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It was six months into Chris’ employment at S.T.A.R.S. that Albert noticed something unusual about him.
He didn’t have a cock.
This wasn’t knowledge he sought; he wasn’t a degenerate who examined the crotches of his subordinates. That was more Chief Irons wheelhouse. No - he’d noticed entirely by accident, during a mission where he'd needed to hoist Chris into a ventilation duct so he could plant surveillance devices. Chris had misjudged his grip, slipped, and practically straddled Albert’s face, and the flat expanse between Chris’ legs became uncomfortably apparent in that position.
There was something there, something soft and warm and smelling faintly sweet, but it wasn’t a cock. And if it wasn’t a cock, there was only one thing it could be.
A cunt. Chris had a cunt. Chris had a cunt.
They didn’t speak about the incident afterwards, largely because neither of them had any desire to acknowledge it. Even Albert, stoic as he was, had found it a little embarrassing and was happy to pretend it had never happened. Chris, meanwhile, lost the easy, chatty demeanour he usually carried after missions and spent the subsequent days avoiding Albert. Understandable, considering he had accidentally launched himself crotch-first into his captain.
While Albert made no attempt to bring up the topic, even in a professional context, he found himself thinking about it with some regularity. He noticed things about Chris’ behaviour that he’d always attributed to personal preference in the past, like his tendency to avoid the urinals in the men's bathroom, his insistence on using a stall when changing clothes, and his refusal to wear the skin-tight tactical pants that would have made the lack of bulge between his legs immediately apparent. He wondered if the man had transitioned from female to male, or if he’d simply been born with atypical anatomy.
These thoughts, Albert could pass off as professional interest. He was the team captain and he needed to be aware of the individual needs of his subordinates, and Chris seeking privacy and discretion was certainly a need. But they weren’t the only things that occupied his mind.
He found his thoughts drifting to the smell of Chris, the sweet musk he’d inhaled during that heartbeat of contact. He wondered if the taste of him was as pleasant as the smell. Maybe it was different to a woman’s cunt, maybe sharper and bolder, lingering on the tongue. He didn’t know, but the question haunted his thoughts with an embarrassing frequency.
It was maddening that he couldn’t simply proposition Chris and take what he wanted. With past partners, it'd been easy; they had almost always met through Umbrella, and professional boundaries weren’t a concern in a company that had already discarded boundaries as a concept. It wasn’t unusual for Umbrella employees to explore intimacy with each other both in and outside work. That was how William had ended up with Annette, in fact. Sex followed by feelings, or maybe just the drive to form a unit and propagate - he hadn’t asked.
With Chris, the same leniency didn’t apply. If they initiated an intimate relationship, there was a risk Umbrella would find out and object to him consorting with one of his subordinates. They would likely see it as a conflict of interest, given that Chris wasn’t part of Umbrella and was therefore a variable they had limited control over. If he wanted to proposition the man, he would need to proceed with far more caution than he'd ever had to before.
But he fully intended to, despite the risks. If he couldn't proposition Chris at his leisure, he would just have to wait for an opportune moment to present itself.
The moment Albert had been waiting for came during downtime, while most everyone was either out on patrol or taking their break somewhere nicer than the stuffy RCPD staffrooms. Unlike the rest of their unit, he and Chris had decided to use their precious one-hour break to shower off their post-mission stink instead of heading out. An unpopular option, but Albert was required at the laboratory after work, so he wouldn’t have the opportunity to go home and bathe until late at night, when he’d much prefer to use his limited free time to sleep.
So, the showers.
Ironically enough, it wasn’t him who began a conversation on the topic that had been haunting his mind for almost a week now, but Chris. He didn’t even get the opportunity to finish tying a towel around his waist before the boy approached him.
“You have a moment, captain?” he asked.
Albert didn’t respond right away, busying himself with stowing his dirty clothes in his locker to hide the fact he had far more than a moment in reserve for Chris. “What is it?”
Chris shifted his weight and fiddled with a shirt sleeve, an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “I wanted to talk about the other day,” he mumbled, sounding horribly embarrassed. He’d barely gotten out a few words, and already his face was beginning to colour right up to the ears. “When I, uh, fell on you.”
Albert's eyebrows jumped at the reference. It was awkward, stumbling, but he hadn't expected Chris to have it in him to bring it up at all.
“I recall,” he said wryly. “You’ve been so quiet since then, I feared it had permanently damaged our professional relationship. Have you moved past that?”
Chris cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve just never had something like that happen before, and I didn’t know how to bring it up.”
So he brought it up while Albert practically naked, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. An interesting time to broach the topic, but he didn’t mention it just yet, lest it prompt Chris to skitter away. The boy already looked poised to run if this conversation didn't go the way he was hoping.
Albert turned and braced a shoulder against his locker, regarding Chris curiously.
“Well, you’ve brought it up now,” said Albert. “So what is it you wanted to say?”
“Uh.” Chris' smile fell away. “I guess I should apologise, first of all. I meant to do that earlier, but like I said - I didn’t know how to bring it up.”
Albert waved a hand dismissively. “There’s no need. Anything else?”
Chris hesitated. “I didn’t disclose that I was intersex on any forms," he said, his voice rapidly dropping in volume, like he was afraid of eavesdroppers. "I’m not sure if that matters, but that’s what it is, if you’ve been wondering.”
Intersex. A flux in development. It was a biological curiosity Albert would have liked to explore in a laboratory setting, but he didn’t have that option, so he would satisfy himself with a more standard pursuit.
“I have been,” said Albert, his gaze sliding pointedly down Chris’ body before flicking back up to Chris' face. He was pleased when Chris returned the look, biting his bottom lip when his eyes reached Albert's towel. “You could have told me this in a letter or after work hours," Albert continued. "You could have informed me through other, more professional channels. But you chose this-” He nodded to their surroundings and his own near-nudity. “So I’m more curious about what you’ve been wondering, Chris.”
It took Chris a good few seconds to continue. “I- I guess I’ve been wondering how you feel about it," he said quietly. "If you find it off-putting or… the opposite.”
“You’re worried I don’t find it attractive?” asked Albert, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
The question made Chris stumble. “I mean, yeah, I worry about that in general,” he said quickly. “But your opinion matters to me more than, uh, the average joe. If you find it unattractive, that's- I mean, I get it, and you don't have to tell me in detail or anything. But if you are into it...”
“That is highly inappropriate, Chris,” he said, the tease lost under his formal tone. Chris looked devastated for a moment, until Albert curled a hand around his shoulder and drew him closer. “So, I will take that as an indication I can express my thoughts freely.”
Chris’ shoulder stiffened under his palm, with a fearful, or perhaps eager sort of anticipation.
“I have been thinking, since the incident,” said Albert slowly, “About what it must taste like.”
Silence fell, but not in the abrupt way of reproach; more like the heavy stillness before a storm. Chris was staring at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, his pulse visibly skipping in his neck. His interest couldn’t have been more apparent. Albert had been looked at that way before, and it was generally the prelude to him bending someone over a piece of furniture or latching his mouth onto theirs. Though it wasn’t Chris’ mouth he wanted to latch onto right now.
Chris was first to break the silence, voice trembling and breathless. “If you really want to, you could find that out.”
“If I really wanted to?” Albert repeated, bemused. “Have you ever known me to state something I don’t mean? I want to find out, and I fully intend to.”
Chris clearly hadn’t expected him to take him up on that offer right here, right now, because he yelped when Albert reached over to haul his shirt off and tug down his trousers. There was no better place for this - at least within the RCPD - than a shower stall, and Chris would need to be fully naked for that.
“Shoes off,” he said, and Chris hastened to tug them off with his toes and kick them under a bench.
Once they were both bared, they practically fell into each other, with a hunger that surprised them both. Albert barely had enough presence of mind to back them into a nearby stall while Chris was pressing hot, wet kisses to his neck and jaw, his lips trembling slightly as they explored the pale expanse of skin. His arms wrapped around Albert's shoulders, hands seeking the warmth of his bare back and holding him close.
He seemed to know exactly what he wanted. The boy had clearly been thinking about Albert in a less-than-professional capacity for longer than he had suspected.
“I’m beginning to think this attraction isn’t a recent development for you, Chris,” Albert rumbled, his gaze sliding down Chris’ well-sculpted body and to the secret that lay between his legs. It looked indistinguishable from any other cunt, soft and pink and surrounded by a thatch of dark hair. A man with a perfect, pretty cunt. “Did you think of my face between your legs before today?” he murmured. “Is this how you imagined it playing out?”
He followed up his questions with a warm, sweat-damp palm on Chris’ cunt, grinding lightly, just to put Chris off balance. He wanted to hear the boy gasp his words.
“It- mmph-” Chris’ legs quivered under the assault. “M-maybe not in here. Didn’t think you’d take the risk in my fantasies.”
Albert smiled and pressed harder on Chris’ clit, pushing Chris’ hips back until he was trapped against the tiles. “I’m willing to rearrange my priorities in some situations. This just happens to be one of them.”
Chris let out a shaky gasp, his voice rising in pitch, and Albert just barely remembered to twist the taps so the roar of falling water would drown out any sound they made. The spray clipped their shoulders, only half of them positioned under the showerhead's trajectory.
“How long?” Albert pressed, his free hand trailing down Chris’ abdomen, thumb sliding between the lines of his pecs.
“S-six months,” Chris stuttered out.
Albert looked slightly bemused. “That’s how long you’ve been employed under me, Chris.”
“Yeah, well…” Chris laughed, the sound strained. “Been thinking about being under you in a different capacity all that time, too.”
My, what a pleasant surprise. The thought of Chris being all pent up about him for so long was delicious.
He slid his palm down, his fingers gliding between Chris’ puffy cunt lips and through the damp, pink folds they hid. The moisture that clung to his fingers practically made him salivate. Chris was already getting wet for him, leaking for him, his inner thighs shiny with it, and all he’d done was grind on his clit for a few seconds.
“We’ll revisit you being under me at a different time,” said Albert as he slowly descended to his knees, his fingers stretching those cunt lips apart. It revealed Chris’ pearl of a clit, engorged and pale pink with arousal.
He licked his lips and leaned forward, inhaling the salty-sweet scent of Chris. A stronger, muskier scent than what he was used to.
He used his thumbs to spread Chris wider before sliding his tongue from perineum to clit, twirling the tip of his tongue around it. The reaction he got was immediate and intense; Chris gasped and spasmed, his hands slapping the wall and trying to find purchase in the gaps of the slippery tiles.
“Fuck,” Chris breathed. “Didn’t expect that to feel so good.”
It occurred to Albert, then, that this might be Chris’ first time receiving oral. He would have to make it especially memorable, then.
“I’ve barely begun,” he said, pressing Chris harder against the tiles to keep him steady. “Your legs are trembling,” he observed, amused. “Perhaps I should have dragged a chair in here.”
Chris scowled, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. “I’m not gonna collapse.”
“I certainly hope not. I wouldn’t want to have to carry you to the medbay after this.”
Without giving Chris the opportunity to retort, he sealed his lips over Chris’ cunt and began to suck and lick, drawing more blood into that engorged clit and feeling it throb. His reward was an increasingly breathless series of gasps and moans. Chris’ hips jerked, fighting against Albert’s grip, but Albert held him firm, keeping Chris in place while he alternated between sucking him and licking him into a writhing mess.
The taste of him was just as perfect as he’d hoped, salty-sweet just like his scent, but thicker, warmer, slightly different to what he was used to from women. He licked his lips and swallowed and went in for more, buried so deep between Chris’ legs now that the man’s thighs framed his face. He ate Chris out with the single-minded focus of a starving animal. Now that he finally had access to the man’s cunt, weeks of pent-up arousal was pouring out.
It didn’t take long for Chris’ clit to become a livewire, throbbing against his tongue with every broad swipe and every heady suck. He abused it excessively, until Chris’ hands dove into his hair and twisted around the short, wet strands, pushing him down harder just for a moment; just long enough for Chris’ entire body to seize as an orgasm gripped him.
“I-it- sorry, I didn’t-” Chris gasped out, barely intelligible. “Didn’t m-mean to come so fast.”
Albert almost laughed. Chris thought that was a problem?
“Don’t apologise,” said Albert, his breath hot against Chris’ reddened cunt. “You coming is the purpose of this. Let's see how many more you have in you.”
With that, he reattached his lips to Chris’ cunt and began to suck and lick anew. The orgasm had over-sensitized Chris clit, and even the gentlest graze of Albert’s lips was enough to make Chris shake. He knew better than to latch back onto it right away. He focused on the folds instead for a moment, more tasting than stimulating, before delving lower, probing at the circumference of Chris’ trembling hole. He applied a broad lick to it and Chris responded by spreading his legs, which was more than enough encouragement for Albert to press his tongue into him, deep inside, until Chris’ toes curled and the hands in his hair tightened.
“Jesus,” Chris gasped, followed by a thud. Albert couldn’t look up right now, but he suspected Chris had just struck his head against the tiles.
He was sweltering inside, a hot vice around Albert’s tongue that felt like it had its own heartbeat. He could barely move within that tight space, and the thought that Chris would one day let Albert spread his legs and bury his cock there left Albert lightheaded with arousal. He moved as much as he could within that tight space, driving his tongue deeper, dragging the tip along the upper walls where a network of nerves was clustered.
Chris squirmed against Albert’s grip and garbled out something that was probably meant to be words, but came out more like a whine. He was close again. Albert could feel it from the inside this time. He was trembling and leaking and tightening, winding up toward his peak again within the span of a few minutes.
He released one of Chris’ hips to instead roll a thumb over Chris’ clit, a double assault that quickly ravaged what little composure Chris had left. This time, the sound Chris let out was louder, higher, immediately followed by a violent tremor that nearly sent him collapsing atop Albert - despite the promise that he wouldn’t. Albert managed to push Chris up by a forearm before Chris' legs gave out.
Maybe they should have brought that chair in here after all.
He waited until the reflexive clenching of Chris’ insides had subsided before slowly drawling out, taking a deep, needy breath in through his nose to fill his lungs. He’d barely even noticed he hadn’t been getting sufficient oxygen while crushed to Chris’ pelvis. Breathing hadn’t seemed quite as important as feeling and tasting Chris from the inside.
He leaned his cheek on Chris’ navel briefly, looking up at Chris while the boy recovered. He looked a little like someone had slapped him upside the head, his eyes glazed and disoriented, his cheeks bright pink. Drool streaked his chin, being washed away little by little by the warm spray from the showerhead.
“Do you think you can manage a third round?” he asked, idly circling his fingers around the dip of Chris’ hip.
Chris swallowed thickly. “Yeah, yeah, I just- fuck, that was really good. I’ve never come that hard before.”
Albert hummed a pleased note. “I’m flattered.” His lips brushed Chris’ cunt on his next words. “Hold onto my shoulders. You’ll need the stability.”
Chris probably would have blushed darker if his face hadn’t already been flushed from ear to ear.
“Guess I can’t argue otherwise after that,” he said sheepishly, leaning over to curl his hands around Albert’s shoulders, using him as a brace. It made the tiled floor a little more unforgiving on Albert’s knees, but he was willing to endure it for this. “I didn’t even know I could come that hard. My vision got blurry and everything. I think I saw heaven.”
The corners of Albert’s mouth twitched. “I don’t think this would be getting you through the pearly gates, Chris.”
“I don’t know,” said Chris. “Have you read the bible? There’s more sex than you might think.”
A startled chuckle tore out of Albert. “You can recite the passages to me later, if you like.” And with that, he dove back in, face pressing between Chris’ ample thighs.
Albert did, in fact, have to carry Chris out of the shower by the end. Thankfully not to the medbay, but to one of the benches by the lockers, where he carefully deposited Chris on his ass before retrieving fresh towels from a nearby stack. He threw one around Chris’ shoulders like a shock blanket and another over his lap, providing him with a little privacy, just in case. They were nearing the end of lunch, and that meant everyone would be filing back into the RCPD soon.
He wrapped a towel around his own waist and began to dry off.
“How do you feel?” he asked, eyeing Chris, whose legs were still trembling faintly.
Chris sluggishly scrubbed himself with one of the towels, his hair spitting water across the floor while he dried his underarms. “Like I hope we don’t get a job within the next twenty minutes. I’m going to need some recovery time.”
Albert glanced at the wrist watch sitting on his pile of clothes. “It’s twelve fifty two. You have eight minutes.”
“That’ll have to do,” said Chris with a sigh. He threw his towel over his head and began to scrub rigorously, his next words coming muffled. “Next time we do this, we should go to my apartment. Or yours, if you want. Probably not worth the risk to keep on doing it here.”
No ‘if’. No suggestion. A firm ‘next time’, like their doing it again was an inevitability. Which was true, but Albert found himself amused by the presumption anyway.
“I’m glad you value discretion,” said Albert. “I had intended to have a talk to you about it, but perhaps you don’t need it.” He settled next to Chris on the bench, preparing to pull on fresh underwear and trousers. “As for next time, I appreciate the enthusiasm. Your apartment will do-” He paused, the image of Chris’ cluttered desk flashing across his mind. “But I expect you to vacuum and clean before my arrival. I don’t want to be having sex with you among dust motes.”
Chris lifted the towel to scoff at Albert. “Come on, I’m not that messy.”
“I’ll believe it when you clean your desk without needing me to ask you five times.”
“That- hm.” Chris’ lips thinned. “Okay, guess I can’t really argue with that.” He sighed and stood to retrieve his own clothes from his locker. He appeared steadier on his feet now, no longer shaking. “Alright, your highness, I’ll make sure everything is spotless when you visit, not an empty can or dirty dish in sight.”
“Perhaps you could extend these efforts to your desk,” Albert suggested, to which Chris huffed.
“It’s an organised chaos, you know. Everything has its place.”
“And yet, it still looks atrocious.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “That’s hyperbole and you know it.” He pulled on his own trousers, hopping a little as he threaded one leg into a hole, then the other. “Anyway, you didn’t tell me when you’d like to come to my apartment. I’ll need some heads up if I’m to clean things.”
Albert mentally reviewed his schedule. He was fairly booked out for half the week, but things would begin to settle by Thursday. “Friday,” he decided, which would give him time to recover from the meeting he was to have with Chief Irons on Thursday. Debriefing with that man always left him drained, as dealing with any half-wit autocrat would. “After handover. That will give us the evening, Saturday morning, and noon to-” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Explore your endurance.”
The phrasing clearly had an effect on Chris, his legs snapping together and face aglow. “My, er- right. That sounds great. Let's do that.”
Not the most suave man, was he? Considering Chris had spent most of his adult life raising his sister, he had to wonder if he’d ever had an intimate relationship before Albert. Something to ask later down the line, when they weren't due at the S.T.A.R.S office in roughly five minutes.
“Friday, then,” said Albert, and that was that.