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01 July 2009 @ 11:57 pm
Warning: Contains Content  

Last night I very nearly finished up my current Albus/Gellert story, wrote a bit of a random fic that just came to mind... and then in the morning (read: afternoon), this happened. I got up and wrote it in one session, then had a break, and now I shall inflict it on you all. I've written a porny fic for a lurked-in fandom on a whim, and all that in the span of maybe twelve hours. Damn, that felt good. Also, notice the appropriate icon.

I guess the notes are tedious, but do read them. At least, if you're planning to read the fic.

I'm really not sure how I feel about it. It's my perception of two characters on whom there isn't a whole lot of material in comparison to others, so it may not work for everyone. It could be a brilliant little snapshot. Or maybe the entire thing is CRACK! You decide, reader. Behold!

Title: The Properties of Leeches
Fandom: Resident Evil games
Pairing: William Birkin/Albert Wesker (should I alphabetize them by their first or last names?)
Summary: Birkin is stressed. Wesker is not one to simply watch. As his old friend moves closer and closer to a nervous breakdown, some not quite past affections surge yet again into the light. Or was it darkness?

Rating: NSFW (I don't think it's that graphic, but it's the first fic I'm locking as having "explicit adult content" just to be on the safe side. I have no idea how many virgin eyes are browsing my still public entries, after all. It also contains the kind of sex I barely ever write about anymore, i.e. penetrative, so if you're not for that, look elsewhere. I can't help it, Wesker just waltzed into my head and said, "Hey you, I want to fuck Birkin, so make it happen. Now." He's Albert effin' Wesker - who am I to refuse?)
Word Count: ~1,700

Notes on title: It's technically a pun on Umbrella's research, but you can take it just metaphorically. In fact, I recommend it. XD (There are a few more words that will have additional meaning if you're familiar with the games, but they're not crucial for making sense of the story. Have fun spotting them.)
Notes on timeline: I hope I haven't overlooked anything and the timeline makes sense even under scrutiny. Honestly, this canon is rambling. And although I won't excuse myself by it, Capcom's Wesker-related plotholes in an epic game series > my possible plotholes in one ficlet. Sometimes I went with assumptions as to what happened when and in what succession since I couldn't find where it would say one way or the other. Feel free to call me on anything of the sort if you have a reason why.
Notes on characterization: Yes, Wesker actually cares about Birkin if you ask me. Shocking! It also depends on the era - I'd say that RE5!Wesker would hardly be as considerate as UmbrellaResearcher!Wesker to anyone. Also, this is in third person but from Wesker's POV, and Wesker seems to hold the majority of people in default contempt, which might occasionally show (see: the entire conflict of RE5). I mention this because no, I wouldn't go around dismissively calling someone "that [insert name] person" and so on, but Wesker just might. He's suave, but not necessarily politically correct.
NWSF notes on Wesker's pocket: I don't actually think he carries condoms around because he thinks, "Hey, I might do Birkin today, must be prepared!" That would be funny but a bit desperate. But I wouldn't be surprised if he carried them because, aside from the fact that fandom seems to ignore real-life dangers most of the time, 1) I can't imagine Wesker as a pure blushing maiden, sorry, and 2) I can't imagine Wesker as someone who compromises his health and ability. (Unless the T-Virus or the super special genes - which is it, Capcom? Or is it both?! - grants him magic immunity to everything as well. Though the T would be anachronistic here anyway.) The point is, I don't believe he'd risk landing himself in some commonplace disease he could have prevented. He might conduct his own death, but he needs his body in top shape. He's saving himself for Uroboros. XD
Notes on "What the hell is this fandom, dude? Since when do you write in it?": Mwahaha and good night.

For Your Convenience: A VISUAL AID! (Wesker = the one sitting at the desk in the beginning; Birkin = the one standing next to him; the video = don't ask and enjoy.)

And finally...

Disclaimer: Resident Evil belongs to Capcom. I make no profit and intend no copyright infringement.


The Properties of Leeches

Albert Wesker stands by the window, using the nature as a backdrop for his thoughts. The room is silent, but there are footsteps drifting from the corridor beyond, progressing quickly towards him. When the door swings open, he has already expected it.

“Hello, William,” he greets the young man calmly, surveying him through his sunglasses. “Congratulations on your engagement.” Still calm, noncommittal.

“Thank you.” The newcomer averts his eyes, as though he expected more than that, and that “more” possibly on the side of a swift verbal lashing. “So . . . this is it?”

“I suppose,” Wesker intones, “it must be if you say so.” He leaves the “William” to himself this time. They can be Wesker and Birkin now.

Now Birkin looks distinctly uncomfortable. “Albert, I value your friendship. I do think, however, that we should make it just that.”

Wesker takes off his glasses and gives him an unobstructed look. “Yes. Is there anything else I should be aware of at this time?”

To that, Birkin is suddenly in a hurry. They shake hands, and before long Wesker is alone in the room again. The large window is awash in sunlight. The next thing he sees is a young couple embracing down below, oddly reminiscent of a snapshot out of some catalogue. It’s starting to show that the woman is pregnant.

“Oh, Birkin,” Wesker sighs wearily. “You idiot.”


There are many hang-ups with their most extensive project. In a business like theirs, determined to do their best though they are, there is always a chance of difficulties arising—hitting a block with the research, an unexpected outbreak, unpredictable reactions of test subjects and, last but not least, the intricacies of background politics and rivalries. Wesker has experience with all of them, although his resolve not to waste his potential or his time mostly prevents him from dwelling on past hardships. On the whole, he is the more collected half of the illustrious researcher duo Wesker—Birkin.

His partner, on the other hand, has a brilliant mind but suffers from being unstable. Wesker has watched him stumble as one problem after another hit their lengthy, top secret T-Virus project in the past few weeks: first Birkin’s patience, then his efficiency and finally his nerves began to crumble under the pressure. It was not the first time outside circumstances affected him so greatly. No use reminding the fool that more problems than usual could only be expected on such an exhausting task as they were pursuing. No use telling him, either, that he was doing his part with dedication as always and whatever issues there were would have been just as out of his control if he pushed himself past his limit, which Wesker suspected would happen sooner or later. He has refrained from saying this, but a semblance of worry gradually overcame him too, causing further needless distraction. And Birkin would hardly take more strain. Just the day before he became so agitated that he waved a jar with test substance about carelessly, dropped it, and they were both grateful for having worked in the spare lab wearing protective gear before personnel arrived to sanitize the contaminated area. The incident itself was minor enough, but Wesker was sure it gave Birkin yet another reason to find himself out of sorts without asking the man a single word afterwards.

Night has blanketed the facility, and now almost everyone has left to sleep. Except for Birkin, of course. His coat folded over the back of his chair, he stares at the computer screen as if in trance, muttering sounds that could be either calculations or curses under his breath. His fingers are hammering on the keyboard, his arms almost willfully steady, and his hunched figure looks so wound up that any minute it could snap. This is the sight that greets Wesker as he enters the main lab.


Indeed, the seated body springs up with a start. He gives Wesker a look that seems positively uncomprehending at first, then staggers back in relief at the familiar face. “Do you need anything?” he manages at last.

“I could ask you the same question,” Wesker says without malice. He determines this might not be such an unfitting time to use first names, what with them being alone with their work and himself trying to express concern. “Leave it alone, William. Your new result sheets won’t arrive until morning, but I am sure that if you continue, there will be no one here to process them but the computer. Unless you smash it in frustration before it has a chance to, that is.”

It almost seems Birkin might listen, but then he turns to the screen again, though he does not go as far as to sit back down and recommence typing. Wesker is pleasantly surprised he hasn’t shot back a venomous retort as he has been wont to do since the project started chipping off his sanity piece by piece. Although, if Wesker is honest with himself, Birkin’s uncharacteristic tiredness must be stemming not from weeks, but years of passionate effort with hardly a moment’s rest. It must have built up for ages.

“When have you last seen your wife and daughter?” Wesker asks, not having any particular stance on Birkin’s silly family. Of course it would have ended this way. Birkin would never give priority to affection before work, even if it were genuine, and domestic happiness is apparently one best digested in small quantities for him. Wesker suspected as much at the start and is even more convinced now. Unlike Birkin, however, he accepts that he was never meant for ordinary life.

“I haven’t been— it doesn’t matter.” The hesitation is audible in his voice, but Wesker leaves it without comment. Instead, he approaches the standing figure and, driven by some old sentiment, rests his hand on Birkin’s shoulder. No resistance.

“You’re tense,” Wesker remarks but lingers at an arm’s length. “Do you want me to—”

He halts mid-sentence when Birkin suddenly leans back against him with a sigh. “I was going to ask if you wanted a massage,” Wesker says with some amusement. “Birkin, you’re acting worse than when we first met. Don’t tell me all that effort was for nothing.”

To his pleasure, Birkin actually chuckles. Wesker isn’t sure what he’s planning to do reaching for his free hand as well, but is too curious to avoid it. Birkin merely takes and holds it at a slightly uncomfortable angle. Wesker is suddenly aware of his breathing and the other’s warmth against his chest.

“Albert, sometimes I think I have it all wrong. I was happier when we . . .” His words trail off, but his body tenses even more and then he turns around and his hands are on Wesker’s back and tug free his shirt and their hips grind together as if in completion of the sentence.

Wesker is surprised, to say the least, but not against it. In a sense, it proves him correct. He stands steady against Birkin’s near frenzied attempts, waiting for an opening as though in close combat, until he manages to draw Birkin’s face to his and kiss him. He has never experienced his old acquaintance so needy.

“You’re still tense,” he says, but Birkin all but drags him towards the table. There he spins around and dutifully but quickly sweeps the files aside; nothing can even begin to endanger the precious research. Wesker has to smirk at that, although he would have done the same. He tightens his grip around the other’s waist before Birkin has a chance to face him. They stay like this for several long moments, bodies swaying in the beginning of a familiar rhythm.

“You better not start something you can’t finish,” Birkin almost growls. It’s as much of a verbal invitation as anyone’s going to get from him, Wesker knows.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Stepping back for a moment, he searches his trousers for the packet of condoms. When they were young and as innocent as either of them could get, he was reckless enough not to bother, but since Birkin’s involvement with that Annette woman, Wesker has no reason to give him different treatment from anybody else. And indeed there were others after William.

They remember each other. Their shared silhouette flickers in the glow of the screens, imprinted on the darkened room by the light of the “EXIT” signs. Their voices are equally subdued, a ragged mixture of sighs and sharp breaths. The table Birkin is leaning on creaks under their combined weight, rustling the papers haphazardly pushed aside, but it’s not loud enough to be distracting. His unbuttoned shirt falls open.

Wesker moves with purposeful efficiency, not in any mood to tease. He does take care not to hurt Birkin, but this is not the first time and he knows the other’s body well enough to gauge its tolerance. One of his arms snakes round Birkin’s waist, but his other hand glides lower until he has the man trapped in sensations inescapable. Birkin’s gasps rise in volume, his body buckling with the effort not to simply collapse. Now Wesker allows himself to close his eyes, something he never does with another person, so that he can only feel. They may be mostly clothed, but sweat is everywhere. The whole situation is rather absurd. But he continues thrusting with practised swiftness, unrelenting. He knows what Birkin—William—wants and he delivers.

If nothing else, Birkin’s tension is gone completely. Wesker supports him in the afterglow until needed, until they disentangle and make themselves somewhat presentable again. There are no niceties, no more kisses. They do, nevertheless, smile at each other briefly. Something of their old spark has been rekindled.

“Go have a shower,” Wesker tells him, careful for it not to come off as an order, which would not work. “Sleep on it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He rather doubts that random workplace sex might have any lasting effect on Birkin’s composure, but if the aim was to break the vicious cycle of workaholism and unreleased stress that would have eventually spiralled into a mental breakdown, he knows for a fact it has been achieved. For the moment, this is all that matters. That, and he enjoyed providing such help immensely.

As Birkin stands by the door ready to leave, he addresses him again: “Thanks, Albert.”

A conspiratorial glance. “Don’t mention it.”

And Birkin bursts out laughing.

Current Mood: hypermanic
Current Music: 'Ich Will' - Rammstein
Melmo: yes my lordmustntgetmy on July 2nd, 2009 08:07 am (UTC)
So, yeah, totally don't know this fandom, but...nice. You always write these great snapshots and this is no exception.
See you later, instigator: Silent Jealousy (by pink_playground)oudeteron on July 2nd, 2009 06:33 pm (UTC)
Yeah, that's the problem... it's so lonely in this fandom! I couldn't even find a community for those two specifically, which is a disgrace. I am so founding one. XD But I'm glad you weren't scared away and liked it. :D
Melmo: Aang Katara Sokkamustntgetmy on July 3rd, 2009 02:16 am (UTC)
Some are like that unfortunately. Do it! Be a trailblazer! :DD
See you later, instigator: Wesker - high hopesoudeteron on July 4th, 2009 07:55 pm (UTC)
Yeah, it's a shame. Are you sure you can't be swayed? :P I would, but I have to think about how badly I need to find out there really is NO fandom to join it...
Melmo: Rolomustntgetmy on July 5th, 2009 03:53 am (UTC)
Heh, I see what you did there. I'm afraid I'd have to play the game first though :P Ahhh, I see. Maybe the fandom just isn't on LJ?
(unspecified) - oudeteron on July 5th, 2009 12:22 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(unspecified) - mustntgetmy on July 6th, 2009 07:05 am (UTC) (Expand)
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(unspecified) - oudeteron on July 10th, 2009 06:34 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(unspecified) - mustntgetmy on July 11th, 2009 05:54 am (UTC) (Expand)
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See you later, instigator: At Swim Two Boys - Titleoudeteron on July 2nd, 2009 10:14 pm (UTC)
I'm so glad you liked that! I wanted this bit to be based on something for some reason, until it gave me an idea that actually worked! How cool is that? XD And I second the name sentiment. I think the surname just wouldn't have conveyed the succession there, anyway.

Um, I'm not sure where he had them before. *cough* The funny thing about this is, nobody thinks twice about the phrase since it's just a way to be nice, right? But imagine it literally, "Go home and sleep and kindly don't mention this to your wife, alright?" I don't really think Wesker would be concerned about it at all, but Birkin is just gone far enough for it to crack him up. XD

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See you later, instigator: Watchmen - Kickass Adrianoudeteron on July 5th, 2009 08:20 pm (UTC)
Precisely. In fact, right now I'm wondering what they'd call each other just after they start working together since that other fic I have churning in the dark abyss of my head takes place much earlier than this one. I'm pretty sure they've been Wesker and Birkin to the world at large, but just between them? First names just might make the difference there.

He would get such a kick out of it. It's the basic principle of his own pep talk, really. XD

Heh, same here! Or like Birkin, provided I'm Wesker... XD But I can't believe I just linked to that video to illustrate a fic, you know?
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Cherrycherrytruck on December 23rd, 2015 04:01 pm (UTC)
this was a beautiful analysis on why men just happen to conveniently carry condoms
Cherry: Birkin Viruscherrytruck on January 14th, 2017 09:56 pm (UTC)
And Birkin bursts out laughing because you claimed YOU'RE NOT INTO PENETRATION
Cherry: Odacherrytruck on January 14th, 2017 09:59 pm (UTC)
do you have condoms with you?

yes. but I wasn't intending to have sex with my work colleague in the lab I swear

But in your chatlog it says "baby, I miss you, I want to inject you all night long and have you BLANK my BLANK and taste your BLANK as you come on my face."

that was a joke, I didn't mean it
Cherry: Kaz Fishingcherrytruck on January 14th, 2017 10:07 pm (UTC)
Actually have a serious comment, I don't think I actually ever gave you one for this fandom (then again are we in this fandom for serious reasons)

When I was talking predators and you said it reminded you of Wesker it inspired me to go back and read these fics and you know this fic is the reason I got back into this, SOMETHING OF OUR OLD SPARK HAS BEEN REKINDLED.
Cherrycherrytruck on January 14th, 2017 10:13 pm (UTC)
And before I started actually learning more about RE to be properly enough into these characters I like that your fic clearly demonstrates their personalities. Wesker comes across as believably a guy who is cool and calculated but still has a sex drive (lol) and respect for his colleague and Birkin is a ScIEncE gUY who doesn't sleep enough and tries to live the 'normal' life but clearly is in a conflict. Despite the fact that I keep teasing you about how shy you were about writing the explicit scenes you still did it quite nicely, I like how you kept in the passion of the action (lol what kind of saying is that) without making it like HIS BIG DIQUE HAD ITS OWN PULSE AND INJECTED THE ASS