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It started by accident, really. Just something small and innocent that snowballed without either of them meaning for it to. Wesker had only meant to buy Chris dinner. Nothing more than that.
Chris had stayed late again to fix up a report that was due first thing in the morning. He was the only other person left in the office besides Wesker himself. Wesker knew exactly how this would go if he tried to order something without him. Chris would start complaining under his breath, or worse, he would get that look on his face and start to pout like a kid who got told no dessert. Wesker did not have the patience for any of that tonight.
So he picked up the phone and called the little bistro a few blocks away that still delivered this late. He did not bother asking Chris what he wanted. The man had focus issues bad enough as it was. If Wesker interrupted him right now it would add at least another hour before the report got done. Better to just handle it.
Wesker ordered a bit of everything. He had more than enough money sitting around between his STARS pay and the very generous Umbrella salary. Most of it just collected dust in his account anyway. The only things he really bought were sunglasses when his current pair got scuffed and silk pillowcases because maintaining his hairstyle was a full-time commitment.
When the food finally arrived and Wesker had it all laid out across his desk, Chris’s reaction was almost comical. His eyes went huge, like someone had just told him Christmas came early. Wesker already knew the man ate like a horse. You could not miss it with all those empty barbecue Lay’s bags he left scattered around the damn office like some kind of trail.
“Sit,” Wesker said, nodding toward the chair on the other side of his desk.
Chris blinked at him a couple times before he actually moved. “Captain, is this all for me?”
He looked young and kind of dumb in that moment. Like an eager puppy or something. Wesker narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses while he thought about it. No. More like a mutt. A big, enthusiastic mutt that knocked things over with his tail half the time.
Wesker did not answer him out loud. It was pretty obvious the food was for Chris. Most of it was finger foods since that was basically all the bistro had left at this hour that was not pizza. Wesker refused to deal with the greasy mess that came from the parlor down the street.
Chris dropped into the chair and immediately started digging in. He ate like he had not seen food in days. Wesker sat there across from him and kept reviewing the revisions on the report, almost like the whole scene was not happening right in front of him.
After a few minutes Chris started looking a little sheepish. He wiped his hands on his pants and pulled out his wallet like he was about to give Wesker something.
Wesker raised an eyebrow. “Christopher.”
Chris ignored the warning tone and kept going. “Here, let me pay you back for some of—”
“Christopher, if I see you pull anything out of that wallet I will throw it back at you.”
Chris froze for a second. He had never had someone basically threaten him into accepting free food before. It was… kinda hot? Scratch that. Super hot. There was something about the way Wesker said it, all calm and in control, that hit Chris right in the chest. Like a dominance thing or something. He slowly set his wallet down on the edge of the desk.
“You bought me like two hundred dollars worth of fo—”
Wesker cut him off. He rarely did that with anyone, but Chris had a special talent for pushing it. “Christopher.”
Chris could practically feel the glare burning through those sunglasses. “I’m serious, Captain. I have to pay you back.”
Wesker’s expression did not change. He looked annoyed now. “Fine. You want to pay me back. Knees.”
He pointed down with one elegant finger, right beside his chair.
Chris knew exactly what he was implying. Part of him wanted to argue because this was not really paying Wesker back. Chris actually loved giving head. Especially for Wesker. It was like a weird military trick he had picked up over the years. Got him out of plenty of situations.
But Wesker was not in the mood to rush anything tonight.
“Sit still,” he said when Chris shifted forward too eagerly.
Chris hated that command. He was always moving without realizing it, always antsy, his attention jumping around like it had somewhere better to be. Sitting still felt impossible most days.
Wesker picked up one of the mini croissants from the spread and brought it to Chris’s lips. He pressed it there gently but firmly until Chris opened his mouth and took a bite. The buttery pastry practically melted on his tongue. Wesker watched him the whole time, that small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth like Chris was enjoying this way more than him.
Chris chewed slowly, eyes locked on Wesker’s face even though he could not see the man’s eyes behind the glasses. The office felt smaller all of a sudden. Quieter. Just the quiet sound of Chris eating and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.
Wesker fed him another bite, then another, taking his time. Every so often he would brush a crumb from Chris’s lower lip with his thumb. It should have felt ridiculous, but it did not. It felt tense, in a good way. Like the air between them had shifted and was about to snap
“You eat like you have not seen food in a week,” Wesker muttered, voice low.
Chris swallowed and grinned up at him, that same dumb, happy look still on his face. “Maybe I haven’t. You ever try the stuff they serve here?”
Wesker made a small disgusted sound. “I have made it a point not to.”
Chris laughed under his breath and shifted again on his knees. He was getting impatient now, the way he always did when something was right in front of him but he had to wait. Wesker noticed, of course. Chris had a waiting problem, this wasn’t new.
“Patience, Christopher.” Wesker picked up another piece of food, this time something with a little sauce on it, and held it just out of reach for a second. “You will get what you want when I decide you have earned it.”
Chris felt that familiar heat crawl up the back of his neck. He stayed on his knees though, exactly where Wesker wanted him, mouth slightly open and waiting.
Chris was still on his knees, finished, when Wesker slid two fingers past his lips instead. Chris moaned around them immediately, low and a little messy, the sound vibrating against Wesker’s skin. He was doing it on purpose, trying to rile the captain up, making it filthy just to see if he could crack that perfect control.
His eyes flicked upward, big and brown and way too earnest, the kind of look that always pissed Wesker off because he could never quite resist it. Those stupid soft eyes that Wesker would have to watch be ruined when Umbrella gave him the order. That thought got under his skin every single time.
Wesker’s jaw tightened. “You will never offer to pay me back again, Christopher. Not unless it is exactly like this. Do you understand?”
Chris made another sound around his fingers, half moan, half agreement. The words hit him hard. He felt cheap, like some kind of prostitute on his knees in the middle of the office, trading head for dinner. The thought should have embarrassed him. Instead it made him so horny he could barely think straight.
Heat rushed through him, thick and urgent. He shifted on his knees and started grinding down against nothing, hips rolling slowly, desperately looking for any kind of friction against the front of his pants. It was pathetic. It was perfect.
Wesker watched him for a long moment, eyes hidden behind those sunglasses but the smirk on his face saying everything. He reached over with his free hand and grabbed one of the little honey packets from the food spread. He tore it open with his teeth, then smeared the sticky sweetness over his fingers before pulling them from Chris’s mouth and coating his lips with it instead.
“Suck.”
Chris obeyed instantly, leaning in and taking Wesker’s fingers back into his mouth. He sucked lazily, tongue dragging slow and sloppy over the honey, eyes still locked upward. Usually Wesker would have scolded him by now. Would have told him to fix his form, to stop being so sloppy, to put in some actual effort. But tonight he did not say a word. It felt right like this. Hazy and loose, like the whole world outside the office had disappeared and nothing mattered except him.
The captain’s breathing stayed steady, but Chris could see the way his free hand had tightened on the arm of his chair. He was getting to him.
Chris kept grinding against his own thigh, small desperate movements that he could not quite control. Every time he moaned around those fingers the sound came out sticky and sweet from the honey. He felt ridiculous and turned on and stupidly happy all at once. Wesker had bought him dinner, argued with him, and now had him on his knees sucking honey off his fingers like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Chris was into it. Really into it.
“Pathetic,” Wesker murmured, but there was no real heat behind it. If anything, his voice sounded a little rougher than usual. “Look at you.”
Chris pulled off his fingers just long enough to grin, lips shiny with honey. “Your fault, Captain. You started it.”
Wesker pushed his fingers back in without warning, deeper this time. “I said suck. Don’t get distracted.”
Chris did. Lazier than ever. Slow, wet pulls that made obscene little sounds in the quiet office. Wesker let him keep going like that for a while.
The haze settled in deeper. Everything felt warmer, slower, like they had all the time in the world. Wesker’s hand eventually moved to Chris’s hair, not guiding him hard, just resting there, fingers threaded through the strands like he was petting him. Chris leaned into it, eyes half-lidded, moaning softly around the fingers still in his mouth.
He had never felt more safe in his entire life.
And Wesker, for all his perfect control, could not stop the small satisfied sound that slipped out when Chris looked up at him again with those same impossible eyes.
The office felt thick with heat now. Wesker leaned back in his chair, legs spread a little wider, and gave a small nod toward his lap.
Chris did not need to be told twice. He shuffled forward on his knees, hands fumbling with Wesker’s belt and zipper like it was the easiest thing in the world. When he finally got his cock out, he wrapped his lips around the head and started sucking nice and slow. Lazy again. Soft. No rush at all. Just warm, tongue sliding gently and sloppy along the underside. His eyes kept drifting half-closed, that look on his face like he could stay down there all night.
Wesker let out a long breath and rested one hand on the back of Chris’s head, not pushing, just holding him there. “That’s it. My dear.”
Chris moaned around his cock at the name, the sound low and vibrating. He kept the pace, barely bobbing his head, more focused on swirling his tongue and sucking gentle than trying to take him deep. The honey still lingered sweet on his tongue and mixed with the taste of Wesker.
Wesker watched him the whole time, sunglasses still on but his mouth curved in that little smirk. “You are keeping your attention so well tonight, Christopher. Following instructions for once, I might have to feed you more often if this is what it does to you.”
Chris felt his face burn but his cock twitched hard in his pants. The words made him grind down against his own thigh again, rolling his hips slow and needy. Wesker did not stop him this time. He just let him do it, fingers tightening slightly in Chris’s hair as he rocked.
“So soft and eager. Keeping that mouth nice and full just like I want.”
Chris made a desperate little sound and sucked a little harder, hungry now. One of his hands slipped down into his own pants without thinking, wrapping around himself and stroking in the same slow rhythm as his mouth. Wesker noticed but only hummed in approval, letting him chase it on his own for once.
Chris worked him as best he could with his mouth full, eyes watering a little as he looked up. Wesker’s hips twitched once, then twice, and suddenly he was cumming down Chris’s throat with a quiet groan, fingers gripping his hair tighter. Chris swallowed around him, messy, some of it slipping out the corner of his mouth.
That was all it took. Chris came hard a second later with his hand shoved down his pants, hips jerking against his own fist while he kept Wesker in his mouth, moaning and shaking through it. The orgasm hit him deep and hazy, leaving him panting and boneless when it finally faded.
Wesker stayed in his mouth for another long moment, petting his hair almost absentmindedly. When he finally pulled out, he wiped the mess from Chris’s chin with his thumb and fed it back to him.
“Clean,” he said quietly.
Chris licked it off without hesitation, still looking up with those same soft, fucked-out eyes.
Wesker leaned back in his chair and glanced at the half-eaten food still spread across the desk. “You should finish dinner before it gets cold. Then you are finishing that report.”
Chris let out a tired laugh, voice hoarse. “Yes, Captain.”
When this place finally collapsed, and it would, sooner than anyone else realized, Wesker knew he would have to take Chris with him. He couldn’t just leave him behind, not when the idiot had somehow burrowed his way in like he belonged there. Wesker would drag him along, kicking and screaming if he had to, but he wasn’t letting him go.
He gave Chris’s hair one last slow pet and muttered under his breath, “You are going to be more trouble than you are worth, Christopher.”
Chris just grinned up at him, soft and dopey, like he had no idea what kind of future he had just sealed for himself.