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Birkin had been staring at the screen for the past ten minutes. Nothing changed. He’d been working for nearly twelve hours, not an unfamiliar shift to him. But tonight in particular, his brain was shot. He was at a dead-end for his research on the Tyrant virus, a full day in the lab comparing variants all to end with his stubbly chin slumped in his hands. A headache was brewing in his temple.“Late night?”And as if Wesker of all people was the one he needed to see right now. They’d spent countless hours studying and strengthening the virus together, but as of late it was like they hardly saw each other. Maybe in the mornings, when he’d stop for coffee to find Wesker filling up a water cup. Perhaps in the evenings, when they were both too tired to say anything beyond “goodnight.”Their lunches used to sync up. They used to eat together, gossiping about what the other researchers were working on. How it would never compare to their research. Judgment was a pastime they could afford with the amount of effort they put into their science.But those days had shriveled up. Birkin wasn’t relieved to see him, but frustrated. Though he’d never admit it, he was almost jealous . Wesker would get praise from colleagues that he didn’t respect, praise he didn’t need. And here he was, head in his hands staring at a screen of inconclusive research. He was polite anyway. “Nothing new.”Wesker walked over, his very footsteps provoking the throbbing in Birkin’s temple. It aggravated him even more to consider that it wasn’t the exhaustion triggering it, but the other scientist's mere presence. He stood directly behind him, clearing his throat as he leaned forward, “You’ve been busy. I haven’t heard a word from you.” Busy, not productive, is all he could think. He grumbled through his words, “I don’t have much time for conversation lately.”Wesker scoffed, feigning hurt, “Not even with your good friend?”Was that what it was? Friendship? They hardly talked about anything but work. But when they did, Birkin didn’t know another soul who understood his passion to break the limits of science. Admittedly, he missed the sound of that condescending voice. He sighed, peeling his achy eyes away from the screen and up at his companion, “I could spare a few minutes for you.”“How kind. May I ask what this is?”Wesker leaned in a bit more, hand spread over the desk. Oh God, he was actually reading it.Birkin sighed. “I’m stuck. I’ve got the ideas for a new variant. It’s stronger, it’s healthier. I just can’t seem to find the right formula to…ah, it’s been hours. I never thought I’d say it, but…”He glanced at those long, still fingers. “I’m burnt out.”“No surprise. You’ve spent more time down here than anyone. It’s not good for your health, Birkin.”“Ha,” Shifting eyes to his abdomen and the tight, black sweater that clung to it beneath his lab coat, he let himself enjoy the view, “When has any of this been good for it…”Focused on the monitor, Wesker slid a hand into his coat pocket. It drew Birkin’s attention to his thighs, and his calves, and his foot propped up on the desk’s lowest drawer handle. His slacks tugged back, revealing a sheer, crimson sock.A surprising pop of color from the usual black-white-gray attire any Umbrella employee had. Personality was meant to be shown in your work, not your clothing. But a watch, a necklace, and even a pair of socks slipped by for a personal sense of flair. Birkin liked his ties the same red as that tight, lined sock before him.And that shoe, black as night, was particularly shiny. The leather caught the laboratory lights just right, reflecting the polished toe. His shin flexed, holding Birkin’s attention long enough for him to say, “Those are nice shoes.”Wesker flicked the mouse wheel, placing his other hand on the armrest, “Thank you.”His fingertips were slightly wrinkled, the clamminess one gets from wearing latex gloves far too long. They flinched inwards, and Birkin nudged his thigh towards them.Another flick of the mouse wheel, but there was nothing left to read. Twelve hours of his life consumed in a minute. Those drumming fingers taunted him. He wanted to rip each one off.“You know–”Wesker stood up straight and jerked his chair to the side. “What?”His shades were as dark as his footwear, giving him no discernable emotion. Birkin steadied his glare on his nose, “You’ve changed.”“How so?”
You’ve gotten colder. More self-involved.
But no, he was always that way. He simply made an exception for Birkin. An exception which, for the past few weeks, he’d lost the privilege of. Not of punishment, but deviation of interest. He had no one to blame but himself for feeling so upset to have lost the attention of his only friend, especially when he’d been burying himself in his own work just the same.But he wasn’t simply jealous of the attention Wesker was getting. He was jealous of the attention Wesker was giving to something other than him. Of course, he couldn’t say that. So he went and made himself look more foolish, “Red socks. You usually wear black.”Wesker parted his lips, but nothing came out but a grunt of confusion. It threw him off. Good . Birkin liked seeing Wesker struggle a little. “Solid, black socks. But these sheer, red ones–they’re–”“You noticed?”Unfortunately, Wesker was much better at making him struggle instead.“Yes, I noticed, they’re very noticeable–”“My socks are noticeable?”A headache, now apparently a fever. Wesker was more infectious than the virus. “I–No. Not–no, your socks aren’t–it’s more that–a change of attire is noticeable.”“A change of attire….hm. You haven’t noticed my new nameplate.” Albert Wesker, Senior Researcher. The same exact title as before, but shinier. Birkin didn’t get a replacement. They’d been at Umbrella the same amount of time. He grit his teeth.With Birkins eyes fixed on his chest, Wesker tested, “Haven’t noticed my new belt, either.”Straight to his groin, his eyes followed. There wasn’t anything noteworthy about it. He stared for about five seconds before realizing he’d been played a fool. He quickly looked up and cleared his throat, “Trivial changes. Nothing that draws the eye like that red.”“Nothing that draws the eye? Nothing at all?”He resisted the bait. “Nothing.”“I see. No interest in what’s below the belt…just below the cuff?”He huffed, “I wouldn’t call it an interest—”Wesker placed the sole of his shoe upon Birkin’s crotch, “What would you call it, then?”His palm couldn’t reach his lips before a shutter tumbled out of them, an involuntary reaction to the sudden pressure. Delightfully smooth, it pinned the bulge beneath his pants, warming it up without needing to move an inch. He lowered his hand slowly, refusing to acknowledge the weight on his groin, “Just an observation.”The other scientist dug his hands into his pockets, “Tell me what else you observe, doctor.”Birkin could feel his heart pounding. Twelve hours in the lab, on less than two hours of sleep, with no progress on his research nor acknowledgements from his colleagues. And in strides Wesker, looking calm, confident and well-rested, using his dick as a footrest. He should’ve kicked himself back in his chair. He should’ve smacked Wesker’s calf right off him. He should’ve told him the new font on his nametag was ugly, that there was nothing appealing below his belt, that he looks like such a pretentious moron with his Umbrella sunglasses on inside. Should’ve, if despite all these things, it wasn’t getting him hard. If it hadn’t been around three weeks that they’d fooled around in this same room, dry humping like they’d never touched someone else before. Clumsy but in-tune, knowing where to squeeze and where to scratch. Birkin remembered what it felt like to have Wesker’s soft, styled hair unravel beneath his fingers. To hear him shudder and moan, even beg as he quickly pumped that long, full cock. Complaining afterwards about the cum on his shirt, and having to button up his jacket before grabbing a fresh one from his locker.But perhaps he needed to put his mind at ease and let someone else take control for a moment. After all, he meant what he said. Wesker’s shoes looked good, and they looked even better on his groin.Placing a thumb on either side of the vamp, Birkin caressed the leather oxford. It was cool and smooth under his skin. The stylish stitching fit each piece together evenly, decorating the shoe from tongue to toe. He strummed up the thin laces like an instrument, curling a finger in each loop to tug. As if by command, Wesker’s weight came down just a smidgeon more.“They’re new. I don’t see a single crease.”Wesker didn’t respond. He was too busy savoring the sight of Birkin adoring his footwear. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but he spoke with confidence. He wasn’t ashamed of this. Wesker liked that.“You shouldn’t be wearing these at the office. They’re too nice.”His chin was pushed up by the toe, forcing his gaze back at Wesker. A smarmy smile held his lips, “You think so?”He was already missing the pressure, but the smell of his shoe was delightful. Fresh, that leather filled his nose. Trying not to look too desperate sniffing at them, he merely gulped, feeling the toe push against his throat.“They might’ve gotten a bit of dirt on them already. I don’t suppose you–”Birkin didn’t let him finish before he tilted his foot up. The sleek, red bottom was perfectly clear. Not a speck of dirt visible. Umbrella had their hands dirty, but their floors clean. He indulged himself anyway, kissing the tip of the shoe.Wesker chuckled, endeared by his eagerness. He was becoming erect himself at the very sight of Birkin’s tongue stretching out to give a long, slow lick of his sole. The shoes were expensive, but the view was priceless. He fondled himself through his pants as Birkin’s mouth stretched to the heel.Coating the sole in a fine layer of spit, he indulged in the earthy, pleasant taste. It was so, so deliciously smooth. No scratches, no wear. A shiny, new shoe, all his to taste and caress. As he neared the top, he sucked the toe between his lips, resisting the urge to bite down lest he ruin such perfection. Wesker must’ve still been breaking them in. He could only imagine what his tight, sore feet felt like beneath that firm leather.And suddenly, he was rolling up the cuff of Wesker’s pants, neatly folding them to his knee until he revealed what held those crimson socks in place. A leather garter strap clipped them up at the top of his calf. He felt him up, giving a squeeze to the strong, thick muscles. They protruded in the sock, shaping him with such a lovely curve all the way down to his ankle.Birkin squeezed the tendons there, eyeing his leg up and down. Patterned in vertical lines all the way around, the top was blank but still sheer. A staticky nylon, easy to glide his fingers up and down on. He gently rubbed the space at the top of his foot between his ankle bones, “It’s a nice shade on you.”One hand reached to massage the back of his calf, the other playing with the metal of his garter. His fascination was quite the entertainment to the other virologist, now avidly rubbing his palm over his groin, “Matches your tie, doesn’t it?”He didn’t need to nudge his foot into him to grab his attention. Birkin looked up with parted lips, swallowing and shifting around in his chair before nervously laughing, “I suppose. Not quite a color match.”Wesker’s foot fell right on his crotch. He whimpered, squeezing his calf for support. It twisted down on his covered erection, increasing the blood flow. Though it hurt, he did not resist. In fact, he provoked him, “Not even close, actually.”Wesker pressed harder, grinding the other man's dick beneath his sole as if he were merely snuffing out a cigarette. One he’d never smoke, like the coffee he never drank, and like any vice he’d never reveal. The only thing that truly seemed to get under his skin was to be dismissed. And try as he might, Birkin couldn’t ignore him. Not when it was his own spit slightly dampening the groin of his pants as Wesker rubbed him off with his sole. Amused but unimpressed, Wesker scoffed, “How unfortunate. I suppose I’ll have to make your face a match, instead.”Birkin didn’t need a mirror to know he was burning up. His headache dissipated, but he was still terribly hot beneath his labwear. He could feel the sweat coating his forehead and neck as he squirmed beneath Wesker’s iron-strong foot. It lifted up for a moment, only to stomp back down, squishing his sensitive cock beneath it.A quivering moan poured from his lips. He couldn’t believe he was enjoying this so much, given how much resentment he’d built up at the other. Then again, it was taking his mind off all the stress. It was agonizingly easy to give into his desire for more, especially after feeling up those fine muscles. He bartered, “Now that’s–that’s not fair, Wesker. I haven’t finished gathering all the data I need to really–ah– verify my findings–”“Oh no?”Another lift, another hard press. Birkin considered himself lucky that his soles weren’t made for traction, but that flat surface wasn’t so kind, either. Involuntarily jolting up, he slammed his palms on the chair’s arms, a pathetic vocality resonating right into Wesker’s chest. He breathed heavily through his words, “Nn–no. See, that solid trim, I assume it must repeat itself, yes? It stretches out on your calf–”Wesker lifted his foot again. Birkin quickly spat it out, “You must show me. Please.”“Show you what?” Wesker hummed, casually wagging his foot. Oh, he was just loving this. “Your sock, the–the rest of it. No shoe. Just…just your sock.”That smug smirk hadn’t left his face in minutes. It curled up just a bit more. “Very well. Do as you must, but you’ll do it yourself.”Huffing a sigh of relief, Birkin immediately reached for Wesker’s shoe. He gently kicked his fingers away, “No hands.”If he didn’t hold his tongue, that foot would have come right back down on his crotch, hard . It was tempting, but he silently nodded, cautiously lowering his hands to his lap as he eyed over the oxford before him. With just his teeth, Birkin tugged at each loop. Gently, to test their pull. Once he’d gotten them a bit loose, he went ahead and yanked them apart one-by-one. The next part was tricky.He hooked his face beneath Wesker’s red sole, pushing his hips back in his chair to lower himself. It was an uncomfortable angle, but he knew the other scientist wouldn’t raise his foot another inch to help him. He carefully bit around the heel of his shoe and tugged. It wasn’t enough. Spreading wider, he clamped down, wrapping his tongue underneath as he pulled again.Wesker was quietly chuckling to himself. Ordinarily, the thought of having someone sully his expensive shoes with their mouth would’ve disgusted him. But witnessing Birkin, so considerate and devoted, slowly remove his shoe as if it were above him…it thrilled him. It took great effort not to pull his cock out right then and stroke himself. He settled for a few more greedy rubs before settling his hands in his pockets once more, curious to see what Birkin could do to his erection without any assistance of his own.With the heel loose, Birkin slid his mouth back to the toe, giving it a grateful kiss before sucking it past his lips. Using his teeth, he dragged the shoe towards him. And to both of their satisfaction, it slid right off.He let it drop into his open palms, eyes glued to the shape of Wesker’s strong foot. Nodding it up and down, he casually stretched out his toes. Birkin confirmed his assumption; the heel and toe were both covered with a solid, darker layer of fabric. Still sheer, as Wesker’s flesh poked out, especially when his toes spread open and pushed against it.When Birkin set the shoe on his desk, Wesker slid his keyboard along with it, making room for him to take a seat. Shimmying back against the computer monitor, he wrapped his feet around the arms of his chair and yanked him around to face him. An effortless motion on his part. His fingers drummed against the metal as he gently placed his socked foot upon Birkin’s left thigh.A bit of cruel grinding with his shoes was fun, but it was much more enticing to hear that surprised gasp when his foot finally made contact. He used the arch of it to cup his thigh, rubbing down to his knee and back up towards his hip. He hovered it over his bulge, stretching his toes around playfully before settling on the other thigh. Birkin twitched beneath his pants. It was terribly difficult to keep his hips still, especially with that slow, taunting foot inching closer to his groin with every stroke. He could no longer keep his hands to himself, and reached out to cup it between his hands.He brought the firm, red shape to his face. Delicately, he traced a finger around the sole. Rubbing circles around the rough, hard heel all the way up to the soft ball of his foot, he watched as Wesker’s toes inadvertently twitched in response. That gentle tickling sent a rush of heat to his cock. It felt nice to have his foot played with so tenderly.Birkin took a moment to appreciate each digit, running his thumb over them. The warmth and sweat emanating from them let Birkin know that despite his cool composure, Wesker must have been working hard today. That was one thing he couldn’t deny. His ego might’ve been inflated, but it wasn’t unfounded. Wesker put in more than enough effort to prove his belonging here. It’s no wonder he groaned a little when Birkin pushed his thumbs into his skin, gently massaging him all the way down. His poor, tired feet must’ve been sore, especially pinched in those tight shoes. Birkin didn’t mind relieving him of that pain. Watching his wrinkly flesh squish and flatten beneath his fingers was gratifying.But not enough. A twisting in his belly told him it was perverse, but his throbbing erection overruled. Gently nuzzling his face into Wesker’s foot, he took a soft inhale. The scent of a long day filled the fiber of the nylons, most especially at his toes. It was distinct and frustratingly intoxicating. Birkin lost the restraint to ignore his arousal any more, and tugged his lab coat over his lap before grinding his fist down on it.Wesker thought he’d be kind enough to indulge him. He pushed past Birkin’s hand to smother his face with his foot, “I hope you don’t mind if I do a little research of my own, doctor .”Birkin didn’t have much of a choice, given that Wesker’s heel was pushing against his lips. He assumed that giving it a few kisses was the best answer, anyway. Distracted by the delightful odor of his sweat, he didn’t think twice about moving his hand away from his erection when Wesker nudged it with his other shoe. Such obedience did him well. A hard clunk hit the floor before Wesker’s other foot was caressing his groin. Birkin shuddered, a lovely heat to soothe the sole that rubbed his face. He gripped the arms of his chair. Smothered by his feet and desperately aroused, a lovely sight to Wesker.In truth, neither of them had played like this before. Wesker was no stranger to body worship, but it never occurred to him that feeling someone press down, kiss, and sniff at his feet could be so tantalizing. They were more sensitive than he thought, twitching every time Birkin breathed in and out. But more interesting was the twitching between Birkin’s legs. A full, lovely erection, all wrapped up beneath those slacks. It was so responsive, and while Birkin wasn’t difficult to get going, it wasn’t any less amusing that his feet were doing the job so well.Stroking his foot down his face, Wesker settled his toes at his lips, gently tapping them along. The man before him was flush, but relaxed, even offering a kiss to his round flesh. Wesker never went a day without shaving, but the same couldn’t be said for Birkin. He’d often sport a stubble that shaped his soft, dry lips in a way that occasionally bothered him when kissing. But as he rubbed his sole down his chin, he found it rather pleasant. He decided to cup Birkin’s cheeks with each foot and squish him, “I’m afraid my research is inconclusive as well. I might need a closer look.”Playfully swaying his head side-to-side, Wesker couldn’t resist smiling. The other scientist looked cute between his feet like this, especially when his puckered lips mumbled out, “Where, exactly?”Not so cute when he was playing dumb. He stopped swaying, tonguing his cheek as he slid his glasses up. Without a word, he glanced at his groin, then back at his eyes.Birkin didn’t budge. He wanted to see how far he could take this before he was put in his place.Wesker set his glasses back down, “Do you like how they smell?”Not very far. Wesker was now completely smothering his face with both feet, rubbing them into his nose and lips. That sent him leaning further back in his chair, stroking the arms with little composure, “Mm–”“Not that you’d notice, keeping to yourself so much lately, but I’ve been working since around six o’clock this morning. It’s nearly…eight.” With both soles grinding down, Wesker’s scent completely filled his nose. It aroused him so much it hurt. “I know, I know, you’ve been here just the same. So surely, you know how much sweat can accumulate, walking around all day…”Wesker pushed a set of toes against Birkin’s lips, who happily tugged them into his mouth. The thought of getting his socks wet annoyed him, but that ravenous tongue was just too tempting. It was a delightful sensation to have his toes licked and sucked on.“Mmm…yes, you know very well , don’t you? I’ll bet yours are just as warm and tired…you must wish you had something to rub underneath them.”Birkin was too enraptured to respond, letting his tongue roll under each of Wesker’s soft toes. He could feel their fleshiness through the thin nylons, and he could certainly taste that delicious sweat. All he could focus on was chasing the arousal Wesker infected him with.“I happen to see just the perfect thing to rub under my feet right…down…” Wesker freed his face, only to drag his soles down his chest, pushing into each nipple with his big toes. He stopped to wiggle them for a moment, evoking a whimper, before settling down on Birkin’s erection, “here.”A heavy sigh huffed over his calves. Birkin’s casual dress shirt only had three buttons at the top, and he undid them all, not taking his eyes off Wesker’s feet for a second. Next, his belt, slithering off and hitting the floor without much trouble. One button, one zipper, and his perky cock was free for Wesker’s enjoyment.He gave it a few idle pokes with one foot, the other fondling his balls. Tapping up and down the wide, swollen erection, he wondered where it liked his feet the most. A few hard presses to his balls earned a grunt, and his toes gliding up and down earned a gasp. But when he pushed his big toe right on its head, letting his precum coat the skin, that was his favorite reaction.A sharp, desperate, “Fuck.” Birkin only cursed when he was incredibly angry, or incredibly aroused. Given that he’d barely even touched him, it was fun to hear it so soon.Wesker dragged his wettened toe down his cock, meeting the other foot halfway. One sliding up, the other sliding down, he gently grinded away. It was quite different from rubbing it with his hand. Namely, his hands weren’t nearly as sensitive as his feet. He’d jerked off Birkin in the lab plenty of times, without asking for anything in return. Physical pleasure was nice, but the mental euphoria he received from knowing that he could make the other scientist a mess before they’d even had lunch was better. But this , this wasn’t something he could simply watch. That warm, hard cock felt too good against his feet to resist. Slowly, he undid himself, and slid it out.Birkin caught sight of it, and chuckled a little, “Must be a really efficient stress toy, huh?”Wesker squeezed him tight between his soles, “Umbrella-approved. You should get one for yourself.”He shimmied in his seat, ogling him between the legs, “I’ll have to see about that.”“Mm,” Wesker retorted by pushing a foot against his face again, “Later.”Feeling more confident in his arousal, Birkin gently grasped his ankle and took another deep inhale, unashamed of his delight in that odor. It was addictive. All those hours of work, the creation of their virus, showcased in the delicious sweat of his feet. Nobody but him would ever know that this was the scent of their hard work. Though their ideas were otherworldly, they were still two men, after all. Their intelligence and dedication had taken them far, but their companionship had taken them beyond that. He couldn’t ever imagine he'd be willing, not just that, happy to indulge in such pleasures with anyone but Wesker. And Wesker, the same, found it remarkable that Birkin could keep his respect while throbbing at his feet. Perhaps it was the fact that Birkin could have him in this position if the circumstances were different, if he’d done it right. But if anyone else were so desperate for his feet, he’d find it laughable. With Birkin, sure, he was amused.But more than that; he felt adored. Not worshiped, not idealized, just adored.“Fuck…”Softer. Whinier. Birkin slid back in the chair as if he were melting, sucking on Wesker’s toes without self-control. His salivating tongue coated them with spit, tickling them just enough for Wesker to moan, too. He pumped his cock, stirring up an idea, “Lick them.”Birkin tongued him from heel to toe, poking between each crevice, slathering the wrinkles. He peppered a few kisses here and there, and when Wesker raised his other foot for attention, he took care of it immediately.Massaging one with his thumb, he licked the other, ensuring both were covered in a fine layer of his saliva. But before he could get back to sucking on his soft, twitching toes, Wesker settled each foot back onto his cock.“Al,” he hissed, slapping a palm across his mouth, “You’re killing me.”His wrinkled brows and red-hot cheeks were indicative of his orgasm approaching. Wesker wasn’t quite there himself, but if Birkin kept responding like this, he might just find it.It was easy to rub him off with his socks slicked up. It was easier when he clamped down on his calves, forcing the pressure in. It was best when Birkin smacked his hands away and grabbed his legs for himself, directing him as he needed.Finding the crevice between the ball of his foot and toes, Birkin pushed down and urged his dick in the indent, holding the other’s ankles still. He fucked himself within it.“Hah...such a devoted scientist, you are,” Wesker heaved, half-mocking, as if he had any room to do so when his cock was trickling from the feel of Birkin’s dick beneath him. Slumped down, desperately jerking himself, Birkin laughed, “Couldn’t do it without you.”Wesker was getting sore in the ankles, but it was worth it. To feel that warm cock squish beneath his soles was a pleasant reward. Birkin’s strokes were vigorous and committed, using his feet as he would any other sex toy. Those tired, worn feet, all prettied up with his semi-sheer crimson socks. Hypnotizing as they were, Birkin still couldn’t help staring at the cock in front of him, licking his lips. He was hungry, but Wesker wasn’t quite ready to fill him. The second his grip on his ankles weakened, he took it upon himself to squish his dick tight beneath his feet. Birkin whimpered as each heel pinned his balls, grinding them around. A few seconds of that, then he smothered the tip with his toes.A quiet gasp encouraged him. Birkin gripped the chair again, his flushed lips quivering, “Al–I’m gonna–”He didn’t didn’t let up, grinding his tip under the soft, fleshy digits that peaked out from the thin nylons. He wiggled them on it, tapping at the hole, using all that precum to grind in circles. When he slid down to dig his heels into his balls one last time, Birkin cried out, “Fuck you–I’m cumming–”What stumbled from his throat was a delicious, unabashed string of moans. He always tried so hard to keep quiet, paranoid that someone would hear them. But not now. The pleasure was overwhelming, his swollen cock in bliss at the mercy of Wesker’s strong yet flexible feet. They completely enveloped him, squishing down and wriggling just how he liked it as his cum shot through his toes.Wesker leaned forward, “Stain them for me, William.”That final push made him ecstatic. He threw his head back, huffing out what sounded like a laugh, uncontrolled and pleased. His body twitched and jerked, belly spasming as he succumbed to the sweet satisfaction of ejecting himself all over Wesker’s nylons. Those plush, warm toes took most of his cum, soaking him up nice and good.Wesker jerked his cock between his feet until he was hissing, promptly slipping them off. Watching the string of cum between his toes stretch and drip over Birkin’s thighs made him moan; it was incredibly tempting to overstimulate him, but he had his own to take care of. Gripping the table, reveling in the feel of his wet, cum-soaked socks, he pumped himself erratically. He scrunched his toes together a few times, feeling that thick, warm substance beneath them. It brought a whimper to his lips. Birkin perked up, breathless, and without thinking leaned forward with his mouth open.Wesker let go, his erection desperately twitching as Birkin approached it, flickering a teasing glare at him. With a smile on his red face, he dragged his tongue up the tip before giving it a little kiss.“God-Dammit–” Wesker couldn’t withstand any more teasing. He needed attention. Birkin gave it to him, slowly. He kissed all the way down to his balls, gliding his tongue up to get it slick before swaying under his head. Wesker, always so annoyingly composed, was unable to hide his pleasure. Brows crinkled, lips quivering, and that vein in his neck sticking out. It was a treat to see him like this.Once his fingers brushed past his hair and tugged, just a little, Birkin knew he was too close to taunt for much longer. He kissed the tip and licked his cock right inside.Sucking in his cheeks, he kept it tight. He was a month out of practice, but the sound Wesker made when it pushed into his throat was plenty of encouragement. He relaxed his throat and urged the rest of him inside, eyes watering just a bit as he fought the gag. Wesker was big, and he knew it, so while his writhing fingers might brush Birkin’s hair, he didn’t pull. He didn’t need to.Birkin wrapped his arms around his calves and went into it, bobbing his head on Wesker’s cock. He found the leather garter straps and sunk his fingers under them, keeping himself sturdy as he fucked his own throat. Every thrust pushed another teary-eyed blink, but despite the sensitivity, he persisted. Wesker’s quivering whimpers were too good not to choke himself for.Snapping the top of his socks against his flesh over and over, he shook those strong, muscular calves in delight. Knowing that his cum was still dripping from the toes beneath fueled his urge to finish him off. Wesker’s fingers curled at the nape of his neck, gently pinching his hair with a sharp exhale, “That’s it–”Audibly gagging, Birkin swallowed his cock, letting it sit in his throat for a second. Though it was soaked in saliva, he slid it out to spit on the head before sucking it back in. As he did so, he ran his fingers all the way down Wesker’s calf to touch his soles, digging his thumbs below the balls of his feet.“Willia–uhh–” Wesker shuttered, unable to finish his name. His girth throbbed within that warm, tight throat, and without control, burst into orgasm.Relaxed and stable, Birkin let his cock spit inside him, keeping it exactly where it was. Wedged between those tight muscles, the head twitched and gushed with cum, filling Birkin’s belly with what he craved. Wesker was trembling, fingers clenching the hair beneath as he freely whimpered and groaned. Unloading into that delectably snug hole overwhelmed him, all the layers of labwear a hindrance with the sweat coating his skin. The strong thumbs massaging his feet pushed that final spurt out of him, his messy, sensitive soles the center of all that pleasure. Birkin took every last drop as he finished off, only freeing his throat from pressure once Wesker’s breath had settled. With his cock emptied and dull between his legs, he cupped Birkin’s cheeks and rubbed his stubble, huffing an amused laugh down at him, “So…” He glanced down at his feet, stretching his cum-covered toes beneath his red socks, “Still don’t think it’s a match?”Exhausted and dry, Birkin observed with him. They were a mess, but they looked even nicer than before. “I think we’re closer.”Wesker gently slapped him before sliding his hands onto his lap, sighing at the sight of his wet nylons. “I’ll have to see about finding another pair. At this rate, you’ll wear these down.”“Ha,” Birkin snapped the garter locks and slowly peeled off each sock, using the cuff to avoid directly touching the toes. With a little shimmying, he freed Wesker’s feet, and carefully bunched them both up. His fully-bare feet were too tempting to keep his eye on for more than a moment.Instead, he looked up at Wesker's face. He was smiling. Not his cocky, arrogant smile. His happy smile, making a rare appearance. The past three weeks of second-guessing, comparing, and agonizing over the virus were washed over. All he cared about at the moment was making sure his lab partner had a fresh set of socks to sleep with.“This wasn’t your last pair, I hope?” Birkin pinched a few tissues from his desk, gently patting down the wetness that soaked through Wesker’s socks onto his bare feet. As he rubbed between each toe, he felt less aroused, and more enamored. It was to take care of him.“I wouldn’t have let you do that if they were.”He smirked, wondering if this was all planned, or if he’d merely gone with the flow of things. Wesker wondered the same thing.Neither of them would mention it to each other. After patting down his thighs, Birkin tossed the tissues away, trying to remember if he had a fresh pair of slacks in his locker. He’d figure it out tomorrow morning. Worst case scenario, he could blame the stains on a messy lab experiment. That wasn’t exactly a lie, anyhow.They fixed themselves, buttoning up and straightening out their labwear. As Wesker adjusted to walking in his tight shoes without a pair of socks for support, he approached the door that led down to the sleeping quarters, “Get some sleep, Birkin. You need it.”Birkin straightened out his tie as if he wouldn’t be taking it right off in a few minutes, “I certainly do. Goodnight.”Heels clicking down the hallway, Wesker vanished. It was pleasant to the ears.He pushed in the chair of his desk. At the end of his research notes was an indistinguishable mess of text. Wesker must’ve pushed his hand into the keyboard at some point. He chuckled to himself, saved the document, and logged himself out for the evening.