[ Hyperactive Wade couldn't seem to sit still long enough to let everything that's happened in the last month or so really sink in. There's a lot he's gone through, not all of it pretty. Some of it pleasant. ]
Yeah, well. I guess there was a me before I got here too. Had a whole fucking life here and I don't remember any of it.
[ Wade looks down at his finger trapped in Cable's grip and he tugs at it, experimentally. ]
Guess all Deadpools jump in with both feet. [ He's not necessarily proud of it. Not the type to be ashamed of it either. ] You're gonna want to color within the lines, Cable, these guys don't play — if they depower you, that virus of yours might go unchecked unless they have a way of hitting pause on it.
It's hard to imagine they had a taste of you once and came back for more.
[He teases, letting Wade's finger slip through his fingers and lowering his arm.
He can't hold back a tooth bearing grimace as he processes what Wade says. If they can take away powers, they're both decently fucked, but Cable's getting fucked hard.]
So we're supposed to just sit here with our thumbs up our asses? Until what? Until when?
[ Wade's brows pull up, eyes dropping down as if to say no one is as surprised as he is on that front. Wade shakes his hand, trying to get life back into the pins and needles that settled into his finger from that tight grip of his. ]
Make quota — their cute way of making sure we're all performing in our roles. Submissives aren't even able to pay for anything without a Dominant. And you're not supposed to go long without one contracted either.
[ As far as 'for how long' goes, Wade shrugs. ]
Some people have been here for three, four years? [ A pause, Wade's still lingering on the topic of that techno-virus. ]
Hey, I can ask my Dominant about that virus of yours, see if she can work her magic.
[ Wade puts out his hands, one of them brushing up against Cable's chest. It's not like he's going anywhere, they're still right in front of his door but Wade's trying to placate him. ]
Just think about it. That's all I ask.
[ Wade looks down at his hand and tries very hard not to remember how Cable's teeth felt against his neck. How that grumble painted hot, humid breath on his skin. Jesus, is he ever going to be able to look at him without thinking about sex? Probably not. Wade takes a little too long to pull his gaze back up again. ]
...Got anything to eat? [ He asks, abruptly. Jarringly. ]
[Cable points out, because even if Wade tries to pivot away he's still going to make his stance clear.
He then stares blankly at Wade as his gaze lingers uncomfortably long, which conveniently conceals the fact that his mind is starting to wander too. Why did Wade invite himself in anyway?
Cable turns to look into his apartment and shrugs.]
Don't they feed you or are you here to beg for scraps?
[ Ouch. Wade's mouth tugs down in a frown, but it's fine. Cable is a Summers, and they seem genetically predisposed to being stubborn. ]
Just curious. [ Wade lies, or rather, presents a change of subject in a desperate attempt to derail his own thoughts. ] Never been to a freshly minted Dominant's place. From the way they give you fuckers the white glove treatment, I figured they'd stock your shelves with the good shit.
[ Inviting himself in, Wade strides past, his head on a swivel as he helps himself out to a tour of an admittedly lavish apartment. When he lands on something that looks like a kitchen, he yanks open the fridge. ]
In the Down, we have the equivalent of a high school cafeteria, and it's as shitty as it sounds.
[ Wade returns with a bottle of beer in each hand. ]
Welcome to Shitsburg, by the way. You never did answer my question last I saw you.
[Cable's apartment is still extremely fresh and new, barely touched. Cable doesn't have a curious mind like Wade, apparently. He also just doesn't want any of it.
There are signs of life in here though, such as his jacket draped over a chair, his huge gun propped against a wall and his daughter's teddy bear safely kept on a shelf.
Cable accepts the beer and twists it open, frowning at Wade and maintaining eye contact as he swigs.]
[ Wade collides the narrow necks of their bottles together like they're not representative of shit, crowding into his space just a smidge more than appropriate. Wade tries so hard not to let that one moment define them and yet it's the only thing he can think of. Fuck. ]
The one about being quota partners, moose knuckle.
[ Wade says, darkly. He remembers that night with vivid detail, even as he empties the cool contents of that beer into his throat, he watches Cable from around the neck of that brown bottle. ]
If you'd rather it be anyone else, I wouldn't blame you. [ Wade always thinks it's him who is the problem, that someone wouldn't want him. But he also leaves an out. ] I'm just saying... it's not a problem for me.
[Cable makes a considering sound. It is infuriatingly neutral, he is neither disgusted nor enticed. This is because in his mind it was obvious that they had agreed on this.]
Why would it be a problem for me? We already did it.
[Again, his tone is flat and he's giving Wade nothing here.]
But I thought you didn't want to be the other woman.
[ Wade, eternally dwelling in that no-man's-land known by the unfuckable, reconsiders everything he knows of Cable and finds himself alone on a desolate island of questions. ]
Fuck off. [ Wade answers, distantly. He's not sure if Cable's being honest or merely performative. He stands there in the middle of his lavish apartment, bottle opened and foaming at the tip, undrunk. Wade can't look away from Cable's face as much as he needs to. He wants to hear it from him without the run-off, the aphro, whatever else might be clouding their judgment. ]
...And if I wanted to again? Say, tonight?
[ Wade already heard it before, now he's just searching for confirmation, the kind he always craves for. ]
[Still maintaining eye contact, Cable narrows his gaze and squints at Wade. His bottle rests on his lips for a moment before he tips in up, draining a considerable amount. Long enough to keep the tension in the room before he stops.]
[ Wade is slow to drink, spends too much time dwelling on how Cable meets his gaze in that discriminating, analytical way he does. Like he's measuring him, weighing him. Finding him wanting. It shouldn't turn him on but it always does.
Wade plays with the neck of his untouched bottle of beer, too distracted to sip from the bottle he opened and served up for two. He doesn't like how 'not getting enough of it' sounds accusatory, like he's not getting enough from those who matter, or that he's not worth it to those who should. He can tell he's being batted about like a toy. He just doesn't exactly know why it's Cable doing it. ]
No. [ He answers, defensively. His gaze scoots from the neck of his bottle to Cable, watching him taunt from halfway through his beer while Wade lingers in the wings to even taste his. Fuck, what is wrong with him? Can't he enjoy a single fucking commercial break of happiness without having to answer for it? Once? The tension is so thick that Wade finds himself tearing through it with far too much force when he demands: ] You wanna pretend you didn't like it?
[Cable says coldly, but he's aware he's entering an uncomfortable zone where being too aloof is probably going to hurt some feelings.
And he shouldn't care. But he does. A little.
He sets his almost empty bottle of beer down and moves to sink into an armchair that is way too soft for him. Finally, as an olive branch, he taps the arm of it to summon Wade closer.]
I'm asking you if you want it from me or if you need it from me?
[ Wade tracks him every step of the way until Cable drops himself into that chair and he feels himself drawn in by his own gravitational pull. Wade gives him his untouched beer by sliding it into his empty hand by the time Cable's gravitas draws him inevitably into his orbit. ]
...I don't know what the right answer is.
[ It's one of the most honest things he's said since he was tattooed and collared. ]
How bad is it that I want it?
[ Wade finally admits, but only when he's close enough to drop to his knees before Cable. He thinks maybe the collar is to blame, a lingering Pavlovian effect, making him want to obey, bow before his betters, but he's not even thinking of any of that. He's only thinking of Cable, who he is, what he means to Wade. What he's done to save him even when it costs him so dearly. ]
Am I allowed to want you? You can say no. I'd rather you say no.
[Says Cable, who has been laying intentional and unintentional landmines for them both to deal with since he got here.
He's also not really sure how he feels and he's definitely not sure how to be upfront or honest about it. The beer sliding in his hand goes almost unacknowledged until he starts to scratch idly at the label.]
I don't know what the fuck that means. [If Wade would rather he said no, is he not interested? Doing it out of obligation? Does that bother Cable? It feels like it does.]
I already said you're my type, didn't I?
[He's kind of joking and kind of seriously implying that comparing Wade to his dead wife was a true testament to his interest in him.]
If you want to make what we did a regular thing, it makes sense.
[Bluntly.]
If you're worried about my feelings, you're a fucking moron. [He looks up at Wade, visibly tired by this.]
Isn't this what people do here? Fuck? Does it need to be something on paper?
[ Cabel's delivery might be cold, callous... but it's exactly what Wade needs to hear. And like his designation, he slips neatly into Cable's hand like that beer does, and there's something fitting about how he instantly scratches the label off. Doesn't want a label on this either. Wade drifts into his orbit at 'my type' because it sounds a thousand times better than the rejection he was anticipating.
'Does it need to be something on paper' earns an emphatic no, except it's Wade shaking his head while he stands too close to where Cable sits, his knees bullying space on either side of the cushion Cable sits on as he sits himself onto his lap. hands grasping the back of his chair. ]
Ground rules, then? [ Wade manages, his throat dry. Out of all the encounters he's had, this one is the one that makes him nervous. What does it mean when someone's type is Wade fucking Wilson? ] This ain't Pretty Woman.
[ Wade settles on his thighs, hands smoothing up from the back of the chair over Cable's shoulders, his thumbs tracing the line of his jaw. He's asking about kissing, of all things. ]
[Cable sits motionless while Wade shifts and repositions himself around him like an overstimulated cat. When he finally settles on his lap, Cable looks up at him with a you done yet? expression.
He sets the beer bottle down on the coffee table beside him, but he doesn't move his hands to touch Wade yet.]
It sure as shit isn't. [He agrees, but he considers it. While he thinks, he catches Wade's wrist. He cannot be distracted while he is trying to develop an opinion of this.]
You mind your business and I'll mind mine. [He says finally, simply. His fingers twitch and finally, he rests a metal hand on the small of Wade's back.]
And neither of us are the other woman. Because this is nothing.
But Wade accepts it, because it defines a lot of his wild encounters, the very filthy baseline of his relationships with those he would have never otherwise had an opportunity to meet, let alone fuck. The city gives him gifts the multiverse never could have, up to and including this one. Wade holds his affection for Cable like a secret as he follows the strong line of his jaw with his thumbs, a thought interrupted when Cable snatches him by the wrist. ]
Okay. [ Wade relents, because trying to navigate this minefield is fucking exhausting. ] Can I fucking kiss you now? I can't cum without a little intimacy.
[ That's a lie, but a convenient one. Wade's already pushing forward, nosing past Cable's nose to try to kiss the corner of his mouth, to try to capture his lips in a more full one. He's got himself all turned on over nothing and now that he's in Cable's lap, he's having a hard time controlling himself. ]
[Cable says, as if he pulled it right from Wade's mind. Because he has analysed Wade enough. Also because he very pointedly did not kiss him and he came just fine before.
But what is intimacy anyway? A little frightening, apparently, since that one kiss to the corner of his mouth makes him more uncomfortable than Wade's whole ass in his lap. Not in an ew get off me way, it's just a weird twist in his gut. It feels like guilt, but guilt doesn't feel like the right word.
Whether or not he expresses it, he cares about Wade and he cares deeply. He doesn't have many people he cares about here or there or anywhere. Putting someone he cares about in this position is strange.
What's also strange is that Wade is intoxicatingly comforting to Cable. So, despite the grimace he pulls when he's kissed, he looks up at Wade through his eye lashes and moves his hand up to the back of his neck.
He presses down, leaning up and kissing almost experimentally. Like he's trying to taste something here.]
[ What's terrifying is Wade knows Cable cares. No one uses their one and only chance to get back home like he did. On someone fucking useless — someone who doesn't matter at all in his timeline, someone dead 50 years from now. Cable isn't the kind of guy who forms attachments. And yet, Wade wouldn't be here unless he did, and we're not just talking about in his fucking lap.
wade's fingers slide through the short, buzzy cut at the back of Cable's head as he kisses him like he wanted to before that run-off confused his nerve-endings and thought processes into nothing but animal fucking instinct and unbridled lust. Wade kisses him like he'd kiss Vanessa — with feeling, needy, like he craves this too much. It might be more intense than Cable wants, especially when he tries to feed him his tongue with a hungry moan.
Or maybe, just maybe, that's precisely what Cable needs, too. ]
[The kiss is a lot to take in, and not just because Wade is shoving his tongue in his mouth already. If it wasn't a complicated situation and if he weren't Cable, he might laugh a little at the intensity.
But he also leans into it, because this is much better than pussyfooting around with some smooches and chaste little tongue flicks. Cable grunts into the kiss, rejecting Wade's tongue from his mouth but only so he can lead the charge and shove his tongue in Wade's mouth. He pushes down on his neck again, pushing him closer.
This is probably the last thing he needs, honestly. What he needed to do is remind Wade that once they start tongue-fucking each other's mouths, life is going to get much more complicated. What he does instead is catch Wade's chin and rub his thumb over his bottom lip as he kisses him.
His other hand slips off Wade's neck, then the hand on Wade's chin gently pushes him out of the kiss so he can lean back in his chair and look up at him.]
You alright? [Because that was a lot. But he's not complaining and he's not pushing away-- it's a genuine check-in.]
Don't give me more than you want to give. [He adds, as a gentle warning. Suspecting Wade has a predilection for throwing everything at everyone whether he actually wants to or not-- and Cable wants him to want it-- but he can't say that.]
(cw: okay people should know by now that wade's mouth is nsfw)
[ Wade doesn't exactly fight the rejection, but there's a way he pushes and pulls in Cable's lap when he feels that hand yank him in and that tongue push him out, a wet sound as he feels Cable feed him his tongue instead, which he hungrily accepts. It's the kind of thing he should have expected from him, but doesn't, because this has never been their thing, outside of Wade's imagination and a palm of lotion in some lonely watch of the night.
Wade feels like he's looking at Cable with a dreamy, half-lidded gaze as he detects the unexpected tenderness of his touch to his scarred bottom lip. Takes a moment to process what's happening because Cable gives it to him. Wade nods, gathering his bottom lip under his teeth just to taste that lingering hint of beer he hasn't sampled unless it was off Cable's tongue. ]
Uh-huh.
[ Fuck. That's it. Wade can feel himself falling headlong into something completely reckless, all because Cable fucking checks in, leaving Wade without his last remaining excuse that there isn't something here. Wade's heart is pounding. Wade's hands slide down either side of Cable's neck, his hips riding up his thighs to press eagerly against his body. ]
Don't give me a free pass, I'll fucking use it. [ Wade takes a breath, and it's a greedy one, deep and heavy. All this works like Cupid's arrow right into his black, cancerous heart, and the most romantic thing Wade can manage is a lust-drunk: ] I want to ride your cock.
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Says the flirt making heavy eye contact while applying lip balm.
[ Wade sasses, pretending he didn't just drop his eyes to Cable's mouth for a moment there. Jesus, this is bad. ]
Technically, you might be right. I did kinda steal your time travel device to unfuck my timeline and get my girl back. But then I ended up here.
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[Cable repeats, just barely smirking. Even he's not really sure where he's going here.]
Thought you said you hadn't been here that long. Seems like you're settling in already.
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Yeah, well. I guess there was a me before I got here too. Had a whole fucking life here and I don't remember any of it.
[ Wade looks down at his finger trapped in Cable's grip and he tugs at it, experimentally. ]
Guess all Deadpools jump in with both feet. [ He's not necessarily proud of it. Not the type to be ashamed of it either. ] You're gonna want to color within the lines, Cable, these guys don't play — if they depower you, that virus of yours might go unchecked unless they have a way of hitting pause on it.
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[He teases, letting Wade's finger slip through his fingers and lowering his arm.
He can't hold back a tooth bearing grimace as he processes what Wade says. If they can take away powers, they're both decently fucked, but Cable's getting fucked hard.]
So we're supposed to just sit here with our thumbs up our asses? Until what? Until when?
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[ Wade's brows pull up, eyes dropping down as if to say no one is as surprised as he is on that front. Wade shakes his hand, trying to get life back into the pins and needles that settled into his finger from that tight grip of his. ]
Make quota — their cute way of making sure we're all performing in our roles. Submissives aren't even able to pay for anything without a Dominant. And you're not supposed to go long without one contracted either.
[ As far as 'for how long' goes, Wade shrugs. ]
Some people have been here for three, four years? [ A pause, Wade's still lingering on the topic of that techno-virus. ]
Hey, I can ask my Dominant about that virus of yours, see if she can work her magic.
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Whatever it is passes and he mutters:]
I'll figure it out.
[He's met...reasonable people here. None he'd trust with his life, but some he'd trust for a reliable fuck. Not much more.]
No. [Firmly.] I don't need her help.
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[ Wade puts out his hands, one of them brushing up against Cable's chest. It's not like he's going anywhere, they're still right in front of his door but Wade's trying to placate him. ]
Just think about it. That's all I ask.
[ Wade looks down at his hand and tries very hard not to remember how Cable's teeth felt against his neck. How that grumble painted hot, humid breath on his skin. Jesus, is he ever going to be able to look at him without thinking about sex? Probably not. Wade takes a little too long to pull his gaze back up again. ]
...Got anything to eat? [ He asks, abruptly. Jarringly. ]
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[Cable points out, because even if Wade tries to pivot away he's still going to make his stance clear.
He then stares blankly at Wade as his gaze lingers uncomfortably long, which conveniently conceals the fact that his mind is starting to wander too. Why did Wade invite himself in anyway?
Cable turns to look into his apartment and shrugs.]
Don't they feed you or are you here to beg for scraps?
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Just curious. [ Wade lies, or rather, presents a change of subject in a desperate attempt to derail his own thoughts. ] Never been to a freshly minted Dominant's place. From the way they give you fuckers the white glove treatment, I figured they'd stock your shelves with the good shit.
[ Inviting himself in, Wade strides past, his head on a swivel as he helps himself out to a tour of an admittedly lavish apartment. When he lands on something that looks like a kitchen, he yanks open the fridge. ]
In the Down, we have the equivalent of a high school cafeteria, and it's as shitty as it sounds.
[ Wade returns with a bottle of beer in each hand. ]
Welcome to Shitsburg, by the way. You never did answer my question last I saw you.
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There are signs of life in here though, such as his jacket draped over a chair, his huge gun propped against a wall and his daughter's teddy bear safely kept on a shelf.
Cable accepts the beer and twists it open, frowning at Wade and maintaining eye contact as he swigs.]
What question?
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The one about being quota partners, moose knuckle.
[ Wade says, darkly. He remembers that night with vivid detail, even as he empties the cool contents of that beer into his throat, he watches Cable from around the neck of that brown bottle. ]
If you'd rather it be anyone else, I wouldn't blame you. [ Wade always thinks it's him who is the problem, that someone wouldn't want him. But he also leaves an out. ] I'm just saying... it's not a problem for me.
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[Cable makes a considering sound. It is infuriatingly neutral, he is neither disgusted nor enticed. This is because in his mind it was obvious that they had agreed on this.]
Why would it be a problem for me? We already did it.
[Again, his tone is flat and he's giving Wade nothing here.]
But I thought you didn't want to be the other woman.
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Fuck off. [ Wade answers, distantly. He's not sure if Cable's being honest or merely performative. He stands there in the middle of his lavish apartment, bottle opened and foaming at the tip, undrunk. Wade can't look away from Cable's face as much as he needs to. He wants to hear it from him without the run-off, the aphro, whatever else might be clouding their judgment. ]
...And if I wanted to again? Say, tonight?
[ Wade already heard it before, now he's just searching for confirmation, the kind he always craves for. ]
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Is that what you're here for?
[He swigs his drink again.]
Not getting enough of it from your people?
[Is it ever enough for Wade?]
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Wade plays with the neck of his untouched bottle of beer, too distracted to sip from the bottle he opened and served up for two. He doesn't like how 'not getting enough of it' sounds accusatory, like he's not getting enough from those who matter, or that he's not worth it to those who should. He can tell he's being batted about like a toy. He just doesn't exactly know why it's Cable doing it. ]
No. [ He answers, defensively. His gaze scoots from the neck of his bottle to Cable, watching him taunt from halfway through his beer while Wade lingers in the wings to even taste his. Fuck, what is wrong with him? Can't he enjoy a single fucking commercial break of happiness without having to answer for it? Once? The tension is so thick that Wade finds himself tearing through it with far too much force when he demands: ] You wanna pretend you didn't like it?
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[Cable says coldly, but he's aware he's entering an uncomfortable zone where being too aloof is probably going to hurt some feelings.
And he shouldn't care. But he does. A little.
He sets his almost empty bottle of beer down and moves to sink into an armchair that is way too soft for him. Finally, as an olive branch, he taps the arm of it to summon Wade closer.]
I'm asking you if you want it from me or if you need it from me?
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...I don't know what the right answer is.
[ It's one of the most honest things he's said since he was tattooed and collared. ]
How bad is it that I want it?
[ Wade finally admits, but only when he's close enough to drop to his knees before Cable. He thinks maybe the collar is to blame, a lingering Pavlovian effect, making him want to obey, bow before his betters, but he's not even thinking of any of that. He's only thinking of Cable, who he is, what he means to Wade. What he's done to save him even when it costs him so dearly. ]
Am I allowed to want you? You can say no. I'd rather you say no.
[ Only if you meant it. ]
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[Says Cable, who has been laying intentional and unintentional landmines for them both to deal with since he got here.
He's also not really sure how he feels and he's definitely not sure how to be upfront or honest about it. The beer sliding in his hand goes almost unacknowledged until he starts to scratch idly at the label.]
I don't know what the fuck that means. [If Wade would rather he said no, is he not interested? Doing it out of obligation? Does that bother Cable? It feels like it does.]
I already said you're my type, didn't I?
[He's kind of joking and kind of seriously implying that comparing Wade to his dead wife was a true testament to his interest in him.]
If you want to make what we did a regular thing, it makes sense.
[Bluntly.]
If you're worried about my feelings, you're a fucking moron. [He looks up at Wade, visibly tired by this.]
Isn't this what people do here? Fuck? Does it need to be something on paper?
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'Does it need to be something on paper' earns an emphatic no, except it's Wade shaking his head while he stands too close to where Cable sits, his knees bullying space on either side of the cushion Cable sits on as he sits himself onto his lap. hands grasping the back of his chair. ]
Ground rules, then? [ Wade manages, his throat dry. Out of all the encounters he's had, this one is the one that makes him nervous. What does it mean when someone's type is Wade fucking Wilson? ] This ain't Pretty Woman.
[ Wade settles on his thighs, hands smoothing up from the back of the chair over Cable's shoulders, his thumbs tracing the line of his jaw. He's asking about kissing, of all things. ]
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He sets the beer bottle down on the coffee table beside him, but he doesn't move his hands to touch Wade yet.]
It sure as shit isn't. [He agrees, but he considers it. While he thinks, he catches Wade's wrist. He cannot be distracted while he is trying to develop an opinion of this.]
You mind your business and I'll mind mine. [He says finally, simply. His fingers twitch and finally, he rests a metal hand on the small of Wade's back.]
And neither of us are the other woman. Because this is nothing.
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But Wade accepts it, because it defines a lot of his wild encounters, the very filthy baseline of his relationships with those he would have never otherwise had an opportunity to meet, let alone fuck. The city gives him gifts the multiverse never could have, up to and including this one. Wade holds his affection for Cable like a secret as he follows the strong line of his jaw with his thumbs, a thought interrupted when Cable snatches him by the wrist. ]
Okay. [ Wade relents, because trying to navigate this minefield is fucking exhausting. ] Can I fucking kiss you now? I can't cum without a little intimacy.
[ That's a lie, but a convenient one. Wade's already pushing forward, nosing past Cable's nose to try to kiss the corner of his mouth, to try to capture his lips in a more full one. He's got himself all turned on over nothing and now that he's in Cable's lap, he's having a hard time controlling himself. ]
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[Cable says, as if he pulled it right from Wade's mind. Because he has analysed Wade enough. Also because he very pointedly did not kiss him and he came just fine before.
But what is intimacy anyway? A little frightening, apparently, since that one kiss to the corner of his mouth makes him more uncomfortable than Wade's whole ass in his lap. Not in an ew get off me way, it's just a weird twist in his gut. It feels like guilt, but guilt doesn't feel like the right word.
Whether or not he expresses it, he cares about Wade and he cares deeply. He doesn't have many people he cares about here or there or anywhere. Putting someone he cares about in this position is strange.
What's also strange is that Wade is intoxicatingly comforting to Cable. So, despite the grimace he pulls when he's kissed, he looks up at Wade through his eye lashes and moves his hand up to the back of his neck.
He presses down, leaning up and kissing almost experimentally. Like he's trying to taste something here.]
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[ What's terrifying is Wade knows Cable cares. No one uses their one and only chance to get back home like he did. On someone fucking useless — someone who doesn't matter at all in his timeline, someone dead 50 years from now. Cable isn't the kind of guy who forms attachments. And yet, Wade wouldn't be here unless he did, and we're not just talking about in his fucking lap.
wade's fingers slide through the short, buzzy cut at the back of Cable's head as he kisses him like he wanted to before that run-off confused his nerve-endings and thought processes into nothing but animal fucking instinct and unbridled lust. Wade kisses him like he'd kiss Vanessa — with feeling, needy, like he craves this too much. It might be more intense than Cable wants, especially when he tries to feed him his tongue with a hungry moan.
Or maybe, just maybe, that's precisely what Cable needs, too. ]
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But he also leans into it, because this is much better than pussyfooting around with some smooches and chaste little tongue flicks. Cable grunts into the kiss, rejecting Wade's tongue from his mouth but only so he can lead the charge and shove his tongue in Wade's mouth. He pushes down on his neck again, pushing him closer.
This is probably the last thing he needs, honestly. What he needed to do is remind Wade that once they start tongue-fucking each other's mouths, life is going to get much more complicated. What he does instead is catch Wade's chin and rub his thumb over his bottom lip as he kisses him.
His other hand slips off Wade's neck, then the hand on Wade's chin gently pushes him out of the kiss so he can lean back in his chair and look up at him.]
You alright? [Because that was a lot. But he's not complaining and he's not pushing away-- it's a genuine check-in.]
Don't give me more than you want to give. [He adds, as a gentle warning. Suspecting Wade has a predilection for throwing everything at everyone whether he actually wants to or not-- and Cable wants him to want it-- but he can't say that.]
(cw: okay people should know by now that wade's mouth is nsfw)
Wade feels like he's looking at Cable with a dreamy, half-lidded gaze as he detects the unexpected tenderness of his touch to his scarred bottom lip. Takes a moment to process what's happening because Cable gives it to him. Wade nods, gathering his bottom lip under his teeth just to taste that lingering hint of beer he hasn't sampled unless it was off Cable's tongue. ]
Uh-huh.
[ Fuck. That's it. Wade can feel himself falling headlong into something completely reckless, all because Cable fucking checks in, leaving Wade without his last remaining excuse that there isn't something here. Wade's heart is pounding. Wade's hands slide down either side of Cable's neck, his hips riding up his thighs to press eagerly against his body. ]
Don't give me a free pass, I'll fucking use it. [ Wade takes a breath, and it's a greedy one, deep and heavy. All this works like Cupid's arrow right into his black, cancerous heart, and the most romantic thing Wade can manage is a lust-drunk: ] I want to ride your cock.
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wade's being dismantled live on national news
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