He pulls Leon flush and covers him in kisses as far as he can reach; between one kiss and another, there’s the mumble of, 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, as well somewhere. It’s rounded off with a proper kiss he steals from the younger’s lips.
Chris’ gaze momentarily tears away to follow a dissipating cloud of smoke, a subtle twitch to the corners of his lips: he attempts to smother the threatening smile further by going for another drag, ...
Chris jerks his chin free, but instead of withdrawing, raises a hand to curl fingers around Wesker’s wrist and keep his hand high: he leans in and a kiss is ghosted right against Wesker’s palm, almost too gentle in comparison to the firm hold.
Then, he withdraws for good ...
... and returns the cigarette between his lips for a slow, deep drag. ‘I can see how it’s been going nowhere,’ he says. ‘And how it’s just physical for you.’
It’s the tiny little things that keep him around: some days they aren’t enough, other days almost too much, ...
The question he’s met with comes with a sliver of irritation, harsh in contrast to the surge of heat the touch prompted. He probably should have seen it coming, and yet. ‘What do you want to hear,’ he asks, ...
... and now has no interest in trying again: all he wants is a chance even if the result would be the same.
Still, Wesker already robbed them of the ease and now it’s for him to decide whether he wants to draw a confession out of Chris by any means necessary ...
Chris barely recovers from that rollercoaster of emotions: he lights a cigarette.
‘Other people just say ‘I love you’. You could try it sometime.’
Oh, 𝘰𝘩. The pistol can stay then - he worried Leon might just shovel the bacon in and then leave already.
He ghosts a smooch against Leon’s crown and then steals a piece of it.


