish control, let his thoughts be narrowed, for a time, on the simple function of his body, his throat or ass - whatever he was in the mood to have used.
The first time he knelt for Albert, there had been such relief on his face when he took Albert's cock into his mouth. He’d sucked on it gently, eyes closed, looking so sweet and delicate despite the debauchery in what he was doing. Albert had granted him a metaphorical collar, and Chris had eagerly pushed its leash into his hand.
He’d quickly discovered Chris liked having his hair stroked, his skin flushing and eyelashes fluttering whenever Albert threaded his fingers into that short brown hair and petted the crown of his head. The little sounds of appreciation he made were delightful. Soft, breathy sighs, the occasional moan, and sometimes his face would burrow deeper into Albert’s lap and thread more of Albert’s cock into his throat. He could sit there for hours, warm and content under Albert’s desk, occasionally sliding his tongue around the circumference of Albert’s cock or shifting his cheek to the opposite thigh.
He seemed so much younger like this, all sweet and soft and eager to please. He’d clearly been waiting a long time for someone worthy of telling him to let go. Now that Albert had, he often had a human-shaped puddle under his desk, sucking up all the affection and warmth Albert was willing to extend him.
Whenever Albert needed to leave, Chris would always pull away with a whimper, reluctant to let him go, and Albert had learned that the best way to soothe him was with praise, “You did so well, Chris,” “You were perfect today, Chris,” “You deserve a break, Chris.” It never failed to make Chris flush from his neck to his ears. He was more willing to relinquish Albert once properly dismissed.
If he'd given Chris the option, he suspected Chris would have followed him home and planted himself under his other desk too. But he had too much sensitive information at his suite to allow it, at least for now. He had it in the back of his mind to use one of Umbrella's storage sheds to facilitate Chris' visits, though he knew it was ridiculous to put in the effort of transferring sensitive materials to a shed just so Chris could sit on his lap or suck his cock while he worked. Nonetheless, the temptation was there.
After weeks of this, Albert had to admit that he was feeling... a little fond of the boy; more than he’d anticipated when he’d begun using him for self-satisfaction. But whatever softness existed in him, Chris seemed single-handedly able to drag it out.
It was a liability. It was something he should have smothered the moment he identified it. He was risking his position and therefore Umbrella’s advantage by continually initiating these activities with Chris. And still, his resolve to stop, or at least limit his indulgence with Chris always fell to the wayside the moment Chris entered his office with that tense, tell-tale look on his face, the one that said he needed Albert’s comfort or he was going to start bursting at the seams.
So he let Chris climb into his lap or bury his face between his legs or simply prop his cheek up against Albert’s thigh to rest, both of them hopelessly entangled with each other. This strange relationship of theirs was something Albert would eventually have to give up, because he knew Chris would never align himself with Umbrella. But until then, he continued to indulge.