Chrisker One-Shots

I'll Be Seeing You

Summary:

The greatest pain in Chris' life gives him solace.

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The red glare of the alarm clock blinked in the darkness of the room, letting the dark blue eyes focused on them know that it was much too early to be awake.

Chris stared at the 03:31 until it changed to 03:32.

Why had he woken up? There was a light sheen of sweat on him, old and cool by this point, turning his thick body into a clammy mess.

Had he dreamt of something particularly nightmarish?

Goodness knows he had dealt with enough nightmares in his life. Maybe he had just gotten too hot?

Sitting up, Chris pushed away the dark green sheets splayed over his legs and after standing he picked up the discarded boxers from the floor and slid them on before making his way out of the bedroom.

He walked through his apartment and into the kitchen where he gulped down some cool water. Refilling the glass, he left the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks.

Sitting on Chris' old couch as though it was his rightful spot was Wesker.

Despite the slight heat of the apartment he looked immaculate in his all leather ensemble including a leather coat.

Chris only looked away when he felt ice-cold wet on his bare feet.

The glass had fallen and broken in half on the floor, spraying his feet with water. He looked back up to Wesker. "...How...?" Was all he could get out, unable to wrap his mind around this moment.

He should have known this would happen; two rockets to the face while standing in lava wouldn't take down this beast.

Sure, it had been the better part of a year since he had last seen Wesker but here he was, alive and well if the slight quirk on the blonde's lips told Chris anything.

He couldn't see Wesker's eyes but he just knew they were roving over his body. Chris really wished that he had put on more clothes right now.

With an elegance that seemed to flow so naturally from the tall blonde he stood up and made his way over to Chris.

The brunette stood his ground even when Wesker crunched the glass under his feet, making Chris mentally wince at the loud sound in the otherwise quiet apartment.

He hated that he had to look up at Wesker. No matter how much he worked out this damn man would always make him feel insignificant.

This was definitely a state of dress that Wesker enjoyed seeing on the young male. "Were you expecting me?" The rolling marble of Wesker's voice was just as it had always been, mocking and condescending, with a hint of a tease.

He leaned closer to Chris, boxing the younger man against the jamb of the kitchen doorway.

This close to the blonde, Chris could make out the red of Wesker's eyes through his sunglasses and while a little part of him had indeed found them attractive another part of him hated the red like fire irises and pupils slit like a snake's.

As he leaned in, Chris turned his head away, staring at the shadow covered wall perpendicular to him.

He felt the rough texture of masculine skin against his own and then the parting of lips as Wesker spoke.

"It's been a long time, Chris," and despite all of that time the sound of the dragged S in his name still did funny things to his insides.

The moment cool leather found his narrow waist, Chris was pushing against the broad chest of his former Captain, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that it was him who made Wesker step back from his personal space; Wesker did only what Wesker wanted to do.