|New Fic Peeps! Warning: NC-17
||[Mar. 19th, 2008|08:19 pm]
Cable x Deadpool
Man, I've just become tuned in to this fandom, and I seriously can't get enough right now. IT'S MY DRUG PEOPLE!
So I decided to try my hand to writing something, despite the fact that usually when I do this it comes out completly crap. But! Not this time.It is not entirely crap! Hence I am posting it here. Set somewhere between #21 and#22. Enjoy.
The story starts with fighting, because isn’t that how most of Wade’s stories open?
“Shun Kuei! Again?” Well, isn’t that great. This guy keeps appearing so often they should rename the comic Cable & Deadpool & The Cat. “Show me the damn tattoo!”
“Do you get off on the sight of my bare chest or something?” The Cat says, pulling down his shirt anyway, enough to reveal the inky black cat shape in the middle. It’s still totally sweet.
“Um... no?” Wade cocks his head to one side. “But hey, that’s not to say I’m not glad to see you. After all, it’s about time I beat you! What kind of damage is it gonna do to my reputation if I let you walk all over me every time we meet?”
“Shuttup Deadpool.” The Cat leaps at him with a kick that snaps his head back. It hurts, kinda.
“Who me?” He’d like to draw the katana, but Nate’s around here somewhere, and he probably wouldn’t be too pleased to find a pretty little heap of butchered Cat in the middle of the floor. “The things I do for that man,” he mutters under his breath. Then louder; “Come on you pussy, I don’t want to be here all day. I gotta get home for the Golden Girls marathon tonight! You really want to deny me my sweet Bea Arthur?”
Kuei rolls his eyes, pulling a handful of shuriken. Wade thinks he’s about to get predictable, but this time the sharp metal stars arc upwards. Everything goes black as the lights shatter.
“Aw, come on!” There’s a little bit of light coming in from the ceiling, but not enough. He draws a gun, loading tracers. “How’s this gonna do you any good? You can’t see me, I can’t see you...”
“Don’t you know, Deadpool?” Kuei’s voice chuckles out from the shadows. “Cats can see in the dark.”
“You’ve got night vision goggles?” Wade can hardly hold back his glee. “That is so totally cool!”
A lightning fast – well, catlike – series of punches hammer into his body, knocking the wind out of him. He hoped Nate wouldn’t show up right now, ‘cos this was kinda embarrassing.
“Man, you’re almost worse than Squirrel Girl! Wait... has that even happened yet? Oops, there goes that pesky fourth wall again. Seriously, they should make that out of proper bricks or something ‘cos I just keep on tearing right through it.”
“Still talking as much as usual Wade?” Oh look, here comes the cavalry. Well, Nathan Dayspring Askani’son Gesundheit Cable Soldier X Priscilla Summers to be precise. The T.O.-powered eye flashes out of the darkness. Wade is torn between grinning, and being annoyed he hasn’t quite managed to present the Cat as a little string tied parcel to Mr Messiah-complex’s feet. That would be a hell of a lot less embarrassing.
“What took you so long? Been off rescuing abandoned orphan puppies? Maybe actual abandoned orphans, though I think the puppies definitely win with the cuteness factor.”
“I was fixing the back-up lights.” Wade imagines he can probably see the smirk on Nate’s face. “So I could do this.” He snaps his fingers, and look! If it isn’t Nathan’s Smirk No. 4, I’m-so-clever-and-don’t-I-know-it. Because he keeps an eye on fandom as well, and knows the whole smirk-counting thing is one of those fanon doohickies. Or at least he thinks so. Oh, there goes the fourth wall again. Must find some bricks to shore it up. Even a coupla planks of wood would do it.
And there’s the Cat in the corner. Looking remarkably confident for someone facing both Deadpool and Super-Jesus. He pulls a sealed plastic bag out from somewhere under his clothes.
“Oooh, what’s that? Looks shiny. Is it drugs? Because really, that wouldn’t be do much for your image would it? I mean, you’re like Jet Li and Jackie Chan’s lovechild as it is, and I have a hard time taking you seriously anyway...”
Shen Kuei smiles at them. “It’s a little present from myself and Black Mamba.”
“Really? ‘Cos that doesn’t look much like massage oil to me...”
The Cat suddenly jumps up, springing off a handily placed minimalist sculpture and tosses a handful of sparkly dust into Cable’s face. Nathan sneezes, his human eye watering.
“Um, I’m probably not going to like it when you tell me what that shit is am I?”
“No.” Kuei smiles. “But I’ll let you find out for yourself. Meanwhile, I’ve got things to steal.”
“Hey wait, where’d you think you’re going? Did I say we were done here yet? I ain’t kicked the crap out of you!” He’s about to run after him as the Cat disappears round the corner when a large metal arm encircles him. “Um... Nate? What are you doing?”
Cable doesn’t answer, just pulling him close in to his chest. His breath is warm on the back of Wade’s neck, and he unclips the weapons harness, letting it fall and kicking it away.
“Nate, what the hell?”
Nathan lowers his head, nuzzling along the line of Wade’s shoulder through the spandex costume, nipping a bit with his teeth, which is totally hot, and there’s a kinda impressive bulge pressing into Wade’s ass – do all guys from the future have dicks that big, ‘cos if so, he totally wants to go see – and Nate’s human hand is mapping a path along his stomach muscles and under his belt...
“Man, this is way better than freakin’ massage oil, but still, d’you think this is really the time...?” Then it hits him. “What! Sex pollen? Sex pollen! That is so fuckin’ cliché! I hate you fanfic author.”
Obviously Nate isn’t paying attention, and his metal arm is surprisingly strong, and apparently one of the skills a future soldier learns is how to undo a belt with one hand because yes, the belt with all those handy pancreas-carrying pouches is now wide open, and he’s reaching down to cup his balls and rub his thumb along the length of his half-hard cock, which is now totally hard, and the way he does that is so really fucking hot... And anyway, Wade’s still got enough of a brain left to wonder if said belt-undoing skill is kinda like undoing a bra one handed, and think that probably Nate is gonna regret this when he recovers from that pesky sex pollen, and he should probably try and stop him, but the way he’s biting down on his shoulder now with just the right amount of force is just so damn good...
Ah shit. He really owes it to Nate to try and regain some control here, even though he really, really wishes Nate was doing this of his own accord, because while he totally doesn’t want to admit that he really did want that little fantasy of earlier to come true, now it’s actually happening, well fuck if he doesn’t care about presenting a big manly merc image to the world – and especially Nate. ‘Cos it’s not like he thought the other guy would ever show any interest, and even now that’s not exactly a guarantee.
“Nate.” He finally finds his voice, though it’s not easy. “Nate, you’re gonna regret this in the morning, honestly, if you can still hear me in there, try and fight it...” But Nate’s not listening, and there’s no way he could pull away even if he wanted to because that left arm is really, really strong, and also has a really great texture which is very distracting, though not as distracting as the hand on his cock, and... “Wait a second... where did my pants go? Oh, they’re down there... When did that happen?”
The hand on his cock is removed for a second, and then Nate’s cock is pressing up against his ass, and oh God that’s big, and his own dick aches with lust, and he’s almost forgotten they’re in a kinda public place, so it’s a good thing they took out the guards earlier. And then Nate thrusts in, and fuck that hurts at first, and he probably gasped there, it certainly wasn’t a moan ‘cos that would be girly... And you have your best pals cock up your arse and you’re thinking about not sounding girly, and thank God for that healing factor otherwise this would really suck. That first rip’s closing, and now blood is acting as lube, and Nate’s metal hand is on his hips holding him in place so he can thrust properly. He hits that happyfunyay spot inside him and yup, that was definitely a moan, possibly even a ‘guh’, or similar written sound effect, goodbye fourth wall again, I’m sure the little fourth wall fairies will put you back up.
Apparently Nate’s T.O. arm is strong enough to hold him in place all on its lonesome, because the other is back on his cock, jerking him off with just the right amount of friction. Nate’s thumb teases over the tip, over the slit leaking with precome, and his big cock is still hitting that happyhappy place inside him, and his teeth are still fastened on his neck, and the ridged texture of that metal arm presses into his chest, and all his senses are overwhelmed with touch, and arousal, and Nate’s musky smell, and yeah, he’s going to come now, verrrrrrrrrrry soon now, if he can just hold on ‘til Nate comes just for the sake of pride... ah fuck! Wade jerks as he spills himself over Nate’s fingers, and all the muscles along his spine tighten, and he thinks he’s moaning Nate’s name, but frankly he could be saying anything right now and he wouldn’t care, and then Nate comes inside him, and it fells kinda weird, but sooooooo good, and Nate’s metal arm tightens on him enough that he thinks his pelvis might break, but that’s good too, and those teeth would be leaving a hickey about the size of Atlanta if it wasn’t for that healing factor...
Wade’s brain is pretty fuzzy, and he would quite like to collapse in a bony, clingy heap on to Nate, but this isn’t the best time or place. That sex pollen could be wearing off any time now...
Like right now, for instance. Shi-it. “Guh...” he say, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth and working out how to make coherent sounds again. “Yes Nate?”
“What just... what did I do? Why am I...” He’s finally realised what’s going on. “Oh shit.” He draws out of Wade’s ass, turning him around to face him, treating him like glass. Wade rolls his eyes before realising he’s still wearing his mask. “I didn’t... I didn’t hurt you did I...? I’m so sorry... oh shit!”
Wade sighs. Trust Nate to get the wrong idea. Super Jesus ain’t so bright at times. “Nate, seriously. Don’t ya think I might have tried to kill you by now if that’d been the case?” Nate’s still panicking, but Wade’s all sticky, and frankly he really needs a shower. He picks up his weapons harness. “Bodyslide by two.”
They reappear in Wade’s apartment. He sits Nate down on his bed – it’s either flattering or slightly weird how worried he is by all this – and looks him in the eye. “I’m gonna go get a shower, and then we’re gonna talk. Stop freakin’ out, okay.”
The water is hot, and nice, and he scrubs his ass, turning the water slightly pink for a few seconds. Shit, now he has a moment to think, it’s no wonder Nate freaked, finding Wade’s blood on his cock. This is gonna take some explaining, and probably involve talking about feelings, and all that shit he hates.
He dries quickly, hoping Nate hasn’t done anything stupid. When he get’s back though... oh look, the putz is gone. Well done Super Jesus. He’s left a note too. How overblown.
“Wade,” it says. Well, promising start. “I can’t possibly apologise for what I’ve done, and I expect you’ll want to come after me when you get yourself together. I really can’t blame you, and I’m surprised you haven’t done it already. I deserve to be killed for what I did to you. Sorry. Nate.”
Typical Nate, Wade thinks. Crucifying himself, again, being all melodramatic, as if he was in Smallville or something. Well obviously he’ll have to go after him, if not for the reasons Nate thinks. Luckily there’s a plenty easy way to do that.
He gets dressed; all his usual Deadpool merchandise; shirt, jacket, underoos – pity they don’t make Deadpool pants yet - then: “Bodyslide by two.”
He opens his eyes to find that they’re in an alley somewhere he doesn’t recognise; he wasn’t thinking of anywhere when he said the words. Nate looks startled; though probably more to see him not wearing the Deadpool signature spandex than that he used their mutual teleport to find him.
“You’d better get it over with,” he says, looking all tortured-messiah.
“You’re a putz,” Wade replies flatly.
Nate blinks at him. “What?”
“You’re a putz.”
“Um. No killing? No decorating the alleyway with my internal organs?”
Wade rolls his eyes. “You still haven’t worked it out yet; you’re an even bigger putz.”
Nate shakes his head. Man, is he thick. He’s even more clueless than Mohinder, for god’s sake!
Wade can see he’s going to need to give the guy a little help. He takes a step towards him, hoping he’s called this right, grabs him round the neck, and kisses him. Nate stiffens at first in shock, but surprisingly quickly relaxes. Tongues are involved, and oooh, is that a hint of T.O. mesh Wade tastes? He hopes so. Well, no one could accuse him of not being a bit kinky.
They have to break apart eventually, what with the whole breathing thing. Wade was sure he could have kept going longer, healing factor and all, but he didn’t want Nate blacking out on him. Though it might be funny. He looks at Nate expectantly.
“Uh. So...” He’s obviously trying to work the whole thing out in his head, rearranging the pieces of the puzzle that he assembled all wrong. “You... liked it then?”
Wade shrugs. “Lube is for wimps.”