The newspaper rustled as the dark-haired man turned the page, leaning slightly forward in his seat. His eyes scanned the small text as he randomly picked up his cup of coffee from the counter and took a sip. It was only 9 o'clock in the morning; there was no hurry, and Barry took pleasure in just sitting there and eating his breakfast.

On the seat next to him, the blond S.T.A.R.S. captain stared absently at his plate, mind lost in small details concerning their last mission. It had been quite successful - they had rescued a few lost hikers from the forest. The team had returned late last night, and Wesker has postponed writing the report until later. He was usually very organized with his work, but this report was not one of his priorities. He planned to write it before lunch today.

He gave a nod and a half smile to the waitress who stopped by to fill his coffee cup, then turned to look at Barry, blue-gray eyes studying the front page of the newspaper from behind dark glasses.

"How's the paper? Anything interesting going on?"

"Nothing out of ordinary. S.T.A.R.S. made it to the third page though." Barry turned to look at the captain, flipping back a few pages of the newspaper and showing it to the other man. Wesker looked calmly at the neatly written article on the third page of the paper; it had a picture of the safely returned hikers, and the reporter had succeeded in getting comments from someone high-ranking in the police department. He shrugged mentally, remembering that someone had called him early in the morning. He'd just answered 'no comments' and hung up the phone.

"I'm still half expecting them to sneak over here to try to get comments from us, since this thing mentions 'S.T.A.R.S. team being unavailable for comments'. Enrico mentioned something about someone trying to call him this morning. Someone from the paper, I bet."

Wesker nodded. "They tried calling me, too. I didn't feel like talking to them."

Barry smiled understandingly, reaching for the coffee again. He guessed the press didn't know where they ate breakfast, which meant they were quite safe for now. Wesker was probably expected to give a short statement later, but the small diner a few blocks away from the office offered the two S.T.A.R.S. members a temporary escape.

He glanced at the captain, noticing that the blond was lost in thought again, and shrugged. Since Wesker didn't obviously feel like talking, he concentrated back on the newspaper, stopping only once in a while to sip his coffee or take a bite of his food.

The captain's eyes wandered on the wall behind the counter, not really seeing it. His thoughts were lost again, mostly on the report he was going to write when they got back to the office. He drank his coffee, carefully going through the details for the report. By the time they'd go back, he would have every word planned. All there was left to do was to type it down.

The waitress stopped to ask if he wanted more coffee, and he shook his head. The report found a form in his thoughts, and he almost smiled.

Someone who'd been sitting a few seats away from him left the diner. A slight draft from the door distracted the blond a little, and he changed position, eyes concentrating on reading random headlines from Barry's newspaper. He wasn't particularly interested in the news, but for some reason, he felt like staring at something while thinking.

Wonder if anyone else has written reports yet, he pondered silently, staring at a random headline about something sports related. Probably not. The whole team was quite tired last night.

He frowned invisibly, half forced to listen to a few men sitting at a nearby table talking loudly about hunting. The topic didn't interest him any more than the news did, but this he just couldn't avoid. He sighed without sound, turning to stare at his half-eaten breakfast. The food here was good, but his appetite was gone.

The door opened again, and two men entered, talking about something related to Umbrella. Wesker wouldn't have cared otherwise, but the other man's voice made him freeze. He recognized the speaker all too well. He hadn't heard that voice for quite a while.

...William?

The gaze of his gray-blue eyes stayed where it was as he resisted the urge to turn to look at the owner of that voice. He could, however, see the two Umbrella scientists from the corner of his eye. The other one he didn't know - a young man with sandy brown hair and glasses - but the other one he didn't even have to see to recognize. He caught a glimpse of the man anyway as they stopped by the counter to order coffee. Blond hair and lab coat... Everything was exactly as he remembered. The man was William Birkin.

What are you doing here?

He glanced hastily at the other S.T.A.R.S. member; Barry was still reading his newspaper and didn't pay any attention to the newcomers. Of course, Barry had no idea that he knew the blond scientist.

Knew. His thoughts nagged him almost mockingly. Oh yes, you know him. You worked with him for years. Oh, and you kind of used to sleep with him. For all those years...

Wesker frowned visibly now, staring at his half-empty cup. He was thankful for his skill of keeping a calm appearance; the fact that the younger man was standing less than 10 feet away made him quite uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable? Would "aroused" be a better word?

Birkin chatted randomly with the other man, talking about nothing important. It disturbed the S.T.A.R.S. captain greatly. He couldn't remember William ever just talking about non-important matters like that.

Then again, it's been a while since I met him the last time. He might've changed.

That was a lie, and he knew it. Birkin never changed. He'd acted the same for almost twenty years now, save for a period where the younger man had snapped for reasons he didn't feel like thinking about. But this... This was just wrong.

His discomfort grew even stronger when the two scientists moved closer, and Birkin took the seat next to him. He kept staring at the counter, wondering what was going on. Surely William knew who he was, but the lack of reaction agitated him. Then again, it was more than likely that the scientist was mirroring his actions and pretending not to know him, but everything else in the younger man's actions bothered him. Why would Birkin come here for coffee? Why was he chatting with the other scientist? Why was he being everything opposite of what he remembered of the man?

Birkin smiled to the waitress who brought the coffee. He placed his keys on the counter while picking up his cup and drinking from it. He was paying no attention to the man clad in a standard S.T.A.R.S. uniform.

It's been a long time, William. I haven't seen you since we were at Arklay Labs to dispose of her. But what the hell is going on? Why are you here? What kind of mind games are you playing?

Wesker gritted his teeth, refusing to turn to look at the other man. He suddenly knew that that was exactly what was going on. His old lover was into his little games again.

My lover indeed...

He almost laughed at the thought, but kept himself calm and raised his face, concentrating on staring at the wall behind the counter again. He'd never seriously considered their relationship that of lovers; there were no feelings, none that he'd admitted existing anyway. Reality, however, was that during the long years he'd spent working in the Arklay facility, this man had been his... lover. He couldn't think of a better word, even if it wasn't the right word for it.

He failed to keep his gaze on the wall any longer. Of course, no one noticed since his gray-blue eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. His eyes studied carefully the slender form sitting next to him. Nothing had changed indeed; Birkin still looked the same.

And you still look like you're not getting enough sleep, he added in his mind, almost amused.

His train of thought de-railed as he remember another detail concerning the fact that Birkin still looked the same. Wesker happened to know what was under the white lab coat. He smirked, then took a deep breath as his body reacted to that memory. He suddenly found the coffee cup very interesting again.

Yes, I remember. Too damn well...

Birkin continued his irrelevant discussion with the younger scientist, finishing his coffee. After doing so he placed the cup on the counter, searched his pockets for some money, then left a couple of bills next to the cup and picked up his keys.

As Birkin was getting up from his seat, the S.T.A.R.S. captain involuntarily turned his head to the side and glanced up at his old partner. He blinked. Light-blue eyes stared into his for a fraction of a second, knowing exactly what was hidden behind the dark glasses. Wesker could've sworn he saw something familiar in that look before it was gone; Birkin turned away and walked after the other scientist, exiting the diner.

He knew that look too well. The old fire was still there. It made him shiver in a way he didn't want to think of.

It was only then that he noticed Birkin had forgotten something. One single key with a small silvery tag was lying on the counter. For some reason, he felt the need to raise his hand and place it over the key, and then he glanced around to check that no one had noticed him doing so. He felt somehow guilty. The men at the table further away were still talking and obviously not paying attention. Barry was still reading the paper, and there was no one else near enough to see. He could feel the small key under his fingers; the cold metal burned his hand and he didn't know why.

He pocketed the item, feeling like a thief. Then he drank the rest of his coffee, frowning a bit as he realized the liquid was almost cold now.

"Wesker?"

He almost dropped the cup, then calmly placed it on the counter and turned to look at the other S.T.A.R.S. member.

"Hmm. I guess I'm done with my breakfast. Ready to go, Barry?" He asked calmly, reaching for his wallet. He picked a few random bills, knowing very well how much the food cost. They ate here often, and usually ordered the same thing. He nodded to the waitress who was serving another customer further away, then turned and headed to the door.

Barry took the newspaper, glancing at the money the captain had left on the counter. He felt like objecting to the fact that Wesker had also paid for his food, but just shook his head and followed the other man to the door. He decided that he would pay for the captain's breakfast the next morning or something.

A random member of the S.T.A.R.S. team - the captain didn't pay attention to exactly who - stopped by the door, informing Wesker that someone from the Raccoon City newspaper was there again, for the second time today. The blond shook his head and mumbled something about not having anything to say to the media.

The report lay on his desk, barely started. It had the date and the name of the mission, as well as the names of the S.T.A.R.S. members participating, but that was it. Wesker stared blankly at the report, sighing for the third time during the last fifteen minutes. He couldn't concentrate. He cursed his mind for being so shattered; he'd known what to write when eating breakfast. Now, it was all gone.

He'd skipped lunch; it was half past two in the afternoon now. He stared at his desk, realizing that he hadn't done a thing today. He also knew very well why.

He sighed again, then slowly reached for his pocket, pulling out the small key. He stared at it reluctantly, not wanting to think of the person it belonged to, or rather, who had given it to him. He instinctively knew that Birkin hadn't just forgotten the key. This was a mind game, and he knew who had won already.

Slender fingers played with the silvery key for a moment. Then he raised it and allowed his gray-blue eyes study the key, curious. It had a number engraved on it; three digits that appeared on both sides of the key. 122. The number itself meant nothing. The silver tag also had the same number on it, as well as some writing that identified the key as belonging to Holiday Motel.

Wesker didn't know the place, nor had he ever been there, but he knew the Raccoon City map from memory. He'd seen that name before, and knew that Holiday Motel was next to the highway near the eastern part of the city. Room 122 was probably the 22nd room in building one or something. His mind played with the details, then he dropped the key on the desk and cursed William Birkin to hell for the 100th time today.

"If you think you can get me into bed that easily, you sure don't know me, William."

He laughed, shaking his head. Saying such things was stupid when he knew he was lying to himself. Birkin had left him a key. The only explanation was that he wanted to see him. But for what? They hadn't talked for a long time, not since his last visit to Arklay Labs to help dispose of the woman.

He knew that Birkin worked in a lab in Raccoon City now. No one in S.T.A.R.S. knew that Wesker worked for Umbrella, though, and he avoided contact with any Umbrella personnel. Those two scientists showing up in the diner that morning had been nothing but a coincidence. They didn't know him. They'd just gotten coffee and left.

Coincidence. Just a coincidence. Yes. Also, cows can fly.

He laughed again, wondering how things would appear if one of the S.T.A.R.S. members walked into the office at that moment. They would probably think that he'd lost his mind.

That I have, a long time ago. Back when I was young, stupid and quite fanatic with my work, and allowed William Birkin to fuck me whenever he felt like it.

The captain took a deep breath, relaxing in his chair. The thoughts from the diner returned. Yes, he knew what Birkin looked like without the damned lab coat. He also knew what it felt like to be held by the younger man... And what kind of control Birkin could have over someone's spirit. He frowned, his skin heating up slightly. He tried to get the images out of his mind, but failed and just closed his eyes. He hadn't been with anyone for a long time. Not since he had been back to Arklay Labs to help dispose of the...

Damn you to the deepest pits of hell, William Birkin!

He picked up the key, glaring at it accusingly. He opened the top drawer of his desk and dropped it in there, then took another key that was used to lock the drawer. He locked it and put his keys away, smiling to himself. Case closed. William would have to do better than this if he wanted to win this game. He glanced at a post-it note that had been left on his desk earlier, then picked up the phone and dialed the number written on the note. He would give a short statement to the newspaper after all, and then it would be time for the report.

Digital numbers on the sign of some bank indicated that it was 11.07 PM. Wesker sighed, glancing around before crossing the street. It was raining lightly, and his hair felt damp. He wasn't cold; he was wearing a black jacket over his STARS uniform, for a reason he couldn't really figure out.

Maybe it's because I'm sneaking around here, feeling like a damn criminal.

Holiday Motel consisted of two buildings; the office was in a separate building next to them. Both buildings were two-storied, and room 122 was, as he'd guessed, in the first one. Building one was facing away from the highway, and the 22nd room was at the very end, the door hidden from the streetlights in the darkest part of the yard surrounding the motel area.

He stared at the door for a moment, considering turning away and just going home. Coming here was ridiculous enough already. He didn't need to know what the reason for his being here was, though he could guess... And that guess made his skin heat up again. He closed his eyes for a moment, then moved to the door and took the key from his pocket. He didn't remember how it had gotten out of his drawer and into his pocket, but it was there, waiting to be used on the door before him.

Wesker took one more glance at the number on the door, making sure it was room 122. The key fit; he pushed the door open and stepped into the dark room. He blinked, his eyes not adjusted to complete darkness, even if it was dark outside and he was still wearing his trademark sunglasses. He dropped the key on a small table beside the door, standing still for a moment. He didn't want to turn the lights on. He scanned the room as his eyes adjusted to the dark and noted that it was a quite comfortable, spacious room with a big double bed by the wall in front of him.

"Hmm."

He stepped forward, slowly taking his jacket off and dropping it to the floor. Suddenly, he felt just stupid.

He spun around when hearing the door close behind him; soft click indicting that it had also locked. He stared, parting his lips as if to say something, but he couldn't think of a thing. He could see a dark, thin form standing before him. He could also see that the person was wearing a long white coat.

"...William?"

The figure stepped closer, smirking. Then, slender arms wrapped around the blond's neck, drawing him closer, a bit downwards, and he lost himself in the passionate kiss that followed.

When they parted, Wesker staggered back a few steps, dropping to sit on the bed. He tried to breathe calmly to stop himself from shaking. The other man walked casually to the other side of the bed, lighting a lamp that was on the nightstand. Warm yellow light, not too bright, spread into the dark room, creating shadows on the walls.

"At least you still remember my name. Heh... Albert."

"How could I forget." The S.T.A.R.S. captain smiled slightly, eyes studying the other's tall form hungrily. He felt a sudden urge to attack Birkin and rip the lab coat off the younger man.

The scientist gave him a strangely gentle smile. "It's been a while. You look well, Albert."

"You don't, William," Wesker answered with a calm voice. "You look like you've spent the last three days in the lab without sleeping or eating."

"Maybe I have." The younger man circled the bed and stopped in front of his old partner. Light-blue eyes studied the S.T.A.R.S. captain's strong form with a certain fiery look that Wesker knew only he had ever seen. He'd never noticed Birkin showing the same feelings towards his wife. The captain almost laughed, knowing that Birkin had married Annette for only one thing. The pleasure of doing certain things... That, William got from elsewhere.

"Hmh. What would your wife say if she knew where you were right now?"

"What Annette doesn't know doesn't hurt her. I don't care in any case. It's not like she was totally ignorant of the things we were doing...Heh. And it's not like she could ever stop me from doing what I want, anyway."

The older man smiled a bit, knowing what the truth was. Birkin had married that woman, but that had only stopped him from going to the younger man's room. It never stopped William from coming to his room. And that the younger scientist had done quite often...

Wesker shook his head, unable to keep himself from staring at the other man. William was tall - a few inches shorter than he was though - and a lot thinner. Considering the physical condition he was in now compared to the time at Arklay Labs, Birkin looked fragile next to him. This, however, had nothing to do with who was stronger. It had always been a mind game, and he was well aware of who the winner was in of those games.

The younger man stared back, a strange smirk on his face. Then, before Wesker had time to even blink, he found himself lying on the bed on his back, straddled by the scientist. He answered with a feline grin, leaning up enough to do what he'd wanted to earlier. The lab coat came off without resistance; that was, however, the limit for now.

Birkin grabbed the other man by the shoulders and pushed him down, hands working on the S.T.A.R.S. vest. He frowned, mumbling something about his partner wearing clothes that were easier to take off back then. Wesker laughed, moving his hands to help remove the vest. His pride hurt a bit from allowing Birkin to take him so easily, but his body argued more convincingly. He wanted, no, needed this. Badly.

The vest was discarded to the floor next to the bed, and Birkin proceeded to remove the older man's blue shirt. This time the garment didn't give him too much trouble. Under that, the captain was wearing a light-gray T-shirt; the scientist simply settled for ripping it off, not caring for the annoyed frown he got from the older man.

Wesker lay down, not bothering to offer any resistance. He didn't feel like fighting back. What would happen tonight was something Birkin had carefully planned, and it would be better just to play along. He knew his old friend better; William could get into a violent mood if needed.

"Slow..." He mocked the younger man, a playful, almost disapproving smile on his face.

William laughed, working to remove the blond's pants. "It's been a while indeed, Albert. Haven't you done anything since I took you the last time? Hmm, apparently not..."

The older man shook his head, resisting a random desire to kick the shorter man off him, press him down on the bed, and take him. He knew himself better; Birkin was always in control, whatever their roles in bed were, and the younger man sure didn't let him to get on top often, if ever. It didn't matter. He hated admitting it, but he liked what Birkin did to him.

"What do you think? I thought you knew me better, William. Such things don't interest me."

"Of course. You're above such lowly human needs, Albert. You always have been, just like me... You can't deny this from yourself, however. You never could."

Wesker squirmed a little, trying to help the younger man get the dark pants off. They came off soon enough and were thrown aside, forgotten to the floor next to the vest and shoes that Birkin removed in the process. The scientist stopped to admire his work for a moment, the same calm smirk on his face. Behind the calmness Wesker could, however, see something deeper. He smiled when noticing the fire he'd seen earlier the same day in the light-blue eyes. He guessed the fire had never faded; it had just waited there, hidden somewhere. Waiting for a moment like this one...

"Why don't you cut the random small talk already, William. I think we both know why you wanted to see me. I have to admire you, though... You went through a lot of trouble just to get me here. You could've just called, you know. I have a phone. And I really doubt that you don't know the number."

The younger man tilted his head, grinning a bit. "Called? What's the fun in that?"

The S.T.A.R.S. captain laughed quietly. "Thought so. You just love your little games."

"Indeed, Albert." Birkin chuckled, crawling on top of the older man like a cat. He placed a heated kiss on Wesker's lips, then moved lower, gnawing gently on the blond's jaw and neck. His hands wandered on the other man's body; he was quite amused by the fact that his friend was physically quite stronger than he was.

"Lovely..." He muttered, stopping to lick one small nub on the older man's chest. Wesker closed his eyes, feeling flushed all over. No one but Birkin had this kind of effect on him. He didn't care for sex. Sex was something weak humans needed, and he considered himself to be the opposite, and yes, above those needs. Birkin was different, though. He'd known it from the start, from the very first time he'd felt those slender arms around him.

A silent sigh escaped his lips as the younger man continued nibbling on his chest gently. He squirmed slightly, feeling Birkin's left hand advancing lower on his side, knowing where it was headed. He pressed his hips eagerly against the hand as it reached its target, ignoring the fact that him being completely aroused made Birkin laugh. He retaliated by capturing the younger man's hair with his fingers, holding him there.

"Bastard..."

"Ah, how you missed me indeed, Albert. Your body... burns with the need for my touch."

Skilled fingers wrapped around the S.T.A.R.S. captain's hard member, stroking gently. Wesker blinked, feeling warm tears forming in his eyes. Birkin was so damn right again. He had missed this. It didn't stop him from trying to think of something intelligent to silence the younger man with, but he couldn't think of anything. He bit his lip, knowing that it was too late to try to say anything, anyway.

"Nnn..." He glanced down, relishing the feel of Birkin's lips advancing on his skin. Mind games or not, this was where Birkin always won in the end. He didn't exactly know where the younger man had learned to be so good at this, and had never bothered to find out.

"...Albert..." Birkin stopped for a moment, looking up at his friend's face. The other lay lax on the sheets, breathing slowly, waiting.

"Mind handing me the lubricant from the nightstand? Unless of course you feel like letting me do this without it..."

The older man felt himself blushing; sometimes, Birkin had forgotten to use anything. He'd gotten used to it, and even liked it. He never said it, but blood turned him on more than anything else did. He wouldn't have minded William forgetting about the lubricant this time, either, but some small part of his mind reminded him that he was expected to go to work tomorrow, and finish that damned report he'd failed to write after all. That meant sitting behind his desk, and while he knew that he could hide the fact of his being sore from his men, it would still hurt like hell.

Like I won't feel sore in the morning, anyway...

He laughed, reaching for the nightstand. His hand came across something and he handed it to the younger man, who rewarded him with a knowing smirk.

"Thank you, Albert..." The scientist snickered quietly, spreading some of the contents of the small container on the fingers of his left hand. He nudged the other man's legs apart a bit, then grinned smugly as the blond sighed and spread his legs voluntarily. Birkin positioned himself between the slender legs, leaning down to kiss the tip of the older man's member. Wesker's hands went instantly for the other's hair again, and he bit his lip when William started sucking on the hard length.

"...Aah... gods, William..."

He felt powerless. It had really been too long since anyone had touched him. He pulled the younger man's hair, trying to press himself against the pleasuring mouth. He frowned, annoyed as the other stopped for a moment, then blinked and cursed himself for forgetting what would happen next when two long fingers buried themselves into his body, pressing accurately against a certain spot inside of him.

It was hell, as always. It hurt a bit, but this was the control Birkin had. He could've gotten the other man off easily, but finding the strength to do so was a different thing. Or, finding the will to do so. The caresses drove him insane. Birkin moved his fingers slightly, drawing them out a bit, then pressing in again. At the same time, the younger man also suckled cautiously on the hard member.

Weak, silent moans the blond didn't want to hear from himself escaped his lips. It was too much, and it had been too long. He arched his back, shaking his head helplessly.

"...William... Wil...liam... Aaah... N...no... William!!" He called out the younger man's name as he came, mortified by the fact that he was so easy. He panted, soon falling against the sheets, spent. A moment passed, then he could hear Birkin laughing mockingly and quite insanely.

"...Shut the hell up, William..."

"My, if it really hasn't been a long time for you, Albert. I do remember you being easy, but this easy... Heh... hehehehehe..."

Wesker opened his eyes, glaring at the younger man. He then realized he was still wearing his sunglasses, and snatched them off, annoyed. There was no point in glaring at Birkin if the younger man couldn't see his eyes. Now that that was possible, he gave William a dirty glare, then turned and carefully placed the sunglasses on the nightstand.

"You're married, you bastard. At least you've gotten some while you haven't had my ass around," he hissed angrily, giving the younger man another dark look.

Birkin had stopped laughing, and now stared back at the S.T.A.R.S. captain's face, lips curled to an amused smirk. He changed his position a little, still lying between Wesker's spread legs, and gave his old partner a slight reminder of who was in control. That wasn't too hard to do, since his fingers were still inside the older man; pressing them against the other man's prostate rewarded him with a lovely gasp and caused gray-blue eyes to widen.

"...Damn you, William!!"

"What is it, Albert? Don't say you didn't like that..." Birkin laughed a bit, enjoying himself immensely. He loved the way he could get Wesker to react to anything he did. He continued moving his fingers slightly, pressing against that weak spot again. The older man glared at him again, but couldn't really resist. Of course Wesker couldn't say that he didn't like it. Saying that would've been lying.

The blond captain pressed his head against the sheets, not feeling like staring into Birkin's laughing eyes any longer. He breathed heavily, his body heating up again. It was too soon, and there was no visible reaction at his crotch yet, but he could feel it with every single cell in his body. He needed it; needed more. He closed his eyes again, deciding to keep himself from pressing against the two digits inside of him... as long as he could, anyway. He knew he'd do it eventually.

Another thing was keeping him from begging for Birkin to take him. He guessed that moment would also come sooner or later; William had that effect on him. He tried to relax, failing to keep himself from responding in any way as he wrapped one leg about the younger man's shoulder, providing better access. That was a mistake, of course, as now he could feel the fingers being pressed even deeper, pleasuring him with even the slightest move.

"...William..."

"Mmmh. You look adorable like that, did you know?" Birkin grinned, his right hand wandering absently on the older man's chest, stopping to caress the hard nubs now and then.

Wesker sighed, knowing that anything he said would not have been a good answer. His hands lay at his sides for the moment, and he pulled the sheets randomly, noticing that he couldn't keep himself from pressing against the younger man's hand anymore. His body had a mind of its own, and he moved slightly against Birkin's hand every time those two fingers pressed deep into him. He bit his lip again, noticing he'd drawn blood. The taste made him even weaker, and the remains of his frail control escaped him. He found himself moaning the other man's name again, sooner than he'd expected.

An amused, slightly insane laughter echoed in the room for a moment, then Birkin stopped to admire his ex-partner again, light-blue eyes scanning the other's strong form carefully. He moved his right hand to fondle the older man's member, skillfully stroking the length until he got a reaction again. Wesker cursed silently, glancing down, defeated.

"You're mine, Albert..."

The older man considered answering that he might have been Birkin's, but the younger man would never get him to say that. He bit his lip harder to keep himself from making that comment. Saying it would've been suicide, for he knew that Birkin could, if he wanted, make him say anything. The other was a master of sexual torture. He'd experienced that a couple of times in the past and didn't want to take the risk right now. His body certainly couldn't take it.

He kicked the younger man's side, glaring at him with as much annoyance as he could muster in his current state. Since he was going to say it anyway, he might as well do so while he was still thinking almost straight.

"Shut the fuck up already and take me, William."

Birkin chuckled, shaking his head. "You sure are easy tonight, Albert. But, if you insist..."

The scientist worked with his clothes a bit, also stopping to add some of the lubricant to his own sex. Then he placed a gentle kiss on the older man's member before drawing himself up on the bed, still on top of the other man. Wesker glared at him, trying to look angry, and grabbed his shoulders. Birkin sure loved doing this with most of his clothes still on. He dug his fingers into the younger man's white shirt, then tore the cloth off, smirking victoriously when succeeding at baring the other's slender shoulders. Birkin rewarded him by grabbing his thighs and thrusting into him almost violently.

"Heheh... Albert..."

"...Hrm." He blinked, suddenly wishing he'd still had the sunglasses on, for warm tears suddenly blurred his vision.

Gods, how I've missed this.

Wesker closed his eyes, letting a soft sigh escape his lips before it died under a passionate kiss. The younger man kept his weight mostly on his right arm which was pressed against the sheets next to the blond's head; Birkin's left hand caressed the other man's hair gently as they kissed. He moved carefully at first, knowing his friend wouldn't have minded a bit rougher treatment, but he wanted to do it calmly.

"Albert... You're crying."

"...I'm... not..." The blond sobbed silently against Birkin's lips. He wrapped his legs around the younger man, hating himself for doing so but at the same time being too weak to do anything else. He needed this desperately, and his pride would have step aside for that. At least he'd managed to get rid of that cursed shirt and could dig his nails into the younger man's shoulders. He did so, with enough power to make William bleed.

Birkin laughed, continuing his thrusts with calm control. He was proud of the fact that he could keep himself composed until he'd gotten a release out of the older man; after that, it didn't matter anymore. Wesker squirmed under him, and the slight pain on his shoulders made him smile. It sure wasn't the first time.

"...Yes you are, Albert..." He whispered into the older man's ear, nibbling on the blond's earlobe gently. He had other things to be proud of as well - he was the only one who'd ever gotten tears into those cold gray-blue eyes.

The S.T.A.R.S. captain pressed himself against the thrusts, losing himself completely to the bliss. This was everything he needed. He clung weakly to the younger man, not giving a damn anymore about the fact that Birkin was laughing like a maniac. He felt complete every time the hard length was pressed into him. Birkin was right, as always. The bastard did own him.

"...William... aahh.... nh... William... William..."

"So very adorable... How you call my name... Heh..." Birkin laughed between breaths; keeping control was something he could do, but sometimes it exhausted him. Like this time; yes, he got the chance to mock Albert about not having done this for a long time, not since he had taken the man the last time... But it had been a long time for him, too. He didn't sleep with Wesker for no good reason. Annette couldn't give him the same kind of pleasure; any act with his wife lacked the control he had over Wesker. Unfortunately, the control was what gave him the real pleasure. He needed Albert Wesker as much as the other man needed him.

"Albert... So... very... mine..." He murmured, slipping his left hand between their bodies while continuing to move. He calculated his control would fail him sooner than expected, but getting Wesker to release was still something he would do before that happened.

"Nnnh... Mmmm... Wi... William..." The blond writhed powerlessly, clinging to the younger man. The small part of his mind that still stayed sane taunted him for having no control over his body. He wasn't listening. Birkin's controlled thrusts were more than enough, all that he needed anymore. The orgasm consumed him too soon and his last thought was a wish that he could've taken it a bit longer. He couldn't help it. His vision blanked and his mind slipped into darkness as he called out the younger man's name once more.

Birkin laughed insanely, just for a moment before his mind went blank. He cried out the S.T.A.R.S. captain's name when releasing, then collapsed on top of him, barely sane enough to pull himself out from the blond's body before falling asleep.

The curtains covering the window let in a thin beam of sunlight that hit Wesker's face. He turned away, annoyed, and reached for his sunglasses. They were on the nightstand; he put them on, then pressed his head back against the pillows. His aching body reminded him of last night's events.

"...Nnh..."

"Morning, Albert."

Wesker glanced down, only to find the younger man resting against his shoulder. Birkin was lying on his back, sheets drawn over both of them. He was naked, which made Wesker guess that the younger man had woken up sometime during the night, cleaned them both and then gotten rid of his clothes before going back to sleep.

"...I have to go to work," He mumbled, not really caring to check what time it was. Probably too late, but he didn't want to think about it. He felt rested, like he had slept better than he had in a very long time.

Birkin smiled calmly, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on the older man's lips before getting up. He got his clothes on, looking slightly annoyed by the fact that his shirt was torn. It didn't matter. He picked the lab coat up from the floor where Wesker had dropped it last night and covered the shredded shirt with it.

"I suggest you take a shower, then."

"Hmh." The S.T.A.R.S. captain closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to his side and stared at the younger man. Birkin picked up the key from the small table where the older man had left it when entering the room, and studied it absently.

"Heh. Maybe I will call the next time." He dropped the key into the pocket of his lab coat, then stepped closer and sat on the rim of the bed. He reached to caress the blond's hair, keeping the calm smile on his face. Next time. Now that he'd gotten a reminder of what the control was like, there would surely be a next time. Finding Wesker was easy, too, since the man worked in the same town that he did. Maybe he would call the next time... He grinned at the thought.

Wesker sighed, his mind once again failing to find the right words for a reply. He settled for laughing quietly, then nuzzling Birkin's hand a bit. His thoughts mirrored the scientist's; he knew that there would be a next time. He didn't mind. He could also guess that Birkin wouldn't just call him. No, it had to be a game of some sort. He couldn't wait to see what William would come up with.

The younger man kissed Wesker on the forehead, then stood up. "I'll take the key to the office. You have till noon to get out of here... I'd get up if I were you, though. It's almost 8 AM. You said you have work."

Birkin gave the older man one last look, smirking in a way that only Wesker understood, then opened the door and left.

The captain lay on the bed for a long time, staring at the door. He knew his hair was a bit out of order where Birkin had caressed him earlier. He smoothed his hair, annoyed by the fact that it was messed up anyway. He turned to his back, wincing a little. He would constantly be reminded of this night for a few days, whenever he changed position.

Not that I wouldn't remember it anyway...

He threw the sheets to the side, slowly getting up from the bed and making his way to the shower. The water wasn't too hot, but he didn't care. After the short shower he dried himself quickly and got dressed. He gave the room a final look before opening the door and walking away, smiling to himself as he pondered what kind of a weird game William would come up with the next time.

Author's notes:

Uh... A random idea I felt like writing. Ignore me. I love the idea of getting S.T.A.R.S. Wesker screwed by Birkin.

- Lady Harken (December, 2002)