arklaycounty | i want to ruin our friendship / we should be lovers instead

i want to ruin our friendship / we should be lovers instead

[ Everything felt brighter, a little louder, blended at the edges, but not in a way the seventeen-year-old William Birkin minded. It was just nice. He wasn't even one for drinking—people had had parties at the executive training school, obviously; most of them were a handful of years older than himself and Al were, more than half of their classmates legally able to drink. But wine imbibed at a research conference was decidedly different in tone and dignity than jungle juice consumed on the floor of someone's dorm room in the middle of the Colorado woods. The latter Will had no interest in; the prior, he took part in now.

He'd spent most of the evening playing nice, interacting with people whose names he needed to know. People whom he wanted to know his name. William Birkin, child prodigy, Umbrella's youngest hire. Hours of this, the kind of thing he usually had no interest in, though he was at least able to spend a good portion of the time discussing their work.

Eventually things began to wind down; people started heading back up to their rooms or to the outside hotels they were staying at by way of the parking lot. They, fortunately, had a room on the third floor, neighboring that of Dr. Marcus and a few others. Umbrella had spared no expense. William looked around, finally caught sight of the slightly taller figure of Al Wesker, friend, colleague, temporary roommate for the duration of the trip. He waved a hand to catch his attention, trotted over.

Al looked... nice tonight, even moreso than usual. He couldn't say he'd ever seen him looking anything other than good, save for back when every little thing he did was infuriating, but he looked especially charming and clean-cut when he put more than the usual effort in, as he apparently had this evening. Formalwear suited him, as did the fluorescent-bulb chandelier lighting in the ballroom they were holding this event in. There wasn't much that didn't suit him, William had quickly learned.

The warmth of the usual inconvenient nervous energy blossomed in his chest as they regrouped, but he brushed it off, for the most part. It was easier, he found, in a vaguely intoxicated state. ]

Ready to go back up to the room?

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[ He nodded an acknowledgment, still feeling pretty stupid about the whole thing. Albert was so sure of himself in every other way that it just felt weird to be confused about something like this. It was a feeling he didn't care for at all.

At least William seemed okay with it. He wasn't pressing the issue, even though Albert suspected there was more to this. It wasn't something he was ready to talk about in any detail. There was a lot for him to think about. ]

So do you.

[ And in an attempt to lighten the mood just a bit... ]

Even when you refuse to wear your tie properly.

I am wearing it properly. Or was.

[ It was a welcome move away from the topic at hand, but that didn't do anything to sweep Al's prior words from William's mind. He'd regret this in the morning, he was sure of it. ]

It's a tie, Will, not a noose. Here...

[ He located William's discarded tie and got up to get it, then went to his friend and sat down next to him, slipping it back over his head. ]

If it's uncomfortable, you're wearing it too tight.

[ Albert gently tightened the knot, pulling it closer to William's neck, but not close enough to be uncomfortable. He took the time to adjust it so it met his standards, eyes intent on the task at hand. ]

[ It was precisely the kind of closeness William expected him to stray away from for a while after this... but instead here was Al tying his tie, his strong hands brushing against his throat, his face so close Birkin could smell the merlot lingering on his breath. He seemed completely absorbed in his task, as though entirely unaware of the racing of his friend's heart and the sudden shortness of breath that had nothing to do with the return of the tie.

God, he was gorgeous. It wasn't fair for somebody that good-looking to be possibly straight. He swallowed dryly, meeting his eyes when he looked up. ]

Yeah, that's... that's better, I guess.

[ The closeness and relative intimacy of the moment didn't really strike Albert until after he was finished. His friend's tie looked nice without being too restrictive, but that wasn't what he was focused on anymore. William's hair was a bit of a mess again, framing his face in a way that Albert couldn't help finding very... sexy? He wasn't sure if that was the right word, but it was certainly appealing.

Suddenly his heart was beating faster, and he didn't think the warmth he felt was entirely the alcohol anymore. His fingers lingered on the side of William's neck. The contact was nice. ]

See? It doesn't have to be medieval torture.

[ His voice was softer, just above a whisper. ]

[ Albert quieted, as though he, too, had picked up on the sudden tonal shift the conversation had taken. His hand lingered against William's neck despite the lack of any real excuse, sending a thrill through him—it was the sort of thing people did immediately before they kissed.

Not that he was deluded enough to expect that, or bold enough to attempt it. After the conversation they'd just had, it was clear that if anything were to happen between him and Al, it would need to be initiated by Wesker, not him. But there was a small, hopeful part of him, deep in the recesses of his brain, that wondered if that was what this might be.

His eyes flitted down to his friend's mouth, very briefly, then met his again. He answered absentmindedly, no longer occupied by what was being said. ]

I still think they're inconvenient.

[ Their conversation had made him think about it, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious. Would kissing William bring on the same subtle thrill that kissing a woman brought? If it did, what else might feel just as good with Birkin?

William's quick glance at his lips didn't go unnoticed, so it seemed likely that a kiss would be welcomed or at least accepted.

Albert leaned in slowly, with some uncertainty. His breath was warm against Will's skin as he came closer to brushing his lips against his friend's—so close he could practically feel it.

The sudden loud pounding on their door startled Albert so badly he nearly fell off the bed as he jerked himself away. ]

Quiet down and go to sleep! Both of you!

[ It was Dr. Marcus. He must have been able to hear them through the wall. Wesker hoped he'd only been able to hear the vague sound of voices and not what was said.

Jesus Christ. His heart was pounding. ]

[ It was happening. It was really, actually happening outside of his own thoughts. Albert was going to kiss him. William leaned in, heart beating out of his chest—

and then the banging on the door. His friend's reaction was mirrored across the invisible axis between them with every bit as much movement, both of Birkin's arms raised and stiff in half-defense at the sudden scare. ]

Shit!

[ Not an exclamation at what he may or may not have overheard so much as a kneejerk response to being startled so badly. A moment later, in a more projected (and respectable) voice: ]

Yes, Doctor. Sorry.

[ There was no reply. Apparently Marcus was content to leave them after that brief message. ...to leave them to this, the shambles of a perfect moment they couldn't replicate. It had passed.

Apparently it was possible to feel more awkward than he had a few minutes ago when Al expressed his uncertainty, because he was fairly sure he had never felt as uncomfortable in his life as he did in this moment. William swallowed, opting to bite the bullet and make fleeting eye contact. It would all feel weirder if he didn't, but if he acted like this wasn't a big deal, it wouldn't be. ]

He's right, we should probably... I have to get up on stage tomorrow.

[ At first Wesker was annoyed with the intrusion. Even if they were somehow keeping him awake, that was incredibly unnecessary. Marcus had just scared the shit out of both of them and unknowingly ruined what could have been a very nice kiss.

He huffed in the direction of the door, but his irritation was soon overshadowed by the awkwardness of the situation. Albert was still on William's bed. The moment had passed, leaving him feeling... Well, he wasn't sure how he felt about it, honestly.

Albert nodded and hastily got up, barely making eye contact. ]

Yes. Good night, Will.

[ Changing would make the situation even weirder, so he just took his shoes off next to his bed, pulled the covers back and crawled in fully dressed, tie and all. He lay on his side facing the door. Maybe Will wouldn't notice how long he was lying there awake that way. ]

[ Al... went to bed with his clothes on, even his tie. William almost commented, almost told him to at least take that off so he didn't strangle himself... but didn't. It stung, a bit—what, like he couldn't take off his clothes in front of his own best friend? Just because he liked guys, liked him?

(Though, granted, it wasn't as though Al didn't also apparently like guys, or so William felt fairly comfortable assuming after what just almost happened. Goddamn Marcus.) ]

Night, Al.

[ And, as fate would have it, Will didn't change out of his street clothes either, because it'd be weird if he did and Albert didn't, so he just... crawled under the covers in his uncomfortable-ass buttondown, though he did loosen the tie Wesker had just done up, his hand lingering for a moment where his friend's had been before he pulled it down, and slip it over his head.

He lay staring at the ceiling in the half-darkness of a hotel room that never gets totally dark, acutely aware of the fact that Al wasn't asleep through what could probably only be described in the least scientific of terms as some kind of sixth sense. Please, God, don't let this be weird tomorrow morning.

It had almost been so nice, and now... it was decidedly not that. Maybe the friendship would be alright. Al had said that it wouldn't change things between them if his feelings were genuine, but... that was before they almost kissed. Before Al had contributed.

Eventually, somehow, sleep found him, and shortly thereafter so too did the shrill tone of the bedside alarm clock. William groaned and sat up stiffly, spending a split second unbothered before... everything came back to him. Motherfucker. Hate you, St. Louis. He wasn't even that drunk.

Birkin sighed and walked to the other side of the room to grab one of the dress shirts hanging in the built-in closet; he changed briskly but not too much so—not like he was afraid of Wesker seeing him without his shirt, and he'd be damned if he contributed to things getting any weirder. He just had to act like everything was normal. ]

Al. Get up.

[ Thoughts of their conversation and almost-kiss swirled in his mind until finally, after what seemed like hours, Albert drifted off to sleep.

Al. Get up.

It seemed like he had just dozed off when he heard William's voice urging him out of bed. At first, he just groaned and rolled over. He had a bit of a headache—not pounding, but just enough to be a nuisance.

At least he felt better about the previous night though. The awkwardness that had felt so overwhelming then was like a distant memory now. William was his best friend—his only friend. It would take a lot to damage that for Wesker.

He mumbled into his pillow. ]

What time is it?

[ William, still in the same black dress socks from the previous evening, padded over to look at the console between the beds, fastening the buttons on his shirt as he walked. ]

6:40.

[ And they needed to be downstairs by seven to eat, then whatever briefing Dr. Marcus had planned, then things would start at eight. They'd be busy probably until the late hours like they were today—perfect. It left minimal room for either of them to stew in the awkwardness of what happened last night. William paused for a brief moment. ]

Want some water?

[ He felt fine, but Al had a bit more than he did, and judging by the sound of his voice, he was probably a little hung over. ]

[ He was tempted to skip breakfast, but there was no way Dr. Marcus would stand for that. The man would be up here in a New York minute to impress upon him the importance of being punctual and showing up to all engagements, no matter how insignificant they might seem.

With some reluctance, Albert rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. His blond hair was a mess around his face. ]

I'm fine. Just a mild headache.

[ He just needed to get up and get himself going; then he'd be fine. Coffee would also be helpful.

After having a stretch, and reminding himself to never sleep in a suit again regardless of circumstances, Albert got out of bed and went to the closet to get changed. This morning, he had no issue undressing in front of William. As he'd promised, things were perfectly normal. ]

I may need to find some Ibuprofen later. You didn't happen to bring any, did you?

I didn't. Dr. Marcus probably has some, though. His age, he's bound to have some kind of joint problem.

[ To his surprise—but also relief—Al was normal about getting changed. Good. He wasn't sure he could take it if his own best friend didn't feel comfortable changing in front of him any more.

—God, he looked good with his hair hanging in his face like this. William was struck by the sudden intense urge to brush the strands away from his eyes, but he shelved it, because what the fuck else was he going to do, repeat the events of last night apropos of nothing? ]

Edited 2022-12-29 04:28 (UTC)

Good point. I'll ask him at breakfast.

[ Dr. Marcus probably carried several pain relievers with him, along with god only knew what else. Some people were like walking pharmacies as they got older.

Wesker glanced up as he was buttoning his shirt and noticed Will looking at him. It didn't make him feel awkward, really, but he found himself wondering what his friend was thinking about. Something related to the previous night? He knew better than to ask—for now, anyway. Maybe later, when they didn't have a full day of human interaction ahead of them.

He brushed a lock of hair away from his face, but once he was finished dressing, Albert went straight to the bathroom to sweep it back with a comb. There wasn't enough time to do anything else with it. ]

Comb your hair, Will.

[ Normally he wouldn't bother with the reminder, but William looked very nice with his hair neatly combed. Though he was just attractive in general...

No. File that away for some other time. ]

It looks fine.

[ William rolled his eyes with a quiet huff, but he still slipped past his friend to join him in standing in front of the mirror and ran his own comb through his hair. It was important enough that he look professional, especially here—most of these people were older than himself, even the college students.

It took Albert longer to finish with his own preening, mostly because he cared more. William canted his head in the direction of the door to the hallway when he set his comb back down. ]

Ready to head downstairs?

[ God, he was so good-looking. It wasn't fair—though William would be damned if he was going to let that distract him today. ]

[ It did look just fine uncombed, but appearances were more important in this kind of setting. When they were working in the lab William could have his hair however he liked, and Albert didn't mind it a bit.

Of course, Wesker was always meticulous about his own appearance. William was the only one who ever got to see him when he wasn't put together these days. Having Will see him completely disheveled first thing in the morning didn't bother him in the least.

Best not to run with that thought. ]

Yes, though I'm not particularly hungry.

[ He made a few last adjustments to his hair and made sure to slip their room key in his pocket. ]

The coffee is nice. Infinitely better than the motor oil we're used to choking down every day.

[ William shrugged as they started down the hall. ]

I don't mind it that much.

[ It was gross, yes, but it generally got the job done, at least. A hell of a lot stronger than the way his parents had made their coffee, but then again, they hailed from Rochester and Burlington, respectively. ]

Not that you're not right. It's better here, probably because they aren't cheaping out.

[ Whether or not Al was truly already at ease again or just... feigning it really well remained unclear, but William realized, as difficult as the thought was, that it'd only get it worse if he let it fester. He anxiously arranged and rearranged the words in his mind as they walked to the elevator, only speaking once the heavy steel doors had closed completely. ]

About last night. I didn't... mean anything. I think we were both pretty wasted.

[ Not really. Emboldened, yes, but hardly plastered. ]

[ Wasted was a significant exaggeration. They had both been tipsy, maybe leading into the realm of drunkenness, but they'd both still had their wits about them. Their inhibitions, less so. ]

This isn't a good time, Will. [ They needed to be able to maintain their focus through the day, and that was less likely to happen if they got into this now. ] We can discuss it tonight.

[ When they were back in the privacy of their room and were more likely to examine what had happened honestly. Not to mention more likely to speak honestly.

But Wesker recognized that his friend might be feeling anxious about it. He looked at him, then reached out to rest his hand on William's shoulder with the hope that the gesture would be at least a little reassuring. ]

Everything's fine.

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