[Once he was certain Verstael had the vials prepared Wesker carefully cleaned any residue from the flame off the blade with s small bit of clean gauze and antiseptic. Another substantial layer was applied to his inner forearm and as it dried he settled himself into a chair, ignoring the fact that he was naked for now, more concerned with bracing his arm firmly against the table.
With the thicker bands of muscle the vein he was after stood out more clearly, even more so after he opened and closed his fist a few times before finally clenching his fingers tight. A careful, steadying breath and then he was settling his right hand over his left forearm, pressing down with the heel of his hand, doing everything he could to draw that vein as close to the surface as possible. If it rolled away from the pressure of the blade it would be a mess. If he did this right he could make the tiniest incision and still draw out a fair bit of blood with the correct pressure applied.]
One... two...
[The count was more for Verstael's sake than his own. He didn't bother to say three, not when he already had the tip of that blade driving down into the flesh of his arm, careful, slow, parting the skin to dig the sharp tip deeper. It was sharp enough that the blood didn't begin to well right away, which was precisely what he'd hoped for. Instead giving him a clear view to press in until he was certain he had punctured that vein.
As soon as he let up on the pressure of the blade, though, blood welled bright and hot to the surface, immediately trying to drip even as he tilted his arm to let gravity do much of the work of collection. His thumb moved down to press firmly into the pressure point just below the vein, pulling at the skin enough to keep the small incision open, digging into the place where muscles overlapped and beginning to pump his fist again, open and closed over and over, ensuring the blood stayed flowing.
And through it all he barely made a sound, tiny hitches in his breathing but nothing more.]
[Impressive. Verstael was hardly squeamish. One couldn't afford to be in the middle of a war. However, he could still appreciate the dedication it took to cut oneself.
He concentrated on the task of making sure the droplets found their way into the vial. Bit by bit, making sure they would have plenty to work with. Probably, in reality, they were getting far more than necessary. But better too much than too little.
As soon as they had their vial he capped it off, cleaned any residue, and fairly retrieved the potion from it's spot and held the small bottle out to Wesker. He could put the sample away in a moment. No particular reason to make Wesker wait to heal.]
[Maybe they were getting more than they needed. They might never have the opportunity to test something like this again, though. They needed as much as they could gather.
He wondered, briefly, if he should tell Verstael to get another vial. But with how limited their supplies were... no, probably not. It's not until the vial is sealed that Wesker finally slumps back in the chair a little, leaving off the pressure on his arm, breath rushing out in a shaky gasp. Just one. Just once. He needed to be in more control than that.
Verstael offered up the potion and for a moment... Wesker just stared at it, uncertain of it's precise ingredients but also contemplating something. It was a brief consideration, pain, adrenaline, endorphins... it all added up to it's own kind of high and he nodded to himself, determined to use that.
When he reached up with his right hand he hesitated, then pushed the hand with that bottle away, reaching up to grasp a fistful of Verstael's hair and wrench the smaller man down, crashing their lips together. One more sample... sure Verstael would help him with that. Even if the kiss was more of an assault, harsh and demanding, teeth quick to find purchase on the older man's lower lip. A scrape, not a bite, not quite that violent but the threat of it was there, under the surface.]
[By his reaction - or lack thereof - it was obvious how little Verstael had expected that. As an ally, he'd cordially offered the potion. And though more existed, he didn't want to spill it, reflexively keeping it steady in one hand as he was suddenly yanked forward.
By some miracle he managed to stay on his feet, one hand protectively holding the vial, the other hand the potion, and no free hand to use to steady himself. He hardly got out something of a grunt of surprise before feeling like he been nearly teleported to Wesker's lips, the transition was so quick.
Hot and feverish, he found himself at Wesker's mercy, unwilling to endanger either liquid and hardly having the balance to do much but keep himself from falling over in this position. Suddenly he was acutely aware of Wesker's heated breath and a tug on his lip.
It took a lot to fluster Verstael, but as the moment ended he was left dumbfounded. Not angry. Slightly irritated that his hair was mussed. Air should have made his lips feel cool from the saliva, but instead the heated air between them made it feel more like he was sweating.
When he had some control over his footing he cocked an eyebrow at Wesker. The first thing that happened? He slowly lowered the rejected potion on a table to get it out of his hand and safely to the side.
For someone who talked a lot, the silence seemed extra lengthy. But when he spoke he did in such a tone that one overhearing might think it was a jest between old friend.]
I take it you are prepared to give a semen sample?
[Wesker chuckled quietly as Verstael carefully set aside the potion. He let his hand slide down the other man's arm to take the vial of his blood as well, setting it aside. That little quip, warm like some sort of joke but also still so very professional. ]
Are you offering to assist me?
[Something both challenging and playful. A tease or a mockery, it was hard to say which. There were more words there, waiting on his lips, but he was careful to keep them restrained, waiting to see just how Verstael would react before he made any noises about getting the man back on his knees. Oh but it was a delightful thought, all that pretty, delicate precision mussed and ruined at his feet.
Between the endorphins, the kiss, and that very vivid thought it was clear that Wesker was aroused by the situation, whatever it was Verstael chose to do about it. He couldn't push, not too hard, not if he wanted the keep the other man as an ally. But with this newfound power oh there was nothing Verstael could do to stop him if he did decide to push.]
[Both containers safe, he pushed himself back up with some help from his now free hands, standing in front of Wesker. Not that he'd never had anyone express interest, but definitely not quite like this.
His hand quickly went to smooth his hair back down, sliding down to lightly touch his lip once he was done, but given the opportunity to think, he snorted a short laugh. Naturally, it made sense to be attracted to someone with influence and knowledge. No surprises there.
Collected again, he returned to his usual confident stance and glanced down at Wesker with a wry smile.]
Very well. You can lie down on the table and I'll take care of you.
[And rather than immediately go for Wesker, he walked over to the side to... collect some tools.]
[The fact that he was so quick to correct the displacement of his hair only made Wesker want to ruin it more. But the easy confidence piqued his curiosity, even more so when he moved away to go collect a few things. Wesker didn't move from his seat, though, lounging back, fingers itching for a cigarette.]
And what if I want you at my feet again?
[He wasn't about to just accept the suggestion as though it were an order. He had his pride. More than that he was curious to test exactly where Verstael's boundaries lay.]
[Considering this hadn't exactly been in the plans, he hadn't precisely settled on what to get, but Wesker could watch as he picked up each item.
First, a coil of tubing. It was meant for hydraulics. But it was clean, and the diameter should be just fine for other uses. He turned it in his hand before deciding on it, taking a knife to quickly cut off a piece.]
You might see me in that position again, but I doubt I will be doing what you're expecting.
[From there he looked to his other side, lifting a clamp to eye level and turning it in his fingers as if he were utterly fascinated by it.
Then, another strip of rubber. he flipped it over once before setting it on the table and seemingly punching a hole in the middle of it.
This time he took his eyes off his work to glance back at Wesker with a smirk.]
[He's even more curious now, watching the items Verstael considers and selects. Of course he wouldn't agree to something as simple as letting Wesker fuck his throat and have done. But he's never really found anyone that wasn't already afraid of him to indulge with. Usually someone who worked under him, someone who would likely be dead or mutated within a month.
They always seemed to think letting him fuck them would save them, or at least stave off the inevitable. Idiots.
But Verstael was different. Intelligent in his own way, even if he still seemed so young, somehow. Enthusiastic in a way that reminded him of himself and William a decade ago. But the other man was clearly interested, handsome enough, potentially a fascinating challenge. More importantly it would earn them both the funds to make improvements... especially when his cigarettes ran out.]
You often use a hands on approach to collect samples from your... sources?
[He would absolutely not call himself a test subject, however accurate it might be in this case.]
[Verstael wasn't stupid, of course. He could see the size difference between the two of them. But was he going to let that intimidate him?
Did he let a god or Ardyn intimidate him? Fuck no, he had work to do. Thus he continued treating Wesker with the exact same confidence he had before. He was in charge, regardless of size.
He, however, didn't have much interest in causing pain. Nor was his objective humiliation, even if he would butt heads with Wesker about who was on top.]
I like to be in complete control of my research.
[He walked over to Wesker, not rushing, and placed the items he'd selected down one at a time. Neatly, in a row, where Wesker could clearly see them.
Then he went back and picked up a jar. Vaseline. Of course he had some of that around when he worked on machines, and it was perfectly safe. For some things. Wesker just might have to deal with lubricated poops for a bit. Life could be worse.
But he needed something else. Water soluble... A stream of small scraping sounds followed as he pushed little tubes to the side in quick succession, dismissing each in turn until he arrived at one. Sterile, no scent, water soluble, long-lasting. It would be perfect. He brought them both back and added them to the growing lab he was creating next to Wesker.
It wouldn't do if Wesker was causing issues. That one was easier. Belts and straps were perfect for the situation. He piled them up in a bent arm before bringing that, too, back to Wesker. And promptly kneeling down by the chair to begin strapping his wrist to it, fingers flying about him and brushing over him dextrously before forming a solid grip on the belt and pulling it tight.]
[A clamp, a few bands, even the vaseline... he could appreciate those, curiosity allowing him to sit back and see what Verstael would do. When he comes back with an armful of belts Wesker's curiosity abruptly shifts to something far more cautious. The languid sprawl he'd been in tightens, sitting up straighter.
The moment he Verstael begins to pin his wrist down, before the belt is cinched even, Wesker reaches out and captures the other man's wrist in return, his grip firm and unyielding.]
No... I think not.
[The words are clipped, precise, carefully free of emotion. No anger, no fear, nothing, no matter how that first step towards restraint makes him think of dark rooms and cold cells, pain sharp and hot along nearly every inch of his body. From his new angle Verstael might even notice that, sitting down as he is, every single mark on Wesker's back from the top of his shoulders to his thighs is hidden from view.]
If you want to play your games I will let you proceed. Restraints, however, are absolutely out of the question.
[He was still curious what the other man's intent was but the belts and fastenings had to go. He would walk out right now, regardless of his nudity, if Verstael tried it again. Or perhaps he'd simply force the smaller man down into this chair himself and tie him into place instead.]
There's lubricant and condoms both in my lab coat.
[One always had to be prepared after all. It was a good deal better than whatever that tube Verstael had picked up was. And it was all Umbrella branded to no one's surprise.]
[He stilled when he was grabbed, and listened, calm demeanor still.
This, paired with the marks, did indeed give him some ideas. One didn't need a degree in psychology to put pieces together.
And, just like with Will... He had no reason to pointlessly cause trauma to Wesker. Just like that, a moment later, the belt easily slid off like a snake running over his skin. Verstael didn't look scared. This wasn't done out of fear. It was done out of respect, as he neatly folded it and replaced it on the table.
His glanced at the coat. That would be quite convenient considering they had... well, almost nothing in the city. Verstael was making do with what could work from his piles of machines parts. But before going he placed a hand on one of the armrests, leaning over Wesker and lightly touching under his chin with a finger as he looked him straight in the eye.]
I've no intention of harming you. I've thoroughly enjoyed your company.
[No attempts at some sort of psychological warfare there. He was a straight shooter, and that included positive things. Maybe one day he would have a reason to harm Wesker, but today wasn't that day.
And he leaned in further, leaving his hand under Wesker's chin for some control as he snatched his lips. Firm, confident, and definitely looking to be in charge.]
[The fact that the other man was so unfazed grated on him. He was meant to be powerful, intimidating. But without the reputation he had built within Umbrella it was... well, he was starting from the ground up. He needed connections, he needed resources. He could afford to go into this heavy handed.
Thankfully Verstael took him at his word and didn't force him to be heavy handed. He didn't push, set the belt aside.
When the other man leans over him like that, tilts his head back ever so slightly, forces eye contact... only to reassure him that he doesn't want to do any harm... Wesker almost laughs in his face. It's almost sweet, this little assurance, the affection in it. They barely knew one another, no matter how well they would no doubt work together.
While the other man may not have any intention of harming him the reverse was certainly not true. Perhaps, right now, he was of more use alive and thinking but Wesker would not hesitate to remove him should he no longer prove to be convenient. A slow smirk, measured to not belie his amusement.
When the kiss came Wesker allowed Verstael to maintain the control of his position, holding his chin, keeping him where he wanted. What he didn't fight of the position, though, he returned in aggression, fighting the other for control of the kiss, using the advantage of size and power to give as good as he got. His hands moved up to grip at Verstael's arms, an effort to pull him in closer, only to be met with cool metal and he growled against the other's lips, dragging his head back to get enough room to speak.]
[He wasn't one to back down, and being in a more secure position this time helped a lot with that. Despite Wesker's efforts he was able to match him in being assertive, ending with a rather rough kiss, like they were almost trying to push each other.
Wesker's hand came upon his arm and he pulled away slightly, glancing down at it.]
The armor?
[It was no secret he was fond of his armor. More than just a symbol of his status, it was also built for his work, and having that served him well here.
But, he wasn't working on a machine here.
He pushed himself back into a standing position and took a step back, giving it a brief glance as if he were admiring it for a moment, before beginning to tug the first strap off.]
This uniform was custom made for me. A gift, from Niflheim. It doesn't just display my status, but is built for my work in the labs, as well as for the bitter cold of the outlands.
[Which was why it was both thick and sturdy. Not the best for hot weather, though. It was in great condition, which was obvious by both how clean it was and how little wear it seemed to have. Straps were strong and still well-sewn into place as he undid them. Not a bit of it seemed to need any mending, as if it has been made just yesterday.
Underneath was a simple undershirt meant to prevent chafing on the skin. Soft, light, breathable and white. The fabric, though, also spoke of high quality. He had been treated quite well by the Empire for his work. It could flow through the fingers like warmed butter.
He valued his armor far too much to simply toss it anywhere. He placed it delicately on a table to the side, though it seemed strong enough to take rougher use than that. The rest, though? He left on. He hadn't any plans to start his stripping career. Instead, he took that time to go over to Wesker's coat and procure the items he mentioned, bringing them back and holding up a packaged condom between two fingers.]
[It doesn't surprise him that the armor is something... oddly sentimental. For him to wear it as frequently as it does there must be more to it. It's hardly the most efficient use of his time, going through the routine of assembling himself like that every day. Wesker can certainly appreciate the quality of what he wears beneath it though, something far more appealing to press against.
Which is precisely what he plans to do.
As Verstael returns with his supplies Wesker smirks, finally pushing back to his feet, ignoring the way his equilibrium fails him. Maybe he should have taken that potion. There's still a slow drip of blood that now follows gravity to curl down along his wrist, down to his fingertips. It doesn't matter for now. Hardly the first time one of his flings was tainted by blood.]
Always.
[A lazy smirk, his clean hand coming up to reach for Verstael's hair once more, stepping in close to the smaller man to press into him, bending down for another hungry, violent kiss. They would not find a balance between them with just kisses but it was a place to start and, standing like this, Wesker definitely had the height advantage. ]
[Ah, in the seat Verstael had the advantage of height. But standing, Wesker did. Clearly he intended to use that to his advantage, despite seeming a little woozy. And bending him backwards. He was trying to get Verstael off balance so he had control.
Verstael places a hand on Wesker's chest and slid a foot back for balance to keep Wesker from bending him over too much, though he got his kiss. And out of the armor, he suddenly seemed much smaller, his body more lithe than muscular, again making him appear younger than he was.
The fabric was perfect for smashing between them. like a blend of silk and velvet. Comfortable and smooth to rub up against. Exactly the type of thing everyone would stop to finger in a store. Verstael's hand clasped onto Wesker's shoulder to increase his balance, and before long he was resisting. Not the kiss. He accepted the feverish competition between their mouths, neither daring to be 'gentle' as they pressed against each other. His lips, and his face in general, were smooth as well. Cared for. Maintained. A perfect balance of moisture and plumpness to his skin that wouldn't be expected of someone living in harsh elements. All smooth, save for the small patch of hair adorning his chin.
But he did push back against being bent over, managing to keep himself just steady enough that he could brace his back leg and fight to stand straight. The more he could stand tall, the more he pressed his hand against Wesker's chest, to lead him where he wanted. And that was to a clear spot on a table.]
[As much as they vied for dominance Wesker could only press his advantage so much. He was a little unstable, too much blood lost and somewhere along the way they'd both neglected to eat lunch. More than that he was not so rude as to reach for Verstael with his left hand, not when he could feel the slow, warm slide of blood on his fingers.
Oh he'd love to see it, slap him, perhaps, tear that gloriously soft shirt, leave him mussed and stained. But that was most definitely crossing a line he needed to stay in tact for now.
So he let Verstael push, luxuriated in the feel of smooth fabric, warm and soft and silken all at once. It was something he'd never felt before, some blend of materials that must be unique to Eos (or just so far into the future that he'd never experienced it before). But he did not step back, did not give way. At first through fierce determination but, gradually, because he didn't trust himself to step backwards without over balancing himself.
Eventually he dragged his teeth hard over the smaller man's lip, gasped against his mouth, but let his hand drop from pale hair to clutch at his shoulder instead. But he should probably definitely sit the hell down.]
[The biting and the mussing again. As their lips parted he checked quickly with his fingers to make sure no tears were left, before smoothing his hair back again. The motion was so automatic he could have done it while asleep.
With his other hand, though, he slip it from Wesker's shoulder down to his arm and his grip tightened.]
Then we walk. [He stated it simply. If Wesker couldn't go backwards, he would simply lead him there. And, despite the size difference, Verstael had a good, solid grip. He helped him over to the table, and as soon as he could get him seated he did what should have been done earlier. He broke off a bit of gauze, went to wet it, and began wiping the bleeding arm. The action following that would be obvious, as he intended to use the gauze he had left from the previous bandage to wrap it. He would need to purchase some more later, but for now he wasn't about to let Wesker bleed all over his things. And if he wasn't going to drink the potion. Well...
Before wrapping, he created a small wad and quickly poured a small bit of the potion on it. That, he placed atop the wound, followed by winding the gauze around to hold it in place.]
[It was still so strange... having the man be just as assertive as himself but then also perfectly polite and accommodating when told where the boundaries lay. It was enough to have him a little off kilter, unsure what he was playing at, certain there had to be something he wanted and was just being nice until he found the opportunity to take it.
The fact that Verstael not only allowed him to step away without pushing for dominance but also sat him down to dress the wound on his arm was even more startling. There was something about the threat of it, blood staining his skin, thick and hot that was thrilling in a very primal sense. Maybe it was what drove him to disregard the safety of it in favor of the sensation. But now that his arm was bandaged, and a cool, soothing tingle from that potion in place, he felt much more collected. Still not about to let Verstael get away without touching him but less like he was spiraling out of control.
Too many questions that called up memories he did his best to ignore, too many reminders of how little he knew here and how powerless he was. Too much unexpected and therefore unsettling to a man used to such precise control over his environment.
Once the bandage was cinched around his arm Wesker was quick to reach for Verstael again, this time gripping his shoulder instead of further mussing his hair, dragging him in against the table so Wesker could lean over him to kiss him again, hungry but not quite as violent. Softer, but only just. Appreciation for taking the time to care for him without so much as a hint of surrender. But now he was where Verstael wanted him, sitting on the edge of the table and, for now, knees spread to bring the smaller man in closer once more.]
[Now that he was satisfied it was secured in place, he could get back to other things. Like the fact that Wesker was on him again. It reminded him of stepping into a hot shower on a freezing day. The heat quickly hit his top half and seemed to pour down his body from there, increasing his temperature as a whole.
It was fascinating, really. Of course he knew all the chemical reactions, the parts of the body with the most nerve endings, the overall effect of physical stimulation being almost like a drug, but he had never spent time to experience it himself. He was a busy man with important work to do. Perhaps, growing up in a harsh environment had made it that much more important to simply focus on survival. Opportunity was present - he had high status, good looks and a lot of money. Of course he could, if he wanted to. It just hardly took up any space in his mind.
How it could spread, tingling through his body as if he'd just drank a potion, captivated him. Perhaps he should have taken some time to do a few experiments at some point.
But as Wesker pulled Verstael forward by the shoulder, Verstael gave him a few moments to enjoy his silky lips before placing a hand squarely on Wesker's chest to press him back into the table.]
We'll have to do more than that if we wish to collect a sample.
[That said, he hopped up on the table, knees balancing on the edge between Wesker's legs as he climbed on top of him. Fortunately, they were close to the chair from earlier. So, he reached over and grabbed one of the clamps, drawing it into easy reach before resting his hand on Wesker's left breast. He didn't concern himself with being gentle. Wesker could more than handle his weight. So he pressed firmly, his thumb circling round the nipple before kneading it. He ran it back and forth a few times before leaning down to rake his tongue across hard bundle of nerves, not shying away from using the inherent strength of the muscular organ.]
[Wesker didn't have enough leverage to fight it when Verstael pushed him back and, once he was laying back on the table he had even less. He was unused to the strength in his body and how best to utilize it. He probably could have fought it more but it was interesting to see just how far the other man would push, what he intended.
That he first reached for a tool spoke volumes to where his tastes ran. It made Wesker smirk, ot maybe it was the only way to cover up the hitch in his breath as Verstael abused his nipple. Still his breathing became a little harsher, one hand curling into a fist at his side, the other moving up to clench around a handful of Verstael's shirt. He'd expected this to be simple and straightforward initially. A few heated kisses, small elegant hands on his cock, the careful collection of fluid.
But it seemed the older man couldn't keep his hands off him. Or anything else for that matter.]
Demanding, aren't you?
[A biting challenge, the hand in his shirt drifting up slightly, thumb pressing into the pressure point over his collarbone and rolling over that nerve, his smirk never once fading.]
[Amused, teasing, and definitely not embarrassed as he coerced that little nub out of hiding.
Both men being thoroughly familiar with the inner workings of the body certainly shone a different light on things. There was no doubt about what Wesker was doing or aiming for when his thumb pushed on that nerve, a mixture of a numb sensation and a hint of pain prickling around the spot. But he remained focused on his work, fingers pinching Wesker's nipple and holding it in place as he grabbed the clamp.
Smooth, cool metal slid over Wesker's chest before settling into place, his thumb expertly adjusting the tightness of it, twisting the short screw of the tiny clamp into just the right place as the smooth metal tightened around the sensitive pink skin.
When he was done it held itself securely in place. He settled the hand that had been working on it by Wesker's neck, leaning over him, face to face with little more than a foot's distance between them as he met him eye to eye.]
[The smirk is interrupted by a low chuckle that hitches embarrassingly high at the contrast of cool metal against his flushed chest.]
I, admittedly, did not expect you to be quite so thorough about it.
[Verstael hovered over him and Wesker's hands slid up under his shirt, warm fingers skimming over his skin. He makes a point of flicking a nail against one of the other man's nipples in retaliation. Nothing compared to the pinch of metal that shifts and pulls with every breath but it is something, playful and teasing almost.
He's not one to surrender but without the additional vulnerability of being wounded and something of a test subject himself he's much more at ease. The build of tension now is something far more pleasurable than where they had threatened to be heading.]
I have excellent taste. You, at least, can hold a conversation. More than I can say for most.
[Which was not the only skill his tongue had. All the more frustrating that he couldn't convince the smaller man to put those skills to work elsewhere.]
I'm sure you will find I'm thorough in most things. And I'll find a way to improvise when necessary.
['Titillating'. That was the appropriate word for it. The hard nailed whipped across a bundle of nerves and his chest tightened momentarily in reflex. It didn't matter how thoroughly one knew a biology book, nor the way the brain reacted. The natural sensations were all still very much there and still very much working. He could feel the pressure of his own pants increase as a hand grazed over his chest.
Perhaps Wesker would receive his wish in some manner. No nipple would be left unscathed as he dipped back down to press his lips against the other one, quickly following with the sharp heat of his tongue. His lips pressed into him, forming a tight circle and he sucked, forcibly drawing out the little nub, tongue grazing over it, before his teeth lightly wrapped around it. Pinching slightly, controlled, a small tug on the delicate area.]
[Though, perhaps, with the way he seemed to be content mauling Wesker's chest, he did have something of an oral fixation.]
How very- resourceful.
[There's a soft growl in his throat, frustration at the way his voice betrays him, unable to maintain the even cadence he wanted to. Suction earned a deeply satisfied groan but teeth brought him up off the table slightly, following the tug on sensitive flesh.
Wesker's hands pulled impatiently at that impossibly soft material, bunching it up under Verstael's arms so he could have more access to the other man's body. Fingers slid over pale skin, the rougher movements of tongue and teeth earn scratches or the hard, bruising press of powerful fingers. Even if he cared Wesker would not have know how to truly check his newfound strength. Convenient, then, that he didn't give a damn if he hurt Verstael.]
Off with it.
[Clipped again, not because of irritation this time but because he couldn't trust his breathing to remain stable long. One hand tugged at Verstael's shirt, the dragging nails up over his ribs.]
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branchandroot
Blood, sorta self-harm, bad medical practices, FOR SCIENCE
Date: 2020-05-19 05:18 am (UTC)With the thicker bands of muscle the vein he was after stood out more clearly, even more so after he opened and closed his fist a few times before finally clenching his fingers tight. A careful, steadying breath and then he was settling his right hand over his left forearm, pressing down with the heel of his hand, doing everything he could to draw that vein as close to the surface as possible. If it rolled away from the pressure of the blade it would be a mess. If he did this right he could make the tiniest incision and still draw out a fair bit of blood with the correct pressure applied.]
One... two...
[The count was more for Verstael's sake than his own. He didn't bother to say three, not when he already had the tip of that blade driving down into the flesh of his arm, careful, slow, parting the skin to dig the sharp tip deeper. It was sharp enough that the blood didn't begin to well right away, which was precisely what he'd hoped for. Instead giving him a clear view to press in until he was certain he had punctured that vein.
As soon as he let up on the pressure of the blade, though, blood welled bright and hot to the surface, immediately trying to drip even as he tilted his arm to let gravity do much of the work of collection. His thumb moved down to press firmly into the pressure point just below the vein, pulling at the skin enough to keep the small incision open, digging into the place where muscles overlapped and beginning to pump his fist again, open and closed over and over, ensuring the blood stayed flowing.
And through it all he barely made a sound, tiny hitches in his breathing but nothing more.]
no subject
Date: 2020-05-19 05:29 am (UTC)He concentrated on the task of making sure the droplets found their way into the vial. Bit by bit, making sure they would have plenty to work with. Probably, in reality, they were getting far more than necessary. But better too much than too little.
As soon as they had their vial he capped it off, cleaned any residue, and fairly retrieved the potion from it's spot and held the small bottle out to Wesker. He could put the sample away in a moment. No particular reason to make Wesker wait to heal.]
sadomasochistic tendencies? Things are gonna blur a lot of lines from here
Date: 2020-05-19 05:45 am (UTC)He wondered, briefly, if he should tell Verstael to get another vial. But with how limited their supplies were... no, probably not. It's not until the vial is sealed that Wesker finally slumps back in the chair a little, leaving off the pressure on his arm, breath rushing out in a shaky gasp. Just one. Just once. He needed to be in more control than that.
Verstael offered up the potion and for a moment... Wesker just stared at it, uncertain of it's precise ingredients but also contemplating something. It was a brief consideration, pain, adrenaline, endorphins... it all added up to it's own kind of high and he nodded to himself, determined to use that.
When he reached up with his right hand he hesitated, then pushed the hand with that bottle away, reaching up to grasp a fistful of Verstael's hair and wrench the smaller man down, crashing their lips together. One more sample... sure Verstael would help him with that. Even if the kiss was more of an assault, harsh and demanding, teeth quick to find purchase on the older man's lower lip. A scrape, not a bite, not quite that violent but the threat of it was there, under the surface.]
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Date: 2020-05-19 06:10 am (UTC)By some miracle he managed to stay on his feet, one hand protectively holding the vial, the other hand the potion, and no free hand to use to steady himself. He hardly got out something of a grunt of surprise before feeling like he been nearly teleported to Wesker's lips, the transition was so quick.
Hot and feverish, he found himself at Wesker's mercy, unwilling to endanger either liquid and hardly having the balance to do much but keep himself from falling over in this position. Suddenly he was acutely aware of Wesker's heated breath and a tug on his lip.
It took a lot to fluster Verstael, but as the moment ended he was left dumbfounded. Not angry. Slightly irritated that his hair was mussed. Air should have made his lips feel cool from the saliva, but instead the heated air between them made it feel more like he was sweating.
When he had some control over his footing he cocked an eyebrow at Wesker. The first thing that happened? He slowly lowered the rejected potion on a table to get it out of his hand and safely to the side.
For someone who talked a lot, the silence seemed extra lengthy. But when he spoke he did in such a tone that one overhearing might think it was a jest between old friend.]
I take it you are prepared to give a semen sample?
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Date: 2020-05-19 06:36 am (UTC)Are you offering to assist me?
[Something both challenging and playful. A tease or a mockery, it was hard to say which. There were more words there, waiting on his lips, but he was careful to keep them restrained, waiting to see just how Verstael would react before he made any noises about getting the man back on his knees. Oh but it was a delightful thought, all that pretty, delicate precision mussed and ruined at his feet.
Between the endorphins, the kiss, and that very vivid thought it was clear that Wesker was aroused by the situation, whatever it was Verstael chose to do about it. He couldn't push, not too hard, not if he wanted the keep the other man as an ally. But with this newfound power oh there was nothing Verstael could do to stop him if he did decide to push.]
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Date: 2020-05-19 06:53 am (UTC)His hand quickly went to smooth his hair back down, sliding down to lightly touch his lip once he was done, but given the opportunity to think, he snorted a short laugh. Naturally, it made sense to be attracted to someone with influence and knowledge. No surprises there.
Collected again, he returned to his usual confident stance and glanced down at Wesker with a wry smile.]
Very well. You can lie down on the table and I'll take care of you.
[And rather than immediately go for Wesker, he walked over to the side to... collect some tools.]
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Date: 2020-05-19 07:05 am (UTC)And what if I want you at my feet again?
[He wasn't about to just accept the suggestion as though it were an order. He had his pride. More than that he was curious to test exactly where Verstael's boundaries lay.]
It's a good look for you.
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Date: 2020-05-19 07:21 am (UTC)First, a coil of tubing. It was meant for hydraulics. But it was clean, and the diameter should be just fine for other uses. He turned it in his hand before deciding on it, taking a knife to quickly cut off a piece.]
You might see me in that position again, but I doubt I will be doing what you're expecting.
[From there he looked to his other side, lifting a clamp to eye level and turning it in his fingers as if he were utterly fascinated by it.
Then, another strip of rubber. he flipped it over once before setting it on the table and seemingly punching a hole in the middle of it.
This time he took his eyes off his work to glance back at Wesker with a smirk.]
You needn't worry. I know what I'm doing.
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Date: 2020-05-19 01:04 pm (UTC)They always seemed to think letting him fuck them would save them, or at least stave off the inevitable. Idiots.
But Verstael was different. Intelligent in his own way, even if he still seemed so young, somehow. Enthusiastic in a way that reminded him of himself and William a decade ago. But the other man was clearly interested, handsome enough, potentially a fascinating challenge. More importantly it would earn them both the funds to make improvements... especially when his cigarettes ran out.]
You often use a hands on approach to collect samples from your... sources?
[He would absolutely not call himself a test subject, however accurate it might be in this case.]
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Date: 2020-05-19 06:17 pm (UTC)Did he let a god or Ardyn intimidate him? Fuck no, he had work to do. Thus he continued treating Wesker with the exact same confidence he had before. He was in charge, regardless of size.
He, however, didn't have much interest in causing pain. Nor was his objective humiliation, even if he would butt heads with Wesker about who was on top.]
I like to be in complete control of my research.
[He walked over to Wesker, not rushing, and placed the items he'd selected down one at a time. Neatly, in a row, where Wesker could clearly see them.
Then he went back and picked up a jar. Vaseline. Of course he had some of that around when he worked on machines, and it was perfectly safe. For some things. Wesker just might have to deal with lubricated poops for a bit. Life could be worse.
But he needed something else. Water soluble... A stream of small scraping sounds followed as he pushed little tubes to the side in quick succession, dismissing each in turn until he arrived at one. Sterile, no scent, water soluble, long-lasting. It would be perfect. He brought them both back and added them to the growing lab he was creating next to Wesker.
It wouldn't do if Wesker was causing issues. That one was easier. Belts and straps were perfect for the situation. He piled them up in a bent arm before bringing that, too, back to Wesker. And promptly kneeling down by the chair to begin strapping his wrist to it, fingers flying about him and brushing over him dextrously before forming a solid grip on the belt and pulling it tight.]
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Date: 2020-05-19 07:05 pm (UTC)The moment he Verstael begins to pin his wrist down, before the belt is cinched even, Wesker reaches out and captures the other man's wrist in return, his grip firm and unyielding.]
No... I think not.
[The words are clipped, precise, carefully free of emotion. No anger, no fear, nothing, no matter how that first step towards restraint makes him think of dark rooms and cold cells, pain sharp and hot along nearly every inch of his body. From his new angle Verstael might even notice that, sitting down as he is, every single mark on Wesker's back from the top of his shoulders to his thighs is hidden from view.]
If you want to play your games I will let you proceed. Restraints, however, are absolutely out of the question.
[He was still curious what the other man's intent was but the belts and fastenings had to go. He would walk out right now, regardless of his nudity, if Verstael tried it again. Or perhaps he'd simply force the smaller man down into this chair himself and tie him into place instead.]
There's lubricant and condoms both in my lab coat.
[One always had to be prepared after all. It was a good deal better than whatever that tube Verstael had picked up was. And it was all Umbrella branded to no one's surprise.]
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Date: 2020-05-19 07:20 pm (UTC)This, paired with the marks, did indeed give him some ideas. One didn't need a degree in psychology to put pieces together.
And, just like with Will... He had no reason to pointlessly cause trauma to Wesker. Just like that, a moment later, the belt easily slid off like a snake running over his skin. Verstael didn't look scared. This wasn't done out of fear. It was done out of respect, as he neatly folded it and replaced it on the table.
His glanced at the coat. That would be quite convenient considering they had... well, almost nothing in the city. Verstael was making do with what could work from his piles of machines parts. But before going he placed a hand on one of the armrests, leaning over Wesker and lightly touching under his chin with a finger as he looked him straight in the eye.]
I've no intention of harming you. I've thoroughly enjoyed your company.
[No attempts at some sort of psychological warfare there. He was a straight shooter, and that included positive things. Maybe one day he would have a reason to harm Wesker, but today wasn't that day.
And he leaned in further, leaving his hand under Wesker's chin for some control as he snatched his lips. Firm, confident, and definitely looking to be in charge.]
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Date: 2020-05-19 11:37 pm (UTC)Thankfully Verstael took him at his word and didn't force him to be heavy handed. He didn't push, set the belt aside.
When the other man leans over him like that, tilts his head back ever so slightly, forces eye contact... only to reassure him that he doesn't want to do any harm... Wesker almost laughs in his face. It's almost sweet, this little assurance, the affection in it. They barely knew one another, no matter how well they would no doubt work together.
While the other man may not have any intention of harming him the reverse was certainly not true. Perhaps, right now, he was of more use alive and thinking but Wesker would not hesitate to remove him should he no longer prove to be convenient. A slow smirk, measured to not belie his amusement.
When the kiss came Wesker allowed Verstael to maintain the control of his position, holding his chin, keeping him where he wanted. What he didn't fight of the position, though, he returned in aggression, fighting the other for control of the kiss, using the advantage of size and power to give as good as he got. His hands moved up to grip at Verstael's arms, an effort to pull him in closer, only to be met with cool metal and he growled against the other's lips, dragging his head back to get enough room to speak.]
Take that off.
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Date: 2020-05-20 12:09 am (UTC)Wesker's hand came upon his arm and he pulled away slightly, glancing down at it.]
The armor?
[It was no secret he was fond of his armor. More than just a symbol of his status, it was also built for his work, and having that served him well here.
But, he wasn't working on a machine here.
He pushed himself back into a standing position and took a step back, giving it a brief glance as if he were admiring it for a moment, before beginning to tug the first strap off.]
This uniform was custom made for me. A gift, from Niflheim. It doesn't just display my status, but is built for my work in the labs, as well as for the bitter cold of the outlands.
[Which was why it was both thick and sturdy. Not the best for hot weather, though. It was in great condition, which was obvious by both how clean it was and how little wear it seemed to have. Straps were strong and still well-sewn into place as he undid them. Not a bit of it seemed to need any mending, as if it has been made just yesterday.
Underneath was a simple undershirt meant to prevent chafing on the skin. Soft, light, breathable and white. The fabric, though, also spoke of high quality. He had been treated quite well by the Empire for his work. It could flow through the fingers like warmed butter.
He valued his armor far too much to simply toss it anywhere. He placed it delicately on a table to the side, though it seemed strong enough to take rougher use than that. The rest, though? He left on. He hadn't any plans to start his stripping career. Instead, he took that time to go over to Wesker's coat and procure the items he mentioned, bringing them back and holding up a packaged condom between two fingers.]
You came prepared.
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Date: 2020-05-20 12:26 am (UTC)[It doesn't surprise him that the armor is something... oddly sentimental. For him to wear it as frequently as it does there must be more to it. It's hardly the most efficient use of his time, going through the routine of assembling himself like that every day. Wesker can certainly appreciate the quality of what he wears beneath it though, something far more appealing to press against.
Which is precisely what he plans to do.
As Verstael returns with his supplies Wesker smirks, finally pushing back to his feet, ignoring the way his equilibrium fails him. Maybe he should have taken that potion. There's still a slow drip of blood that now follows gravity to curl down along his wrist, down to his fingertips. It doesn't matter for now. Hardly the first time one of his flings was tainted by blood.]
Always.
[A lazy smirk, his clean hand coming up to reach for Verstael's hair once more, stepping in close to the smaller man to press into him, bending down for another hungry, violent kiss. They would not find a balance between them with just kisses but it was a place to start and, standing like this, Wesker definitely had the height advantage. ]
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Date: 2020-05-20 01:00 am (UTC)Verstael places a hand on Wesker's chest and slid a foot back for balance to keep Wesker from bending him over too much, though he got his kiss. And out of the armor, he suddenly seemed much smaller, his body more lithe than muscular, again making him appear younger than he was.
The fabric was perfect for smashing between them. like a blend of silk and velvet. Comfortable and smooth to rub up against. Exactly the type of thing everyone would stop to finger in a store. Verstael's hand clasped onto Wesker's shoulder to increase his balance, and before long he was resisting. Not the kiss. He accepted the feverish competition between their mouths, neither daring to be 'gentle' as they pressed against each other. His lips, and his face in general, were smooth as well. Cared for. Maintained. A perfect balance of moisture and plumpness to his skin that wouldn't be expected of someone living in harsh elements. All smooth, save for the small patch of hair adorning his chin.
But he did push back against being bent over, managing to keep himself just steady enough that he could brace his back leg and fight to stand straight. The more he could stand tall, the more he pressed his hand against Wesker's chest, to lead him where he wanted. And that was to a clear spot on a table.]
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Date: 2020-05-20 01:17 am (UTC)Oh he'd love to see it, slap him, perhaps, tear that gloriously soft shirt, leave him mussed and stained. But that was most definitely crossing a line he needed to stay in tact for now.
So he let Verstael push, luxuriated in the feel of smooth fabric, warm and soft and silken all at once. It was something he'd never felt before, some blend of materials that must be unique to Eos (or just so far into the future that he'd never experienced it before). But he did not step back, did not give way. At first through fierce determination but, gradually, because he didn't trust himself to step backwards without over balancing himself.
Eventually he dragged his teeth hard over the smaller man's lip, gasped against his mouth, but let his hand drop from pale hair to clutch at his shoulder instead. But he should probably definitely sit the hell down.]
Backwards... is not going to work.
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Date: 2020-05-20 01:29 am (UTC)With his other hand, though, he slip it from Wesker's shoulder down to his arm and his grip tightened.]
Then we walk. [He stated it simply. If Wesker couldn't go backwards, he would simply lead him there. And, despite the size difference, Verstael had a good, solid grip. He helped him over to the table, and as soon as he could get him seated he did what should have been done earlier. He broke off a bit of gauze, went to wet it, and began wiping the bleeding arm. The action following that would be obvious, as he intended to use the gauze he had left from the previous bandage to wrap it. He would need to purchase some more later, but for now he wasn't about to let Wesker bleed all over his things. And if he wasn't going to drink the potion. Well...
Before wrapping, he created a small wad and quickly poured a small bit of the potion on it. That, he placed atop the wound, followed by winding the gauze around to hold it in place.]
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Date: 2020-05-20 05:25 pm (UTC)The fact that Verstael not only allowed him to step away without pushing for dominance but also sat him down to dress the wound on his arm was even more startling. There was something about the threat of it, blood staining his skin, thick and hot that was thrilling in a very primal sense. Maybe it was what drove him to disregard the safety of it in favor of the sensation. But now that his arm was bandaged, and a cool, soothing tingle from that potion in place, he felt much more collected. Still not about to let Verstael get away without touching him but less like he was spiraling out of control.
Too many questions that called up memories he did his best to ignore, too many reminders of how little he knew here and how powerless he was. Too much unexpected and therefore unsettling to a man used to such precise control over his environment.
Once the bandage was cinched around his arm Wesker was quick to reach for Verstael again, this time gripping his shoulder instead of further mussing his hair, dragging him in against the table so Wesker could lean over him to kiss him again, hungry but not quite as violent. Softer, but only just. Appreciation for taking the time to care for him without so much as a hint of surrender. But now he was where Verstael wanted him, sitting on the edge of the table and, for now, knees spread to bring the smaller man in closer once more.]
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Date: 2020-05-20 07:02 pm (UTC)It was fascinating, really. Of course he knew all the chemical reactions, the parts of the body with the most nerve endings, the overall effect of physical stimulation being almost like a drug, but he had never spent time to experience it himself. He was a busy man with important work to do. Perhaps, growing up in a harsh environment had made it that much more important to simply focus on survival. Opportunity was present - he had high status, good looks and a lot of money. Of course he could, if he wanted to. It just hardly took up any space in his mind.
How it could spread, tingling through his body as if he'd just drank a potion, captivated him. Perhaps he should have taken some time to do a few experiments at some point.
But as Wesker pulled Verstael forward by the shoulder, Verstael gave him a few moments to enjoy his silky lips before placing a hand squarely on Wesker's chest to press him back into the table.]
We'll have to do more than that if we wish to collect a sample.
[That said, he hopped up on the table, knees balancing on the edge between Wesker's legs as he climbed on top of him. Fortunately, they were close to the chair from earlier. So, he reached over and grabbed one of the clamps, drawing it into easy reach before resting his hand on Wesker's left breast. He didn't concern himself with being gentle. Wesker could more than handle his weight. So he pressed firmly, his thumb circling round the nipple before kneading it. He ran it back and forth a few times before leaning down to rake his tongue across hard bundle of nerves, not shying away from using the inherent strength of the muscular organ.]
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Date: 2020-05-20 07:44 pm (UTC)That he first reached for a tool spoke volumes to where his tastes ran. It made Wesker smirk, ot maybe it was the only way to cover up the hitch in his breath as Verstael abused his nipple. Still his breathing became a little harsher, one hand curling into a fist at his side, the other moving up to clench around a handful of Verstael's shirt. He'd expected this to be simple and straightforward initially. A few heated kisses, small elegant hands on his cock, the careful collection of fluid.
But it seemed the older man couldn't keep his hands off him. Or anything else for that matter.]
Demanding, aren't you?
[A biting challenge, the hand in his shirt drifting up slightly, thumb pressing into the pressure point over his collarbone and rolling over that nerve, his smirk never once fading.]
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Date: 2020-05-20 08:24 pm (UTC)[Amused, teasing, and definitely not embarrassed as he coerced that little nub out of hiding.
Both men being thoroughly familiar with the inner workings of the body certainly shone a different light on things. There was no doubt about what Wesker was doing or aiming for when his thumb pushed on that nerve, a mixture of a numb sensation and a hint of pain prickling around the spot. But he remained focused on his work, fingers pinching Wesker's nipple and holding it in place as he grabbed the clamp.
Smooth, cool metal slid over Wesker's chest before settling into place, his thumb expertly adjusting the tightness of it, twisting the short screw of the tiny clamp into just the right place as the smooth metal tightened around the sensitive pink skin.
When he was done it held itself securely in place. He settled the hand that had been working on it by Wesker's neck, leaning over him, face to face with little more than a foot's distance between them as he met him eye to eye.]
Not that I blame you for having good taste.
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Date: 2020-05-20 08:54 pm (UTC)I, admittedly, did not expect you to be quite so thorough about it.
[Verstael hovered over him and Wesker's hands slid up under his shirt, warm fingers skimming over his skin. He makes a point of flicking a nail against one of the other man's nipples in retaliation. Nothing compared to the pinch of metal that shifts and pulls with every breath but it is something, playful and teasing almost.
He's not one to surrender but without the additional vulnerability of being wounded and something of a test subject himself he's much more at ease. The build of tension now is something far more pleasurable than where they had threatened to be heading.]
I have excellent taste. You, at least, can hold a conversation. More than I can say for most.
[Which was not the only skill his tongue had. All the more frustrating that he couldn't convince the smaller man to put those skills to work elsewhere.]
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Date: 2020-05-20 11:31 pm (UTC)['Titillating'. That was the appropriate word for it. The hard nailed whipped across a bundle of nerves and his chest tightened momentarily in reflex. It didn't matter how thoroughly one knew a biology book, nor the way the brain reacted. The natural sensations were all still very much there and still very much working. He could feel the pressure of his own pants increase as a hand grazed over his chest.
Perhaps Wesker would receive his wish in some manner. No nipple would be left unscathed as he dipped back down to press his lips against the other one, quickly following with the sharp heat of his tongue. His lips pressed into him, forming a tight circle and he sucked, forcibly drawing out the little nub, tongue grazing over it, before his teeth lightly wrapped around it. Pinching slightly, controlled, a small tug on the delicate area.]
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Date: 2020-05-21 04:56 am (UTC)How very- resourceful.
[There's a soft growl in his throat, frustration at the way his voice betrays him, unable to maintain the even cadence he wanted to. Suction earned a deeply satisfied groan but teeth brought him up off the table slightly, following the tug on sensitive flesh.
Wesker's hands pulled impatiently at that impossibly soft material, bunching it up under Verstael's arms so he could have more access to the other man's body. Fingers slid over pale skin, the rougher movements of tongue and teeth earn scratches or the hard, bruising press of powerful fingers. Even if he cared Wesker would not have know how to truly check his newfound strength. Convenient, then, that he didn't give a damn if he hurt Verstael.]
Off with it.
[Clipped again, not because of irritation this time but because he couldn't trust his breathing to remain stable long. One hand tugged at Verstael's shirt, the dragging nails up over his ribs.]
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