Work Text:
"Give me a good reason why I should sleep with you now," Wesker said, flipping through a few files at his desk.
Hovering behind him, Birkin sighed. "You always make things so difficult!" he complained, now collapsing into a chair in preparation for a long haul. "Half the time it's 'not tonight, Birkin' or 'must we really, Birkin' or 'I don't see why you're so desperate for sex, Birkin'. I have a perfectly normal and healthy libido. It's yours that deviates from the norm."
Wesker raised an eyebrow. "If you were hoping to lead me into doing what you want by telling me that it's normal," he commented, "you must know me very poorly."
"I know. That was just a grouse, pay no attention to that," Birkin explained, sitting up properly. "First of all, studies have shown that people with an active sex life have reduced stress. Thus, they are likely to be more productive at work, and thus eventually better paid. Sleeping your way to the top, hm?"
"I find myself plenty productive without the possible boost," Wesker answered. "Thank you for your concern about my career, but I'm afraid I must decline."
"I thought you might say that." Birkin tapped his chin. "Since we haven't done anything in a week, we are both sure to be hypersensitive. In other words, it won't take up much of your time, and you're certainly going to enjoy it." He looked at Wesker hopefully.
"Perhaps, but I really do not have any spare time to waste. I could easily continue doing paperwork well until the late hours of the night, when I would eventually need to go to bed. By myself," Wesker replied, still not looking at him. "You'll have to do better than that."
Birkin drooped a little. "Frequent sex has been shown to add three to eight years to a man's lifespan," he tried. "You want to live as long as possible, don't you?"
Wesker nodded, answering, "You're correct in saying that." When Birkin lit up, he continued, "I also wish to waste as little of my life as possible doing things I do not personally wish to do. To have a long life filled with other people's' desires seems unpleasant."
"...Okay, then. How about this for a reason." Birkin took in a deep breath. "You really, really like it when I beg."
"You haven't been begging, you've been bargaining," Wesker reminded him, although he turned his chair around for the first time.
"Please, Wesker." Birkin hung his head, the difficulty of doing this evident on his face. "I need you tonight, I can't wait. I'll do anything you want from me."
Wesker stood, and Birkin followed him. Wesker tilted his chin up to properly see the humiliation in his expression. "Anything?"
"Anything," Birkin repeated. He didn't protest as he was pushed against a wall and ground against. "A-anything, just... do that again..."
"Tell me just how much you want it," Wesker whispered. "More-"
"More than whatever stupid list of things you're about to come up with," Birkin snapped.
Wesker smirked. "I was going to conclude with 'more than you want to perfect the G-virus', but since your reply was so emphatic..."
Birkin went pale, realizing what he'd just said. "You're a cruel, cruel man, Wesker."
"So I hear." Wesker pressed hard against him again. "Now, don't you have better things to do with your mouth?"
After that, there was very little talking at all.