Chris Redfield x Reader

Eleven

You still remembered the kiss. It had been a shy kiss, uncertain and almost fragile.

Chris had tasted of cigarettes, smoke and alcohol.

He had not returned the kiss at first and you had been afraid he would not want to see you again after that day.

But then he leaned toward you, already one hand on your neck, and deepened the kiss. A heavy breath escaped him when he let his tongue brush over your closed lips and silently asked for admission.

You let him grant and opened your lips a crack wide, but only so much that the tip of his tongue could slip through.
Playfully he let the tip slide over your tongue until your defense crumbled down and you opened your mouth completely for him.

He could kiss well, you still remembered that quite clearly. But the fact that he tasted of alcohol and not of himself bothered you. He could have tasted so much better. The desire to taste a piece of him on your tongue spread through you.

Your hand traveled to his chest and pushed him back a bit, but he refused to let go of you and kept pulling you towards him.

He was warm and muscular. It felt good to be so close to him. Somehow, you wanted to be closer.

How would he feel underneath all these clothes?

Saliva dripped from the corner of your mouth as he became more impetuous and his tongue began to fight with yours.

When you two separated to gasp for air, your body felt like it was on fire. Your head felt hot. A light red glow had spread across your cheeks.

Breathing heavily, Chris sat across from you. He was also a little red in the face. His eyes were half closed, his lips open.

He hesitated for a moment, looking you up and down. Then he reached for the bottle to take a big sip.

"Damn.", he put the bottle back on the table with such force that you thought the glass would shatter. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

A twinge spread through your chest. You ignored it and took the bottle to drink from it, too.

"Instant regret?", you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He rubbed his eyes, visibly tired, and shook his head before laughing.

"I could never.", he whispered, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. "Not with you."

He took another sip from the bottle. It was a huge one, making it visible how much he had drank in one go.
A wave of caution washed over you, your hand twitched and you wanted to grab the bottle.

But Chris noticed immediately, as always when you had something in mind and chugged down more vodka.

"Redfield.", you grabbed him by the hand and forced him to turn to you. "We should leave. It's enough."

A shadow crawled over his face. He frowned. But he did not protest, as you dragged him out of the bar and into the streets.

He was already a bit weak on his feet, not walking straight no more.

You tried to support him by putting an arm around his waste.

But Chris was at that point of being drunk which forced him to be a funny jerk. He grabbed your arm, twirled you around and began to dance through the streets while laughter made his chest tremble.

You couldn't follow his steps properly, stumbling and walking in circles, while your head began to spin.

"Redfield...", you mumbled, close to throwing up.

He stopped all of a sudden. As he looked at you, he seemed a bit angry.

You tired to smile, but it died down as he didn't return the gesture.

"When will you stop calling me that?", he asked, suddenly stone cold sober.

Your heart jumped.

"Call you what?", you frowned and reached for his face.

He dodged your hand.

"Redfield. That's my last name. You started calling me that back when I was your commander. We're partners now.", he held his breath. "Call me by my name."

It sounded like a request, something he really, really wanted.

You tilted your head, letting out a deep breath.

"Chris.", you said and laughed.

But he still looked displeased.

"Different.", he said, stroking your glowing cheeks.
"What exactly?"

Your heart beat faster again. His fingers felt so soft, so gentle on your skin.

What was going on?

A slim smile appeared on his lips as he tilted his head and kissed you again.

"Call me by my name.", his voice was rough. "Like you want it. Let me hear your pretty voice, calling for me. I want to know how it feels like."

The rest was a blur. Before your eyes, the memories began to fade and the streets disappeared. Everything moved, twisted and changed.

The next thing that appeared before your eyes was a room that looked shady yet proper at the same time. It was a hotel room. Chris's hotel room.

His clothes were spread across the floor, the scent of his perfume filled the air.

There were hands. They were everywhere, stroking your body and playing in the places where you were sensitive.
A soft moan escaped you as the hand traveled to your neck and squeezed lightly.

Your back arched and you pressed against Chris, who pressed against you so that you were exactly where he wanted you to be. He did not let you move and grab him.

Instead, he raised his leg and let it slide between your legs, putting you into a position that made your core burn.
His body was so warm, he seemed to be on fire himself.
His other hand moved between your legs.

Another sound escaped you as his palm pressed against your middle.

"Chris.", his name sounded like a whimper from your mouth.

He released his lips from yours and looked at you for a moment. Then he smirked.

"That's it.", he whispered and lifted you up. "Say it again. Please."

"Chris.", you pulled him into another heated kiss.