Corner of the Unhinged Collection

'This is ridiculous.' he chastised himself.

He was a grownass man, long, long past the time he was mooning over pretty boys in the schoolyard.

"We leave the day before. Friday. Take a flight to California. We'll be back by Monday."

---

Friday had come way more quickly than Chris had anticipated between reports of an outbreak coming in from Alaska, of all places, having to coordinate a squad to check it out, warning Leon, in case he'd be going up there as well (he was, unsurprisingly), briefing his men about the blonde, capable, sassy asshole that may fuck up their routine and prepping the speech he was supposed to give at the conference.

What had been a little bit of a surprise was that command had shelled out for business class for them.

Which also meant flying commercial and being in civilian clothes for it.

Chris had opted for simple black jeans and a compression shirt that he would most likely regret the moment they landed and he'd step out of the range of air conditioning, but he'd realized, years ago, that the tightness of the fabric, the slight resistance with every deep breath he took, felt grounding.

Adjusting the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder, he scanned the crowd passing by the terminal for a familiar face.

Airports were no stranger to him, but he had never quite gotten used to the liminal chaos of them. So many people moving in so many different directions, the echoing noise of overhead announcements and voices calling out to each other - he'd seen zombie hordes with more order.

Chris was easy to spot, luckily. His height and bulk, even without the fatigues adding to it, made him stand out from the crowd. Piers' pace picked up almost to a trot before he caught himself in at the last few steps. 'Acting like an overeager puppy, calm down, Nivans!'

The next thought to cross his mind sounded remarkably like his grandmother's 'Oh, mercy!' as he took in the tight shirt that seemed like it was clinging to every inch of Chris' chest. He'd seen Chris dressed down before, and had been convinced that the man's closet was just 20 turtlenecks in various shades of black.

Hopefully the red in his face would be mistaken for being flushed from jogging across the airport floor. He had to convince himself of that.

He'd opted, himself, for worn blue jeans and a t-shirt he'd picked up at a thrift store years ago that somehow had survived longer than most newer clothes managed to. Whatever meaning the print had on it had been lost to time, but there was a jackal and he liked jackals, so that had been reason enough to pull it off the rack.

The flight was going to be around five hours, and he intended to be comfortable for that. Only now he was standing in front of Chris Redfield outside of any kind of professional environment, and he had no idea what to say.

He slammed down on that train of thought when the Christmas before came to mind, unbidden. The evening he'd found Piers in tears in the locker rooms, hair still wet from his shower, dressed in nothing but a towel and eyes red and cheeks wet as he held his phone in a death grip.

It was ridiculous. Chris Redfield was so far out of his league they were playing different sports altogether, but all it took was the barest fraction of a compliment to get him stuttering and flustered. Here he was, a grown ass adult, still reacting like his childhood crush just cast him a smile.

How couldn't he, though? He was strong, handsome, confident, and despite having every reason to have an ego the size of Jupiter, he was humble, and so quick to put others' needs ahead of his own. He was kind.

More of a man than his father ever was, with none of the toxic traits brought on by religion and military dogma - which was why, during the first few months under his command, Piers had thought that was who he was trying to replace with Chris. He'd thought he wanted to be him, someday.

Then he got that text message from his little brother, now almost an adult himself, wishing him a Merry Christmas. The message that broke him down, alone in the showers, knowing his brother had to have snuck out to even send it, knowing he was going to be alone again for the holidays, that he would never be welcome at a Nivans family gathering ever again.

It had been mortifying when the Captain had appeared and quietly sat down on the bench next to him, and for a moment he had genuinely wondered if that was it for his position with the BSAA. Can't have men on the team who couldn't keep it together over a damned text, could they?

But, no. Chris had spoken softly, guessed, rightly, that it was holidays and family troubles, asked if he wanted to talk or if he wanted to be alone. Then sat with him in silence when Piers answered 'no' to both questions.

That's when Piers knew it went beyond admiration.

And now his mind was wandering to the idea of Chris in his dress uniform, and that was not making things easier. Piers cleared his throat after swallowing the sugary beverage.

He'd be embarrassed about this goddamned crush (as Jill liked to call it) if other, more severe thoughts didn't override it.

Well, dress uniform was definitely a more comfortable fit, and you got taken more seriously. Come to think of it, this would be his first time actually wearing it outside of the original fitting. That thought stirred the nasty little voice of self-doubt in his head, coming out in a slightly softer, uncertain question.

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the questions are being sent for . feel free to edit these as you see fit .

🌟 What’s something small they did as a child that hinted at who they’d become?

❤️ Who is the one person they’d drop everything for, no questions asked?

💔 What’s the one wound (physical / emotional) they’ll never fully recover from?

🗡️ What’s their “I’ve killed for less” trigger?

☀️ What’s their happiest childhood memory?

🌧️ What kind of weather matches their soul?

🍽️ What meal do they cook when they need to feel like themselves again?

🎶 What song instantly makes them emotional & why?

🌙 Do they sleep peacefully / fight nightmares every night?

🔒 What’s a secret they’ll take to their grave?

🪞 What do they secretly hate about their own appearance?

💪 What random skill are they weirdly proud of?

👶 Baby picture of them - what’s the most embarrassing thing about it?

🏠 Describe their home when no one’s watching—messy, spotless, chaotic cozy?

😭 What always makes them cry, even if they hate admitting it?

😂 What’s the dumbest thing they’ve ever laughed at for way too long?

🧸 Do they still have a childhood comfort object? Where is it now?

✏️ What nickname do they secretly love being called?

⚔️ How do they act when they’re furious but have to stay polite?

🩸 What’s the worst injury they’ve ever had & the story behind it?

🕊️ What would instantly calm them down in a panic attack?

🔥 What’s something they’d burn the world down to protect?

🌹 What scent reminds them of the person they loved/love most?

🪥 What’s their most oddly specific daily routine?

💔 What’s the one apology they’re still waiting for that’ll never come?

🃏 Are they the type to forgive / hold a grudge until the end of the universe?

🌌 What’s their biggest “what if” that keeps them up at night?

🦋 What was their “I’m not a kid anymore” moment?

🎭 Do they wear a mask in public? What’s the real them like underneath?

🧳 If they had to leave home forever with only one bag, what do they pack?

🌑 What’s the darkest thought they’ve ever had about themselves?

☕ What’s their comfort drink?

🖤 What’s a “villain” trait they actually possess?

🤝 Who is the one person they never want to disappoint?

🎁 What gift would utterly destroy them (in a good / bad way)?

🩹 How do they react when someone they love is hurt?

🌅 Are they a sunrise / sunset person - what do they think about while looking at their favorite?

🧣 What texture/clothing item makes them feel safe?

🦉 What piece of advice do they give everyone but never follow themselves?

🔪 What’s the most violent thing they’ve ever done for love / survival?

🦋 What seemingly insignificant memory do they cherish the most?

🌹 What is their love language & how badly do they need it right now?

🪨 What’s the hardest choice they’ve ever made?

🧋 What food/drink do they hate that everyone else loves?

🕰️ If they could relive one day of their life, which would it be?

👑 In their own story, are they the hero / villain / someone else entirely?

🌡️ What temperature do they keep their home at & why?

🧸 What would their younger self think of them now?

💌 What’s the letter / text they’ll never send?

𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 :

➔ you're gonna be okay , just keep your eyes on me. ➔ don't move - you're going to make it worse. ➔ it's not that bad. ➔ you saved me once before , now it's my turn. ➔ you fucking idiot , you weren't supposed to take the hit for me. ➔ i told you not to do that! now look! ➔ you're lucky that i know basic first aid , or you'd be dead! ➔ stay with me, okay? stay awake. ➔ i'll be as gentle as i can be , i promise. ➔ you're bleeding - oh my god , you're bleeding. ➔ you told me it was a scratch , this is not a fucking scratch! ➔ there's so much blood. ➔ next time you want to play here , just don't. ➔ stop fighting me and let me help! ➔ you're banned from doing anything remotely dangerous. ➔ you could have died , what were you thinking? ➔ if you die on me , i'm going to be pissed off. ➔ you didn't have to be so reckless just to prove a fucking point. ➔ the wound will heal but you'll have a scar.

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 :