Categories > Games > Resident Evil > A Moment in the Sun
A Moment in the Sun
0 ReviewsWesker is leaving Umbrella, but what is he really leaving behind? Slash story, featuring Albert Wesker and William Birkin.
Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil or its characters.
- A Moment in the Sun -
There was no turning back now. He was preparing to leave his job in the labs, going down a path that would eventually mean leaving Umbrella behind, along with his humanity, his acquaintances, and everything else of his old life. However...
Wesker was surprised, and almost annoyed, to find that he had a dull ache in his heart as he packed his bags. Why was this happening now, of all times?
He hadn't had any doubts before about what he was doing; he knew that his employers would turn on him soon, just as they had turned on all the others who had stayed in the corporation too long. And, he knew that he could make quite a bit of money by selling himself to their rivals. He had stayed detached throughout his career; he had nothing that he would regret leaving behind. And yet...
He stood in front of his open suitcase, trying to pinpoint the cause of his discomfort. He kept his emotions in complete control, didn't he? How could he not know what the problem was? Had he, while blocking his emotions, lost his ability to read them?
Then it hit him: the image of William Birkin, with dark circles under his eyes from overwork. Birkin, a smile on his face when he succeeded in his first experiment.
Of all the employees at Umbrella, he was the only one Wesker had ever truly respected. Respected... and perhaps, more. Yes, now that he thought about it, it was more than respect for a genius. Birkin was the closest thing to a friend that Wesker had.
Well, so what? Wesker asked himself, shutting his suitcase. What would Birkin do for him in the long run? Nothing. Birkin was looking out for himself, as was everyone else. And, having friends didn't get you immeasurable wealth and power.
Wesker picked up his luggage and headed for the door. But he paused again with his hand on the knob. He knew this would bother him for a while if he didn't do something now. A little good-bye wouldn't hurt, could it?
.o.
Wesker knocked on the door and waited.
He knew where Birkin lived only because he had visited a few times for work. Normally, Birkin wouldn't be home at all; he was too busy on his latest creation. Lately, he'd been working through one or both days on the weekend. But even that workaholic knew that he'd collapse if he kept working at this pace; thus, he was taking the day off.
Birkin opened the door, wearing a dress shirt and a pair of khakis, along with an expression of mild surprise.
"Albert?" was all he said.
"Hello, William," Wesker said with a small smile.
They stood staring at each other for a few seconds before Birkin cleared his throat.
"Would you like to come in?"
Wesker nodded and entered. Birkin closed the door behind him, and the two of them walked down the hall, into the living room. Sunlight spilled through the large windows, and the couch that Wesker sat on was warm from it. It felt cozy, despite the sparse furniture.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Birkin asked, sitting in a nearby chair.
"I'm going to be the Captain of the STARS Alpha Team. I will no longer be working alongside you."
Birkin nodded. "So I heard. I suppose it was time for you to move on, but I will miss your brilliant mind in the laboratory."
"And I'll miss yours. I'm sure I'll be forced to work with a bunch of incompetent fools at the RPD," Wesker said.
Birkin chuckled. "I am inclined to agree with you. By the way, would you like a drink?"
"Sure," Wesker replied, and Birkin stood, disappearing into the kitchen.
Wesker looked around the room, beginning to relax. It was quite a large house for only three people, but of course Birkin could afford it. He wondered if the wife and daughter were home, but he doubted it. Surely, he would hear something if they were.
Birkin walked back in, carrying two glasses of white wine. He handed one to Wesker and took a seat, sipping from his own glass.
Wesker thanked him. They each drank their wine in silence, enjoying each others company in their own way. Once they finished their drinks, Birkin took both their glasses and walked into the kitchen, and then he came back in and sat down.
"William," Wesker started. Birkin looked at him, waiting. "I came here simply to say: I've enjoyed working with you. You've become something like a friend to me, and I have a great deal of respect for you."
Wesker got up to leave, since he couldn't think of anything else to say, and he didn't want to linger. Birkin walked him to the door and opened it for him. Wesker hesitated in the doorway. This visit hadn't alleviated his feelings at all; if anything, they had intensified. He looked back at Birkin, who was staring at him.
What Wesker wanted to do now seemed absurd. Birkin couldn't be... Hell, Wesker wasn't even... But then, why...?
He was never going to see Birkin again, anyway. What was there to lose?
Wesker turned to face Birkin and raised his hand slowly to the other man's chin. He suspected that the flash of confusion in the Birkin's gray eyes was mirrored in his own. He turned Birkin's face up, and their lips met. It was a simple kiss, their lips barely touching, but Wesker felt exhilarated as the other man's eyes widened.
Birkin stepped back, blushing a little. Wesker waited for something - an angry shout, a sound of disgust, perhaps even a blow to the face. Instead, Birkin went around him and closed the front door. His hand dropped to his side as he slowly turned back towards Wesker, his head bowed.
"I am married, Albert. I have a child," the slightly younger man said.
"And after today, I'll never see you again."
They both knew that this couldn't possibly lead to anything. But neither of them cared right now.
Wesker walked forward and embraced the other man. They then shared a fiercer, longer kiss. Birkin slipped his hands under Wesker's shirt, sliding his hands along the older man's sides and back, feeling the well-toned muscle under the smooth skin. Wesker ran a hand over Birkin's hair, and then brushed his thumb down the jaw line. Usually, Birkin's hair wasn't quite clean, nor was his face freshly shaven, but today was his day off. Wesker pushed Birkin back gently until he was up against the door.
After a minute, their lips broke contact, and Wesker started kissing and nipping his way down Birkin's neck. Birkin shivered from the light touches while he unbuttoned his shirt; he shook it off, letting it fall to the floor.
"Annette and Sherry will not be home for at least two more hours," he mentioned breathlessly. Wesker smiled and picked the smaller man up, and then he carried him into the living room. He laid Birkin on the warm, sun-lit couch, as their lips met for a third time.
- A Moment in the Sun -
There was no turning back now. He was preparing to leave his job in the labs, going down a path that would eventually mean leaving Umbrella behind, along with his humanity, his acquaintances, and everything else of his old life. However...
Wesker was surprised, and almost annoyed, to find that he had a dull ache in his heart as he packed his bags. Why was this happening now, of all times?
He hadn't had any doubts before about what he was doing; he knew that his employers would turn on him soon, just as they had turned on all the others who had stayed in the corporation too long. And, he knew that he could make quite a bit of money by selling himself to their rivals. He had stayed detached throughout his career; he had nothing that he would regret leaving behind. And yet...
He stood in front of his open suitcase, trying to pinpoint the cause of his discomfort. He kept his emotions in complete control, didn't he? How could he not know what the problem was? Had he, while blocking his emotions, lost his ability to read them?
Then it hit him: the image of William Birkin, with dark circles under his eyes from overwork. Birkin, a smile on his face when he succeeded in his first experiment.
Of all the employees at Umbrella, he was the only one Wesker had ever truly respected. Respected... and perhaps, more. Yes, now that he thought about it, it was more than respect for a genius. Birkin was the closest thing to a friend that Wesker had.
Well, so what? Wesker asked himself, shutting his suitcase. What would Birkin do for him in the long run? Nothing. Birkin was looking out for himself, as was everyone else. And, having friends didn't get you immeasurable wealth and power.
Wesker picked up his luggage and headed for the door. But he paused again with his hand on the knob. He knew this would bother him for a while if he didn't do something now. A little good-bye wouldn't hurt, could it?
.o.
Wesker knocked on the door and waited.
He knew where Birkin lived only because he had visited a few times for work. Normally, Birkin wouldn't be home at all; he was too busy on his latest creation. Lately, he'd been working through one or both days on the weekend. But even that workaholic knew that he'd collapse if he kept working at this pace; thus, he was taking the day off.
Birkin opened the door, wearing a dress shirt and a pair of khakis, along with an expression of mild surprise.
"Albert?" was all he said.
"Hello, William," Wesker said with a small smile.
They stood staring at each other for a few seconds before Birkin cleared his throat.
"Would you like to come in?"
Wesker nodded and entered. Birkin closed the door behind him, and the two of them walked down the hall, into the living room. Sunlight spilled through the large windows, and the couch that Wesker sat on was warm from it. It felt cozy, despite the sparse furniture.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Birkin asked, sitting in a nearby chair.
"I'm going to be the Captain of the STARS Alpha Team. I will no longer be working alongside you."
Birkin nodded. "So I heard. I suppose it was time for you to move on, but I will miss your brilliant mind in the laboratory."
"And I'll miss yours. I'm sure I'll be forced to work with a bunch of incompetent fools at the RPD," Wesker said.
Birkin chuckled. "I am inclined to agree with you. By the way, would you like a drink?"
"Sure," Wesker replied, and Birkin stood, disappearing into the kitchen.
Wesker looked around the room, beginning to relax. It was quite a large house for only three people, but of course Birkin could afford it. He wondered if the wife and daughter were home, but he doubted it. Surely, he would hear something if they were.
Birkin walked back in, carrying two glasses of white wine. He handed one to Wesker and took a seat, sipping from his own glass.
Wesker thanked him. They each drank their wine in silence, enjoying each others company in their own way. Once they finished their drinks, Birkin took both their glasses and walked into the kitchen, and then he came back in and sat down.
"William," Wesker started. Birkin looked at him, waiting. "I came here simply to say: I've enjoyed working with you. You've become something like a friend to me, and I have a great deal of respect for you."
Wesker got up to leave, since he couldn't think of anything else to say, and he didn't want to linger. Birkin walked him to the door and opened it for him. Wesker hesitated in the doorway. This visit hadn't alleviated his feelings at all; if anything, they had intensified. He looked back at Birkin, who was staring at him.
What Wesker wanted to do now seemed absurd. Birkin couldn't be... Hell, Wesker wasn't even... But then, why...?
He was never going to see Birkin again, anyway. What was there to lose?
Wesker turned to face Birkin and raised his hand slowly to the other man's chin. He suspected that the flash of confusion in the Birkin's gray eyes was mirrored in his own. He turned Birkin's face up, and their lips met. It was a simple kiss, their lips barely touching, but Wesker felt exhilarated as the other man's eyes widened.
Birkin stepped back, blushing a little. Wesker waited for something - an angry shout, a sound of disgust, perhaps even a blow to the face. Instead, Birkin went around him and closed the front door. His hand dropped to his side as he slowly turned back towards Wesker, his head bowed.
"I am married, Albert. I have a child," the slightly younger man said.
"And after today, I'll never see you again."
They both knew that this couldn't possibly lead to anything. But neither of them cared right now.
Wesker walked forward and embraced the other man. They then shared a fiercer, longer kiss. Birkin slipped his hands under Wesker's shirt, sliding his hands along the older man's sides and back, feeling the well-toned muscle under the smooth skin. Wesker ran a hand over Birkin's hair, and then brushed his thumb down the jaw line. Usually, Birkin's hair wasn't quite clean, nor was his face freshly shaven, but today was his day off. Wesker pushed Birkin back gently until he was up against the door.
After a minute, their lips broke contact, and Wesker started kissing and nipping his way down Birkin's neck. Birkin shivered from the light touches while he unbuttoned his shirt; he shook it off, letting it fall to the floor.
"Annette and Sherry will not be home for at least two more hours," he mentioned breathlessly. Wesker smiled and picked the smaller man up, and then he carried him into the living room. He laid Birkin on the warm, sun-lit couch, as their lips met for a third time.
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