It's all very simple for Wade, really. If he can't stand to look at it, why should anyone else? And why, for that matter, would anyone even want to touch touch that, that...well, him unless they had an ulterior motive?
Yeah, there's all different kinds of kinks for every boy and girl, he knows that – even met this one chick who had a thing for Transformers porn (how did that even work? Do they have like a robo peen or something that then changes into a handy pair of curling tongs?), but yeah. No-one normal ever actually goes looking for the fugly
mercenary superhero guy to float off into the sunset with. He certainly doesn't. Kissing someone who looks like him? Eww. Barf bags for aisles 3-5 please. And don't be stingy with 'em either.
Nate keeps sighing, shaking his head, talking about superficialities, Wade being an idiot, and What's Underneath (ha! Well, he's twice as ugly underneath, so checkmate, bingo, and sank your battleship on that one pal.), but he knows it's all bull. Then Nate has to go and top it all off with that stupid freshly stomped puppy look, so Wade throws his hands up and makes a lame quip about the problems of being one of the beautiful people and kisses him just to shut him up. (What? Like that little trick only works one way?), and Nate does the sigh thing again, but drops the subject like a ton of bricks he's been lugging around all day.
So Wade turns on his side in the bed and pretends, wishing he could just cut off all the offensive bits of himself and that they wouldn't grow back rotten again. He's tried it a few times of course, same result. Often forgets about it entirely – after all, he's not some emo sparkly Dracula ferchrisssakes – he's got his own cool stuff to do, and he's pretty awesome at doing it too. It just kinda... y'know, sucks. And Jesus Humberto Christmas, he's thinking about all this whilst Nathan Fucking Summers is only inches away in the same bed. The same damn bed. As him! Wade likes to poke a finger into Nate's chest every now and then, just to check he's still -
'I'm still here, Wade.'
Nate looks at him and his brow knots.
'I'm not exactly what everyone would describe as a prize catch myself, you know.' Nate says, somehow reading that unreadable mind whilst resting a T.O hand over Wade's hip. It's warn and really smooth, and that's kinda weird because it's metal, but Wade likes the feeling more than he'd care to admit.
'Oh pu-lease. Stop trying to horn in on my patch would ya? Go get your own issues.' God knows Nate's got plenty to choose from. 'I hear Daddy Issues are hot right now, and it'll go nicely with the whole fake Jesus shtick you've got goin' on. Heh. Shtick. Good word.'
'Techno-organic features often make people deeply uncomfortable.' Nate pointedly reminds him.
Wade waves a hand dismissively. 'Yeah, well how about we both go for a naked jog across Times Square and see who'll make more folk 'uncomfortable' then, huh? Besides, you can totally tell people to bite your shiny metal ass. There's no wacky catchphrases about cancer, you know? I checked Google and everything.'
'This is not your own exclusive self-pity party.' Nathan's voice lowers almost down to a growl. 'So stop acting like such a damn hypocrite.' There is a sudden cool feeling as Nate's hand disappears, and the bed creaks as he turns on his side.
A hypocrite? Just because he perhaps totally has a thing for older men, and women, and maybe a small interest in the fuller figure, and sometimes a full on fling with the anthropomorphic personification of Death (hot skeleton chicks for the win), but thinks anyone wanting his scabby well-built bod is a chump, well that doesn't mean...
So maybe he is a hypocrite. And maybe Nate really does like him the way he is, messed up brain and everything. But then maybe, just maybe, this is just an elaborate way for Nate to keep him under control, because if Nate's willing to freakin' lobotomise himself for the possibility of mankind's shiny hippy future, he's sure as hell able to take one for the team from Deadpool if it means more of his precious pets don't get trampled on.
Wade stares at Nate's perfectly smooth back, and tugs his mask back on, closing his eyes.
It's okay though, He can pretend Nate wants it too.