||[Mar. 22nd, 2008|07:16 pm]
Cable x Deadpool
Title: Snuggles Are So Not Manly|
Rating: R? Somewhere in that high-up area.
Authors: The Great Reverend lainey_chan and the Mite Odd halfnorn.
Series: Comes a few days after 'Don't Believe The Narrative, It Lies' and an as-of-yet unpublished prequel. Which we still owe you guys.
Summary: It's the morning after. It wouldn't be the boys if there weren't... issues.
There was blood next to Wade's head. This... was odd. Not so much in that he wasn't used to seeing dried blood or anything, but more in the 'What the hell did I do last night?' kind of way. Then the heavy, metal arm across his chest shook him from any wonderings as last night came back into focus again.
His pants were aaaaallllll the way over on the other side of the room.
And there was still the matter of the arm on him to solve. Maybe if he was fast like Harrison Ford, he could replace himself with a pillow. And never talk about this ever again.
(God, was I really so gay last night?)
The answer? Yes. Yes he was. Because emotions and squishy feelings are gay. Which he so wasn't. He was simply bent toward sex with guys on occasion. If he was desperate. Or if the guy was Rob Lowe. (Rarraow! Oh, Rob Lowe. Making men question their sexuality since the eighties!)
And something was stirring.
No, not that, you dirty, dirty readers.
More like another arm moving slightly along as the large body it was attached to started to wake up. And promptly responded to this fact by pulling a pillow over its (main) head with the hand that wasn't occupied being draped over something. Nate made a little waking noise, then fell silent again.
Not quite ready to wake up yet.
(Oh, come on! Like that's playing fair!)
Sprawling was just hitting low. Wade had no resistance against sprawling, relaxed Nate! Though he'd never let him know this fact. Next time Nate wanted to go be Nate and suicidal, he'd just sprawl and Wade would have to agree. And throw things at him, but he'd be forced into agreeing.
He should say something here.
"Your bandage didn't bleed through!" Why yes, he just noticed.
And there was an eye opening underneath the pillow. "...What?" Nate managed. He could wake up quickly. Very quickly.
He just didn't really feel like it. Barring attack, of course.
No attacking, unless the body under his arm shifting to face toward him counted as an attack. In which case, Wade needed to sit Nate down and have a long talk with him about being overly paranoid.
Or not paranoid enough. One of them.
"It didn't bleed." A beat. "More. It didn't bleed more."
Nate pulled the pillow away from his head. Well, most of the way away. He took a moment to process the situation, declared it processed, and then noted, "Well, the T-O isn't quite a healing factor, but it works well enough..."
Processed in some way, anyway. The previous night was still mostly a haze of blood loss and exhaustion. Which didn't mean he was removing his arm. It was a good enough place for an arm to be, really.
Wade nodded sagely. For healing factors were his thing. Which meant he was allowed to nod sagely then.
Though he was mildly confused by the arm remaining. Shouldn't this be the point where they pretended sex didn't actually happen. Or that they did, but it didn't mean anything because this wasn't a relationship.
"Status quo!" He frowned at himself. "I'm pretty sure that was meant as part of an inner monologue."
It was entirely too early and Nate'd slept entirely too uncharacteristically long - it had been a long time since the last time Providence hadn't ran the risk of being attacked at any time of the day - to touch upon denial.
And really, the situation had escalated a little too much for that. Not that he was going to push. Early. He rubbed at his eye with his free hand and glanced at the clock.
"Early," he established.
Oooookay. Wade could do this small talk in the morning thing. Where they stayed in bed. And didn't have sex again before running off to do... stuff.
He could. Really.
"Yes. Yes, it is." What did normal people do in this situation? All he could think of was the theme from Three's Company. (Less than helpful, brain.) "And we haven't been attacked yet. Clearly we're in an alternate universe. If Irene shows up with a moustache, I'll punch her and we can run."
"We're not in an alternative universe, Wade." Nate pressed his free hand to the wall, rubbing absently at Wade's back. No aftershocks in the hull. Good. "Just the calm after the storm."
Hey! There was rubbing. Wade was kinda liking this.
"You say that now, but if we find out we're in some mirror universe where the good guys are evil and the bad guys are good, I'll have to say I told you so," Wade said, eyes closing and unconsciously leaning into the hand on his back.
Nate glanced away from the wall, dropping his other hand back on the bed. No frantic communications from Irene, either. That was almost new. He looked back at Wade, instead. "Depends who's defining good and evil that day."
"Poccy as the benevolent ruler of the earth. That work as crazy mirror universe for ya?" Wade asked, cracking one eye open.
Nate glanced over Wade's head and at the window. Early morning daylight. Yes, calm. "I don't think we've gotten to that point just yet," he offered.
"As long as it isn't Magneto. I'm not dealing with a baby you again," Wade said, closing his eye again. Light was baaaad. Almost as bad as talking.
So, he did what any reasonable person would do. He rolled slightly to
snuggle turn away from the light and oddly enough, closer to Nate. "Had enough of babies already, thanks."
Okay. More... snuggling. This took another minor Askani moment to process and then put aside. Not that it showed. In the process, he kept up the unconscious rubbing motion on Wade's back.
"That makes two of us." Even if Nate's baby-related misadventures were slightly different from Wade's, there. "Go figure."
And none of Nate's baby hijinks ended in him getting an arm through his chest. Or shooting himself in the head. Or ending up with some weird link with Nate. And... okay so now Wade was just bitching about these things.
"Shhh," Wade said, hooking a leg over Nate's. For... Balance? Yes, balance. "The girls will hear somehow and demand a little brother or something. It's your turn to have kids, you know. I'm never going through that hormonal crap ever again. Weasel still goes fetal position when I mention having a craving."
Nate's baby hijinks had just mostly involved being hunted down by every mutant and mutant-interest party on the entire globe, most notably his father, but really, these things just had a habit of escalating whenever he was around.
"I'm not having kids," he told Wade, moving his head over to the side - facing Wade - for emphasis. Just no. A world of no.
(And the editors breathed a sigh of relief.)
"Good!" Wade nodded seriously. "Scotty would have a heart attack. And, while that might be fun, the girls have grown attached." A beat. "And he's much better than a space pirate as their granddad. Damn space piracy."
"Damn space piracy."
Ah, deadpan agreement.
Nate's hand slid a little further down to Wade's side.
"Though it would enable the girls to scare the crap out of the Shi'Ar and their crazy hair," Wade said, taking the deadpan as it should be taken. As Nate humoring him. Which only meant he had to push the topic further into the absurd. "If they hook up with any Wolverine-looking aliens with swords worthy of a Final Fantasy game, I'm gonna have to start stabbing things."
That hand on Nate's chest? That was Wade getting comfortable again. Nothing more.
"Try not to hit anything too vital," Nate advised, keeping a straight face. This did not require any actual effort on his part.
Okay, there may have been some eau d'smirk.
"Stop smirking," Wade said, not even opening his eyes to confirm this. "And like you wouldn't get stabby over some alien Jimmy hitting on the girls."
"I wasn't smirking," Nate replied evenly. Then paused, giving the concept some actual, serious thought. "I'll have Irene set up a screening process."
Of course he would. Poor Irene.
"There was an internal smirk there."
"There was no smirk."
Why was he even arguing this?
Because they couldn't NOT argue something.
"So was," Wade shot back, running his hand down Nate's side idly.
"No." And Nate promptly let his metal hand drop to Wade's stomach.
Oh, well if he wanted to make this a competition...
Wade let his hand come to a stop on the curve of Nate's hip, rubbing his thumb against the skin there. "Liar, liar, pants on fire."
There was one very tactically sound way to win this one: Nate reached over with his other hand, curved it over Wade's neck, and kissed him to shut him up.
Which was just cheating. Really.
Wade tightened his grip on Nate's hip, moving up into the kiss for a moment. "Ha, I win. "
Pressing against Wade-- pushing at him to some extent, really-- Nate's hand slid down Wade's stomach. And then back up again, a moment later.
"Nope! I totally won," Wade replied, pulling him down for another kiss since a certain pushy messiah wasn't letting him sit up. "I'm telling everyone. Not that they'll believe me, but I still won."
Now that was just angling to get Nate competitive, really. That would be why he shifted over, moving his metal hand away to settle just past Wade's hip, and made a vaguely annoyed noise before kissing him again with all the force of a mildly annoyed soldier who'd just woken up to an argumentative mercenary.
It was somewhere in the lower echelons of force.
Oh, competitions between the two of them only end badly. Wade vaguely hoped Nate got the bed fixed so it wouldn't break this time around.
Smirking into the kiss, Wade put a hand on the back of Nate's neck, pulling him down. And slowly moving into a spot where he could flip their positions. Like he could let Nate take control again this morning.
Right now, though, he pressed closer, human hand skimming past Wade's side before settling on his thigh.
Slowly moving. Slowly-- Sloooowly---
Oh! Hand on his thigh! Wade frowned, biting on Nate's lower lip. "Stop distracting me from the plotting."
"You were plotting?" Nate asked, pulling away just a little. Then buried his face in Wade's neck, hand sliding inwards. "Hypocrite," he muttered into the skin, barely audible.
"Been hanging out with you too much," Wade said dismissively, baring his neck for more kissing there. He wasn't opposed to it. He was distracting Nate that way. Yes. All part of the plan.
He twisted his leg just so that it was in place should he need to move suddenly out from under Nate. And, of course, on top of him then.
And that, of course, was Nate's cue to move his hand just a little further up into the general inner thigh area. Not that he feared Wade's plotting much, but it was good to have an advantage.
He nipped at Wade's neck with almost no care at all. Or, at least, it seemed that way.
This could only end badly. Or with Cinemax after dark kind of results. Wade kinda hoped for the latter.
"Next thing you know--" Wade most certainly was not interrupted by hands in nice places. He just wanted to put a pause there for emphasis. "--I'll start being cryptic."
"Yes," Nate replied, lifting his head, "You might actually be heard." For once. Failing to wait for an answer, he cupped Wade instead.
Well, if this was the way things were going to go, Wade couldn't quite find fault with the position he was in. "And pre-" That was a small gasp, but Wade was going to pretend it didn't happen as he dug his fingers into Nate's shoulder. "-stop interrupting me when I'm mocking you!"
The smirk that followed really couldn't be denied by any party involved.
Nate wrapped his hand around the base, then jacked up. Once. "No."
"I'd call you Mirror-verse!Nate, but you're always this evil in bed," Wade said, annoyance in his voice even though he sooo wasn't going to complain about a handjob.
And then tilted his head back onto the bed, muttering under his breath. "Damn smirky bastard."
"This isn't evil." Argue, argue. The smirk did not vacate the premises as Nate started moving, slowly, slowly. In control was always a nice place to be.
Not if you were Wade! And lost all patience after five seconds.
And no matter how much he might act like a teenager, he was not about to accept this without any resistance. After a short pause, Wade moved, pushing up and hopefully over Nate. "You're just better at hiding the evil. Probably even have a goatee that you have to shave off so people don't know."
"Let's not start about--" Facial hair.
Not that Nate managed to finish that sentence. Fwumph. Oh, totally dumb.
Wade grinned down at him, waggling his eyebrows. "You were saying?" He asked politely, straddling Nate's hips easily.
Nate did not, in fact, look mildly surprised. That was just a trick of the light. "Don't mention facial hair." It had a lot of bad Stryfe-related connotations.
Rolling his eyes at Nate and his silly clone issues-- You never saw him get pissed over Hayden. Okay so you did, shut up. --he put his hands on Nate's shoulders to keep him pinned to the bed.
"Can I mention how it's not a good look for you? Or how John's moustache frightens me a little?" he asked, leaning over to kiss Nate's neck.
A variety of strategies were already forming in the back of Nate's mind. Well, one strategy, really. It was a very focused one-- okay, that wasn't too-- he moved his head back slightly. Legs free. Check. "It wasn't."
Wade moved on from his neck down to the T.O. The wonderful and sensitive T.O.
He really liked messing with Nate by focusing on that point. Biting down gently on the skin bordering it, he started to work on giving Nate another hickey. "Though I wouldn't turn down the opportunity to see your crazy long and luxurious hair in person. Seriously Nate, what kind of conditioner did you use in the future?"
Moving his legs just incrimentally so would bring Nate in the position for added leve--
The gasp that followed when teeth met sensitive skin was a little embarrassing, really. He shifted. "Nothing you'd know."
The gasp just encouraged Wade to keep up the good work. He shifted down slightly, working on the line between skin and metal on Nate's chest now. "Is it avocado? Or, as they say in Mexico, aquacato. I think it's a better word, really."
Who knew it was possible to lecture about avocados and tease Nate at the same time?
"Because that's a--" Oh, look. Slow exhale. "--Vital distinction."
One leg in position. The other... fell open slightly, unconsciously.
Playful little bites trailing down Nate's chest and stomach now. How had he neglected this part of the T.O.? It was a crime, really. "It is. Like the difference between olive oil and extra virgin olive oil. One's had sex and the other is a whore." A beat. "I think, I wasn't paying attention when Alton Brown explained it."
"You rarely do."
Because it was a good idea to get potshots in when you hadn't quite executed your master plan yet.
Shifting weight. Right.
...It could wait another few seconds.
"I resemble that remark!" Wade replied with a pout. But never quite pausing in his work on Nate's stomach and chest. always careful of the bandage that was there. It interrupted his attempts to lick the line though. Which was upsetting.
He tugged on the bottom of the bandage. "Think it can come off now?"
Well. So much for needing a master plan. Lacking at least one force of pressure on his shoulders, Nate shifted up a little to consider it. All business and no competition. In a way. Reaching inwards and checking-- "Yes."
Master plans didn't turn out so well, so it was good that he abandoned it now.
Grinning brightly at him, Wade leaned in close, searching under one of the pillows. It was there somewhere.
"Good, I have plans to achieve!" Wade said, twirling the knife between his fingers for a moment before slicing through the bandage. "Well plan. And it's really more of an idea than a plan."
"Which your plans usually are," Nate supplied, eyeing him with some amusement. He supported himself on his lower arms, breathing a little quicker than before, but nothing particularly visible.
Well, except for the hickeys. But he could ignore those.
Not if Wade had any say in this he couldn't!
"My plans are wonderful," Wade replied petulantly, pressing his lips against the newly exposed skin. "Better than your plans, at least."
"My plans are fine."
Nate's eyes closed, gasping quietly; he slid one newly freed hand down, settling it against Wade's head.
Oh yes, this was a damn good plan.
Wade smirked, licking up the line that separated flash and metal. "And usually end with you getting your dumb ass killed. Mine end in sex. Therefore, mine are better."
"They don't generally end--" This was-- nice. "Like..." Nate glanced down at Wade, his hand folding around the back of the skull. "--except in exceptional cases."
"They're all exceptional cases," Wade replied, pausing just for a moment before attacking Nate's poor chest again with light nips. He carefully avoided the places that had been the worst last night, running a gentle finger just barely over them.
Focusing on the injured parts? him? Never. That would imply he cared more about Nate's suicidal tendencies. And made him think back to last night. Couldn't have that!
"They're not," Nate replied, in a way that suggested some irritability. But failed on some level.
He tugged Wade's head up.
Well that got Wade's attention. "Pushy, pushy, pushy," He said, letting the subject of Nate's plans drop as he leaned in for a kiss. "Always gotta be your way."
"My way is better."
Because it was true. Nate pushed forward into the kiss, sliding his human hand back toward its old spot as the other curled out further along Wade's skull.
Wade went still, mind going briefly to the knife on the pillow nearby. Instead he bit down sharply on Nate's lip. Not quite to the point of drawing blood, but the threat was there.
So Nate pushed.
Literally. This time. He didn't back away an inch, opening his mouth just that-- tiny bit, moving past the pain, putting the pressure on. His hand lingered by the edge of Wade's stomach, fingertips pressing lightly into the flesh.
And Wade pushed back, hands on Nate's shoulders as he tightened his thighs on Nate's sides painfully.
Now really wasn't the time for Nate to get all aggressive about this. Not unless he wanted another fight as foreplay, in which case Wade was sadly not in the mood.
And wow, he never thought he'd say that!
Breaking loose, then, Nate focused his eyes on Wade's-- swimming with the kind of aggressive battle-readiness he was always preaching against. These days. And previous days. Except for that one-- span. It was something dark and murky, swimming underneath. The definition of getting lost in it, even if now, it was still shoved safely under a shield of control.
"Are you going to do something?" he asked. It was-- a myriad of possibilities of what he meant with that, really.
A darkness Wade recognized. Though it was usually in his own eyes, not Nate's these days.
"Don't treat me like a pet," He replied, anger not even being bothered to be concealed as his hands drifted up to Nate's neck. "And don't fucking think I'm going to sit here and agree with whatever you want."
It wasn't just the voice that held quiet certainty. Nate didn't seem like admitting that fact was anything weak or unexpected.
"Could've fooled me," Wade replied, searching his face for a lie.
There was still a trace of darkness in those eyes-- definitely a warning. But some of the fight seeped out of Nate's limbs. Faith. Have a little faith. With that in mind, he kept a steady gaze on Wade-- knowing he could flip this around any moment if he wanted to, but choosing not to. For the moment.
A warning. Just what someone wanted before having sex. Put Wade right in the mood.
"Find someone else to control today. I'm not in the mood," he said, pulling away and off of him.
Laying back on the bed, Nate still had a slight irregularity to his breathing. "I'm not controlling anyone, Wade," he said, caught somewhere between strong and steady, understanding and emotionally exhausted. "You made this call."
Wrong thing to say. This, in fact, prompted Wade to snatch the knife and whip it at Nate's groin. Because he could, really.
"Another bad decision in a long list of bad decisions," Wade hissed, not even looking back to see the knife be stopped by telekinesis. "Nothing new for me." He crossed the distance toward the bathroom to grab his pants.
"That's healthy," Nate established, with a coolness he didn't really feel. He'd--
Think of. Something.
Usual trade-off, the little voice of finite muttered in the back of his head.
"Yeah, I'm taking advice on what's healthy from someone who can't do anything without being in total control," Wade snapped, yanking the pants on and moving to grab the rest of his clothing and weapons. "Next time you feel the need to get off on your little power trips, leave me the hell out of it."
Nate should probably get the last word on that one. Probably.
He just didn't have the energy.
So he just stayed put.
Gear and clothing in place, Wade was out the window and heading back to his room without so much a glance back at him. He had enough of this shit before they started the sex part.