Anything for you, Captain

by ithilien_wolf

Summary:

Enrico Marini, an alpha, is becoming quite annoying for Captain Wesker, an omega, suggesting with his behaviour indecent intentions. Chris can't take this shit anymore, but Wesker seems not to approve of his territorial alpha instincts.

Notes:

Thanks to Ardnaif for her invaluable help beta reading <3_<3

Day 3 of Chrisker Week 2023 - Prompt: "Omegaverse"

This is my first time writing Omegaverse, I never thought I would. Actually, it's very light and you can almost read it as a regular story a little strong on instincts xD
I don't have the next chapters finished, but I hope in a few days, it will be complete. I don't know yet if it will be 2 chapters or 3.

Chapter 1: White knight

Chris has been taking note of the rude looks and distasteful remarks Marini is been dropping lately, all of them subtly directed towards his captain. Chris himself hasn’t noticed any strange smell to Wesker that could be a sign that the omega is approaching a heat or something, but Marini, another alpha like himself, has been throwing darts in that direction anyway. The leader of the Bravo team sports a confident attitude around the Captain of the S.T.A.R.S. unit, as if they know each other well. But Chris, despite being the most recent admission to the Alpha team, is already very perceptive of his captain’s subtle expressions. And he knows Wesker loathes Marini’s behavior deeply.

Chris was in the showers of the RPD, out of sight, when he heard a little exchange between the two of them. Captain Wesker must have come into the locker room, likely searching for some personal effect, when Marini greeted him, voice brimming with joy, probably assuming they were alone together.

“Evenin’, Captain. Mmm, such a sweet smell in the lockers lately, isn’t it? Warms my heart a little,” he purred.

“Don’t you have anything else to do, Enrico? Wasting your time like this,” Wesker’s voice, calm as ever, reverberated in the place. It sounded quieter by the end, as if he was leaving.

Chris heard Marini’s dry laugh and came out of the showers with a towel around his waist. He shot the older man a look completely devoid of any sympathies.

“What were you doing there, Redfield?” Marini growled as he got dressed. “Hiding from your boss?”

Chris didn’t answer, continuing to do his own thing.

Marini had been amicable back when Chris first joined S.T.A.R.S. but he soon grew distant, and Chris couldn’t understand why. He had felt a little guilty at first, trying to remember if he had been disrespectful or careless on any occasion, but he could never find an explanation. Now, he is just happy to revel in the mutual distaste. He’s not shaking hands with such a disgusting man.

Later on, Chris noticed the lascivious stares, the subtle prowling, the way Marini was always trying to get in Wesker’s space and attention. Chris couldn't help but admire how elegantly Wesker thwart or blatantly ignored all these advances, as if he was used to doing it. Making it up to captain of the unit while being an omega, he must have suffered his fair share of stupidity from alphas trying to hit on him.

To say Chris is irked by the whole pretense would be an understatement. He’s furious. His heart starts racing every time he has to talk with Marini, his teeth clenched in an attempt to not give anything away. Chris tries to keep his movements and gestures under control, all of them calculated and slow. It’s none of his business, he knows. Wesker is perfectly capable of putting Marini in his place if he wants to. Likely he’s just avoiding having a conflict with the leader of Bravo team. But Chris doesn’t know how long he can take the asshole marking the place around. Some would tell him that he’s being a stupid alpha, driven by a very misplaced jealousy. Marini has been there much longer than him, and he’s closer to Wesker's age than him. Chris is the actual transgressor, and he should just look the other way and find his own omega if he really wants one.

But they don’t call him stubborn without reason. 

He’s been racking his brain on how to deal with the situation, when the last straw finally breaks. He’s about to leave for the day. Marini’s stuff is still at his desk, but neither he nor the captain have been around for a while. It unsettles him slightly. Since Marini started this charade, seeing Wesker going out of the S.T.A.R.S. office alone spoils his mood, especially if Marini isn’t in view. There’s nothing he can do about it, he knows it. Resigned, he throws on his leather jacket, grabs his keys and his wallet, along with a bag full of some training clothes he needs to wash, and takes his leave.

He exits the S.T.A.R.S. office and comes face to face with what he’s been suspecting. His dejected expression instantly turns into a deep scowl. Marini stands tucked by the window a few meters into the corridor, with his back to Chris. Wesker, who is slightly taller, stands facing the man, arms folded stiffly against his chest. Marini seems to be boring his dear captain with who knows what story, gesturing with his arms and hands in a very effusive explanation. Chris starts to walk towards them, the two abutting the stairs to the main hall. Wesker’s expression is… well, it’s as indifferent as ever, truly, adorned with dark glasses, undisturbed and unreadable.  Chris observes both figures as he approaches, scheming in his head the perfect way to corner Marini outside and clarify a few things with the man. Wesker makes eye contact with Chris, the blond man knitting his brow. Chris is about to say his farewells for the day when the captain speaks, abruptly cutting off Marini's speech.

“Have you handed over the report for the Hudson case, Chris?”

The younger man stares, perplexed. “You said it was fine if I gave it to you tomorrow.”

“Change of plans, I need it now,” Wesker speaks, in a tone that leaves no room for discussion. Still, Chris tries to bend his will a little. This is the perfect chance to give Marini some well-deserved retaliation, he can’t miss out on it or he’ll have to see another amount of shameful attempts unfold in front of his eyes.

“I can’t stay longer today, captain. My sister’s visiting,” Chris lies.

“Oh, is she, Redfield? Well, I hope she can find something to watch on TV tonight because you’re staying here, finishing that report, now ,” Wesker says sternly, pointing to the office door.

Chris frowns again. Wesker’s change of mind is seriously out of character for him, it’s almost as if he had flared what’s going on in Chris’ head. The thought only angers him more. All he wants to do is save his captain a headache and deliver some justice.

“But…” Chris trailed off.

“Are you deaf, Redfield?” Marini says, oozing arrogance as he closes the distance.

Chris can’t believe it. He has to make extra hours now, while Marini gets to humiliate him with his captain’s silent complicity. Chris lowers his head unconsciously, glaring at Marini.

“I know very well that he isn’t,” Wesker cuts in, breaking the tension. “Chris, to my office. Walk ,” he commands. “See you tomorrow, Enrico.”

Chris stomps through the corridor up to Wesker’s private office, certain the blond is on his tail. The young alpha is fuming. He stands in the middle of Wesker’s office, cold and mute, swallowing down all that anger that burns like hot coals. Wesker closes the door behind him, throwing his glasses onto his desk.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Redfield?” he snaps, piercing through him with eyes like ice chips.

“I thought I was going home, but it seems I was wrong,” Chris deadpans, looking past his captain.

“Don’t be cheeky. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. You get yourself in trouble with Marini, I'm throwing you out of here myself.”

Just by his tone, Chris can tell he isn’t joking.

“Captain!” Chris starts speaking indignantly, about to begin an endless rant.

“I don’t want to hear another word, Chris,” Wesker says, raising his voice slightly. “You are not getting yourself in trouble, are we clear?”

“But he’s a moron,” Chris is still careful not to raise his voice, angry as he is.

“I’m the one with the authority to decide that. If he becomes a problem, I’ll deal with it. Just like I’ll deal with you if you disobey my orders.”

Wesker is implacable. He almost seems to enjoy his little display of power, so out of character for the typical omega. On the flip side, Chris needs to keep his much sensitive alpha pride in check in front of his boss. He focuses on his breath, clasping his hands together behind his back, but the scowl that wrinkles his face seems almost impossible to remove. His dark brown eyes glance over at his captain as he tries to reign in his feelings. Wesker approaches him.

“Has it crossed your mind that I may like it?” Wesker purrs, and Chris, fixing his gaze on those blue eyes, tenses up. “Having an alpha drooling after me?”

Chris huffs, skeptical, and looks away. You hide it very well, captain , he wants to say, but he doesn’t. He wouldn’t want to disrespect his captain, lowering himself to Marini’s level.

Wesker grabs his chin without warning, forcing him to make eye contact. “I don’t need anyone to defend me, Chris. I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”

All the rebelliousness and fury vanish from the alpha at the touch and the closeness of his captain. The only thing on Chris’ mind, having an omega this close, is keeping his alpha instincts under control. He can almost feel the warmth of Wesker’s breath against his cheek.

“I know, captain,” Chris answers quietly, suddenly subdued.

“Very well. Please, don’t disappoint me.”

Chris thinks he hears a note of despair in his captain’s voice.

“I won’t, Wesker,” Chris rushes out, wanting to reassure him, although he doesn’t know how he’s going to resist the urge of squeezing Marini’s neck.

“Fine,” Wesker sits down at his desk.

“Can I go home now?” Chris asks.

“No. I know you were lying to me about your sister,” he says, going back to his usual coldness. “Go back to your desk and finish up your work.”

Chris sighs, walking dispiritedly to the door.

“You could at least thank me for helping you get rid of that bore,” he teases before opening.

Wesker laughs, teeth bared.

“You really have a nerve, Redfield,” he remarks to himself, and starts typing on his computer.

Chapter 2: Combat training

Summary:

Chris finally gets his one on one with Marini.

Notes:

IMPORTANT: I updated the tags!!!! Take a look just in case.
*
I'm sorry Enrico, I actually like you, but here you're just a tool in my plot ;_;
Sorry if there are grammar mistakes or weird wording, I'm open to suggestions ^^

After their little argument in Wesker’s office, everything goes back to normal. More so, Chris can feel a subtle air of complicity between them. A hand on his shoulder while they exchange details on an inquiry, soft glances that catch Chris’ eye through the day, or an almost distinctive tone when the captain’s addressing him. It’s hard to keep his head cool around the omega when all he fantasizes about at night is to lie him down over his desk and fill him properly, to elicit needy moans, and to feel the flush naked body beneath his hands. He imagines the shape of his captain, his toned chest and abs, his long legs, perhaps trembling on Chris’ shoulders, or around his hips, squeezing him. A nasty part of him gets off thinking of Wesker squirming, scared and intoxicated by the inescapable pleasure Chris is giving him, his alpha instincts taking over him for a moment. But that isn’t how he wants things to go, to force himself on the omega. He'll win his place rightfully. He wants to be crowned with a laurel wreath like a conqueror, and then receive his much-craved prize.

It’s Friday, which means training, the toughest of the week. For some sort of unnamed reason or magical fate, emergencies are rare on Fridays. No shootings, no drug dealing, no shady business nor underhand deals… Too many people in the streets to be safe. And so their captain puts them through hours of tiring exercises and tests. Endurance, reaction speed, hand-to-hand combat…

They’ve been running for twenty minutes now. The run must be almost over, though Wesker says when they’re allowed to stop. Chris’ shirt is drenched in sweat, as is his hair. Big drops run down his forehead and neck. The sun hitting them mercilessly on their head isn’t helping. Not one fucking cloud in that beautiful blue sky.

He’s in the first row, next to Valentine, who looks too comfortable with the pace and time. She must be used to having a good jog. The woman gives him a smirk from time to time, as she notices his exhaustion. Chris was running slower before, right behind his captain, until the man called him out and order him to go to the front of the group and sweat his shirt a bit. The young man sighed with despair, but obeyed without complaint.

Valentine’s pace is almost punishing, but he keeps up. He tilts his head discreetly from time to time and catches a glimpse of Wesker, a little behind him but far to the side. He looks fresh, like he could go at this for hours. His face has taken on a healthy pink shade and it’s covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Chris steals a glance at the way his shirt sticks to his toned body, letting on the shape of well-sculpted pectorals. Or how the muscles of his lean legs flex with each pace under the short pants. He feels the want. Luckily, he’s too tired to be turned on by the sight.

“Your eyes are gonna fall off, Chris, if you keep staring like that,” Jill’s voice startles him.

“I’m not staring,” he snaps in a low voice.

Jill only sticks out her tongue mocking him.

A few times he gazes at the rest of the group. In the middle, the majority of both teams pile up: Rebecca, Joseph, Brad… They look like they’re about to pass out. In the last place, Barry and Marini make their best effort, far from excellence. Chris feels it’s kind of a payback for what happened the other day. After Chris’ eyes leave Marini with undisguised relish, they meet Wesker’s, who is watching him through his dark glasses. Chris looks abashed for a moment, until the corner of Wesker’s lips turns up, almost snickering. He sighs relieved. His captain isn’t angry at him, perhaps he’s enjoying Marini’s defeat as much as himself. He preens at the complicit gesture and improves his pace in the last minutes of the run.

Wesker finally allows the run to end. They walk for some minutes catching their breaths. Chris notices Wesker is looking up at the old banner hanging from the top of a pole. It has the RPD label on it, but the fabric is completely torn.

“Alright, who’s the outstanding officer who is going to take down that shame of a banner?” Wesker asks the group.

Some of them, Joseph, Brad, and Richards move immediately to the pole, in spite of being in serious need of a break. They try to climb it fruitlessly. Chris observes them, thinking hard to find a way to accomplish the deed. He’s not sure he could climb it either. He feels some eyes on him and looks around casually. Marini is watching him harshly, not far from the pole himself. Chris brushes a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly compelled to succeed. The others give up and move away. Chris studies the pole now that he can see it clearly. He takes a step closer, sure he has found a solution, when Wesker commands them all to go back to the gym area.

Chris gives him an irked look and spreads his arms in frustration. “But, Captain! I was about to-”

“Time’s up. Come on,” Wesker cuts off his complaints.

Chris walks past him with his head low, slightly bothered. He feels a soft touch on his lower back. Wesker’s hand rests there for a moment, following his movement. He steals a glance at his captain as his heartbeat accelerates.

“You’re always so unruly, Chris. Can’t you just do what I say when I say it?” In spite of the severe words, Wesker’s voice is soft.

“But I could’ve-”

“Don’t talk back to me,” Wesker warns him.

“Alright,” Chris replies quickly, his wounded pride churning inside him. “I mean, yes, sir,” he rectifies, finally submitting.

“Better.” A smile plays on Wesker’s lips.

Chris looks ahead. The exchange has left him a bit tense. It’s hard to understand his captain’s desires and expectations. He’s sure Wesker enjoyed seeing Marini struggling all through the run. It might even be the reason he pushed Chris to the front line, so that his triumph over the other alpha would be even bigger. Then there was the snicker and the hand on his back. Why is Wesker bringing him down immediately after? Is he afraid his alpha nature would turn Chris arrogant when spoiled? Can’t Wesker just be open about what he wants from him? Maybe he was and Chris just can’t listen.

It's combat training time. Chris waits next to Valentine, his usual counterpart. They exchange a knowing glance while Wesker explains the aspects on which they should focus today. Fighting with Valentine is a lot of fun. She’s an alpha too, and she’s clever and skilled, even faster than Chris. They’re always challenging each other in an exciting way.

“Valentine, you train with Richard today.” With that curt order, Wesker brings them out of their bubble. He continues naming the pairs. “Redfield, you go with Enrico.”

Chris stands befuddled for some seconds. He can’t tell if this is a bad joke or a golden chance to put Marini in his place. Wesker’s expression doesn’t give anything away, except the fact that there’s nothing negotiable about it. What are his captain’s expectations, pairing him with Marini? Does he want to test if Chris can be a good boy? He tries to keep his face straight as his alpha instincts warm his body in advance of what’s going to happen.

Marini is no joke as an adversary. He is heavier than Chris and can punch really hard if he needs to. Chris will have to be very careful if he doesn’t want to end up with a few painful bruises. The man is practically glaring at him as he takes his position on the mat. He raises his hands in front of his face, getting ready, and a soft smirk appears on his lips. Chris’ jaw tenses and he forces a blank expression. He doesn’t want to play into Marini’s hands. This isn’t about pride or bravado, he tells himself, moving into position and raising his hands. The combat starts.

They move around at first. Marini tries a few blows that Chris dodges easily. They prowl each other for a while. Chris kicks, forcing Marini to retreat but the kick doesn’t connect. He risks getting closer and lands a few blows, others are blocked, and he receives some in payment. One, particularly harmful, hits his side. It angers him and it shows on his face slightly.

“Did I go a bit hard on you? Don’t take it personally,” Marini says, mocking him. “We’re just training.” He chuckles.

Chris makes his decision there and then, the heat of his fury clouding all reason or good judgment. Marini is way off-base if he thinks he can disrespect their captain just because he’s an omega without any consequences. The young man attacks with fervor from that moment on, still wary of Marini’s powerful punches. He’s surprisingly lucid now, his alpha nature sharpening all his sense for the battle. He’s born for this and his body works in his favour. And Marini… Marini was probably born for it too, but years go by. Chris throws a number of blows until he can grab one of Marini’s arms and throw the man over his back on the mat.

“Chris!” Wesker’s angry voice makes its way to Chris, who retreats, leaving Marini time to recover. “What is wrong with you? This is training not a contest, you hear me? Just do what I said.”

Chris looks at him, extremely calm, and nods his head pliantly, as his fist clutch and unclutch restlessly. Whatever you want, Captain . It’s hard to read Wesker with his sunglasses, but his captain’s voice sounds angry enough, almost a growl by the end. Unfortunately, Chris is determined to finish what he started. He knows this is what he ought to do, even if Wesker can’t see it. He hopes the captain will just give him a severe punishment and not kick him out. It’s not like he’s going to kill Marini, only scare him a bit. And anyway, why pair him with Marini so soon if not to give him such a perfect opportunity to settle their differences? If Wesker wants to pretend otherwise, well, that’s his business.

The captain of the Bravo team isn’t smiling anymore. His cheek is swollen from one of Chris’ well-aimed punches, and his eyes are ignited with rage. They throw themselves into the fight rashly. Chris is able to kick Marini a few times. When they get closer, he isn’t sure if he’s avoiding all of the other’s punches or if his wrath has made him numb to the pain. He grabs Marini by the shoulders and lands his knee into the man’s ribs, provoking a groan of pain.

“CHRIS?! What the hell?!” Wesker shouts again, walking furiously towards them.

“It’s alright,” Marini says in a raspy voice, to Chris’ surprise. “It’s okay, Albert,” the man looks Chris directly in the eyes as he drops the captain’s first name with ease. “The kid just got a little carried away, that’s all.”

Wesker seems to back off at that, but he sends Chris one last silent warning, pointing a finger at him. Chris doesn’t speak, he bows his head and holds his gaze stubbornly until Wesker turns to watch the entire class and not only them. He cleans some sweat off his face with the back of his forearm and tries to slow his breathing. It’s hard for him to speak at the moment, like something’s gotten hold of him. His heart is racing like crazy, beating in his ears. He won’t be able to shake it off until Marini is out of sight.

One more round. Marini looks tired beyond belief, his legs wobbling a bit but he manages to stay up and actually dodge some punches. “You should retire while you can,” Chris manages to whisper through clenched teeth. He hopes his glare makes the old man understand what he’s talking about.

“Oh, you think because you’re young you can do whatever you want, don’t you? Well, I’m sorry to break it to you like this, kid, but you’re stepping on my territory.”

Chris starts closing in on the man, throwing some kicks and blows. The other takes it well, and even returns some of them.

“Your act is disgusting,” Chris hisses, brimming with fury.

“Who do you think you are?” Marini retorts with equal fierceness. “Don’t stick your nose in other people’s business, kiddo.”

Chris can’t hold it back anymore. It’s the patronizing that makes him explode. He starts showering Marini again with hits, one after another. The man retreats but Chris won’t let him escape. He charges his punches harder each time, for all the times he has seen the old man shamelessly prowling on his captain, imposing his presence, uttering disrespectful words while thinking no one’s hearing it. He thinks he hears his captain’s voice shouting, but he ignores it.  One of Chris’ blows hits Marini’s face bluntly, making him stumble backwards. The old man lifts his hands to his nose and blood stains them abundantly.

“CHRIS, THAT’S ENOUGH!” Wesker cries out at the top of his lungs.

Chris finally recedes. His captain steadies Marini before turning to him, snarling. He grabs him harshly by the shoulder before pushing him towards the training field. “You go back to the running tracks, and don’t come back until you’ve given some thought to what you’ve just done. Then I’ll decide what I will do with you.”

Chris obeys without a word.

Notes:

Next chapter we'll have some smut, I promise!

It's not becoming much of an omegaverse, sorry, but I guess there's a little something there 😅

Chapter 3: Laurel crown

Notes:

FINALLY, AFTER 2 YEARS, I've finished this.

I'm so sorry. You know the story, another fandom took over, and then life, work...
But now I'm so happy that I've managed to write something that actually fits with the original idea.

So this is my only omegaverse story, sort of an experiment that I took on at the moment. It's been a bit hard to go back into that state of mind, so I'm afraid there isn't much of omegaverse literacy besides the basic.
I'm sorry if this ending is not what you expected, or you think it lacks something, or so. I really just want to finish this little story, and I'm quite satisfied with what I wrote, so I hope you can enjoy it as well. ;)

This part isn't betaread, and I should have waited until tomorrow and do a final edit with calm and tranquility, but I couldn't wait! I needed to put it out NOW. I'll probably give it a reread in the following week.

Chris opens the double door roughly and enters the training hall back from the running tracks. He’s drenched in sweat, and his skin is almost feverish and reddened. He spots Wesker in a side of the room, apparently making some notes and arranging training materials ― unlikely; he’s only passing time while he waits for Chris. The blond turns to him in silence, looking relaxed, his sunglasses in place as usual.

Then I’ll decide what I will do with you. The young man remembers his captain’s last words, and wonders briefly if there’s going to be another string of admonishments, but he barely acknowledges the possibility. He can’t have any more of it or he might lose his temper.

It’s not his intention but his feet almost stomp on each step as he walks towards his captain, like his body is loaded with molten iron. Not a pinch of regret shows in his stance or his manners, his head high and proud as it should. He has done what he had to do, and no one, not even Wesker firing him, will change his mind. As he passes by his captain, he hands the ruined flag over (what he asked for), made into a messy ball in his hand, and he practically smashes it against the other’s chest with how indignant he is.

“Here’s your flag. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower.”

His voice isn’t loud nor is his tone openly angry, but he doesn’t sound polite or regretful and he knows this. He’s fed up with Wesker’s excessive indulgence towards Marini, hindering every attempt Chris could make to stop him. But he doesn’t want to argue, it’d be simply impossible with Wesker. He’ll swallow his ire down, go home, try to think of something else, and whatever happens will be right.

As he enters the changing room he still feels like he’s burning inside. His alpha nature is glowing, gloating over the thrilling clash with Marini, the satisfying victory, and asks hungrily for more. It needs more conquests, more prizes.

As he’s taking off his shoes and shirt, Chris hears the door of the locker room opening, and sees Wesker walking inside. The fire inside of him flickers, stirred, allured. He goes on with his task in silence, trying to remain calm. The blond walks towards him unhurried, while he checks the old flag in his hands.

“You had to do it, didn’t you?” Wesker says, and there’s the ghost of a sly smile on his lips. The man leaves the shreds of the banner carefully on a counter.

Chris stays silent, attentive. Wesker’s manners and expression are somewhat baffling. The tall man moves smoothly and slowly across the space, with a grace and a lightness he has never displayed before in front of Chris. A martial pace and heavy, stiff steps are the usual attributes of his movements, much more in consonance with his squared back and strong arms. Nevertheless, the vain and relaxed motions he’s sports now highlight the slim shape of his figure, the narrowness of his waist and the perfect balance of his athletic body. Chris has never consciously noticed this gracefulness before, and it’s keeping his eyes hanging on his captain’s every move, like those of a hunter after his prey.

“Did you spare a moment to even think about my warning or did you just decide on breaking Marini right away?”

Wesker stops in front of him, his voice soft now, silky, barely a step above a whisper. The young alpha remains silent and still, gritting his teeth as the soft scent of pheromones fills his nostrils. He has no answer so he keeps his head high, defiant. He truly has nothing to say, excuses or apologies feel all unnecessary or absurd.

Wesker’s natural smell, perhaps intensified after the exercise session, intoxicates him more with every second they stay close. It’s taking every ounce of his will to restrain his instincts, yet knowing that he’s doing it for this man that he admires beyond measure it’s enough payback, and it keeps the fire inside him well fed and sated.

The older man removes his dark glasses and throws them on the wooden bench near them, in a careless gesture. Maybe Chris' stubborn silence is making him tired. The brunet studies his captain’s elusive eyes, of a pale blue that seem to spark as they look over him as well. There isn’t anger or tediousness in them, a much different feeling swarms in those precious orbs that look back intently. The young alpha, as still as a stone, perceives the soft caress of fingers on his jaw.

“That look on your face when I warned you the first time. There it was, the alpha finally unveiled. And it should have been aggressive, scary, I expected. Like every other alpha that has crossed my path. But it wasn’t, not to me. You weren’t angry at me.”

It kindles the young man’s pride, provoking his heart to rush. “No, captain,” he immediately confirms, as Wesker’s light touch does wonders on him. Never at you, sir . 

“Like you were merely about to follow unspoken orders instead of openly disobey,” Wesker laughed softly. “Captivating.”

Chris gulps before daring to finally speak again. “Wil… Will you fire me?”

Wesker doesn’t repress a sound laugh, his white teeth showing sharp and perfect. He strolls past Chris a few steps, giving him a sly look. The brunet turns on his heels to not lose sight of his captain.

Dislodging their eyes the minimum possible, he starts peeling off every piece of clothing. First his blue shirt, revealing toned muscles which Chris can’t stop assessing. The blond man’s abs flex as he hunches and looks down to undo his pants.

The young alpha practically drools as he watches the show coming undone in front of him. His body warms up. It’s evident that Wesker knows perfectly well the effect he’s provoking; now, to what purpose, if torture or reward, that is still unknown to Chris.

His captain’s thin lips are set on a soft smile, his tongue coming out between them to wet them under Chris’ scrupulous observation. The brunet can feel his pulse rising as the older man lets the pants fall down his legs, underwear going down with them. Chris gazes unabashed at the white smooth skin of his thighs and glutes, perfectly sculpted and unblemished while the last piece of clothing, the socks, is being removed. He’s like one of those white statues displayed in museums.

The man gives him one last enticing look with charming blue eyes and a dangerous smile before he turns in the direction of the showers, leaving his clothes a mess on the floor.

Chris is frozen in his spot, still mesmerized by the blond’s show. It’s the first time that he sees his captain fully naked, the man always avoiding showering with all of them. The brunet always assumed there were some private changing rooms for higher ranks. It shouldn’t surprise him, the fit complexion nor the strong attraction, when he’s already more than half infatuated with the man. But the truth is that it completely surpasses his fantasies. The smoothness of his skin, the lack of wrinkles or spots, and the perfect roundness in the perfect places… It leaves him breathless standing in the middle of the empty lockers room.

Suddenly his instincts kick in violently, like a creature charging against a door, possessed by the pheromones the omega has left floating in the air; like crumbs that show the way.

What happens in the next minutes is veiled by a thick mist, figuratively and literally too. Chris can’t recall exactly how he finished undressing, or walked the distance to the shower stalls. Wesker’s foxy expression at the sight of him is a blurred spot in his memory, but it’s loaded with electricity. Took you long enough, alpha . A cocky smile. This omega acts like he’s wearing a fucking crown, but it doesn’t daunt Chris in the slightest. On the contrary, it turns him on more.

Chris is thoughtful and determined, gentle even, as his nature relishes how gladly and smoothly Wesker bends to his will, like a good omega when the alpha is worthy. 

The young alpha knows how to spoil this omega, without offending his vanity. His hand rests kindly over the other’s chest, testing the waters. His fingers brush playfully over the nipples, and he feels the heaving under his touch. Blue eyes, framed by fair blond strands of hair on a perfect face, incite him to go further, and Chris’ hand travels up to caress the omega’s sensitive glands on the side of the neck. The creature gasps. A few more touches and the tall man looks open and ready.

It’s evident that Wesker is making an effort to stay cool and calm through the scene, but he isn’t completely fond of giving up control. Still he appears lustful and eager. 

The young alpha keeps his chosen treat trapped against the corner, mindful of every reaction. The hot water still falls next to them, heating the atmosphere and sprinkling them slightly. He’s holding up one of Wesker’s strong legs and pants as he thrust in, slowly warming him up. His other hand rests on the fresh tile wall, next to the blond man’s body, restraining his space.

Wesker clings on to him, hands gripping his pointman’s shoulders lustfully. For the last minutes, he’s been panting very softly but his mouth is open in an expression of delight. He runs his hand over Chris’ damp hair from time to time, teasing dominance and control. The alpha deters him with one dark look. 

Chris keeps their bodies close, as close as possible, so he can assault his captain’s mouth at ease. Sometimes he brushes his nose against the man’s neck, inhaling more of his scent. He checks his captain’s reactions as he is close to a dangerous and sensitive part of him. The blond stays relaxed; he trusts the alpha, it seems. Chris is so mellowed by the fantasy of biting him, it almost makes him come to think about it. But it’s too soon. This impulse is just a basic instinct, empty of meaning. He allows himself to lick it though, always checking his captain’s reaction.

The blond man seems to shiver from head to toe under the treatment, at least out a weak sound.

“Chris,” he says, hoarse, and the sound of a warning rings in the word.

“I know, captain,” the young man says, his voice coming out sweet and dutiful in spite of the blaze of lust he holds inside. “I won’t bite.” He licks again as a form of apology and reassurance.

Wesker trembles again, but he’s smiling now. Thin lips retract to show some strangely acute teeth that remind of a shark.

“My faithful pointman,” the older man mumbles with a pant, amused and delighted. “All vibrant determination and foolish courage.”

There’s a friendly mock.

“No, not foolish,” Chris says, as he tries to improve his angle and rhythm, and observes Wesker’s expressions for clues of his feelings. “You just need to have a little faith, captain.”

Suddenly, Wesker’s face relaxes, as his dreamy eyes try to focus on Chris. He seems to beckon him closer even, if it’s at all possible. “Is that so, Chris?” The young alpha understands, and he surrounds his captain’s waist with his free arm, supporting him without faltering. Color blooms in the pale man’s face in a matter of seconds, and his look seems lost in the studying of Chris visage.

“Those are beautiful brown eyes, Chris,” Wesker says, like he’s bewitched. “I feel like I could read the world in them. That world that I’ve always thought was mean, worthless…” 

“No, captain,” Chris says immediately, feeling how they’re breaths and whispers are entangling together. “I’ll take care of you.”

His body asks him for a faster pace. He needs it, and he can feel his captain’s thirst as well, in the grasping of his hands over Chris' body. It’s delicious, how eager and brazenly he wants it.

Wesker starts to moan and bites his lower lip, fixing his eyes on Chris’ brown mirrors. For the first time, he looks truly careless and relaxed, undone.

“Is there nothing I can’t ask of you?” he says, fully enjoying Chris’ adoration.

“No,” the young man answers confidently. “I’d do anything for you, captain.”

The smile on Wesker’s face as he rides the throws of his explosive climax is the prize Chris has been striving for, without knowing it at all. The sight and the rush it gives him, pushes him over the top as well and he can feel his warm seed filling his omega’s insides. The knot sits in and it’s the greatest feeling, to have this perfect being in his arms, possessed and owned for a few minutes.

Wesker rests his head against the fresh wall of tiles, high with hormones, and Chris observes in silence, sated and fulfilled. This is what glory must feel like.

Chris keeps them both stable against the wall, feeling Wesker’s legs a bit more feeble than before. How he wishes they were in his flat perhaps right now, or in a luxurious hotel room, and he would lay his omega's perfect body on top of soft fresh sheets and let him rest.

He easily forgets this is his captain he’s talking about. But he isn’t now. No, now Chris is a proud and complete alpha with a precious omega in his arms.

Notes:

Sorry about typos or mistakes =(

 

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Notes:

That's it for now, I hope you like it and that you're intrigued to know how this ends. ^^
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