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You Could Have Just Asked

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Nate grimaces and opts to ignore the overeager exclamation, focusing intently on the papers in front of him instead.

“Cable! Cable, Cable, Cable, Cable!!!”

A pause allows him exactly fifteen seconds of blessed silence before the chanting starts back up again.

“Nate! Nathan! Nathan Dayspring Askani’son Neck Bone’s Connected to the Shin Bone Summers!” He waits a beat. “Are you ignoring me because I have no concept of proper anatomy? Because I swear I was kidding… Nate? NateNateNateNateNateNateNate!”

Nate has to try very hard not to fling Wade against the wall. In fact, he’s surprised his TK hasn’t already followed through on the thought, but he has better control than that and he manages to abstain. Instead he sighs resignedly turning to face the annoying merc who is practically lying across his desk.

“Yes Wade, what is it?” he says as patiently as he can. He doesn’t really have time to waste at the moment as there are several documents that Irene had stressed were of great importance and required his full and immediate attention. She had stated this with her patented no nonsense look, and the tone of voice that told him he’d be facing the full brunt of her wrath if he so much as left his desk for a bathroom break.

“Ah, you can hear me. I was worried I was going to have to break out my trusty Q tip! That or smack you a few times like a tv to get you working again,” Wade says, now fully lying on top of some important papers, his chin resting in his hands and feet kicking merrily behind him.

“And see, it would make sense right? Because of the whole Cable/cable connection,” Wade laughs, and despite his annoyance, Nate nearly smiles.

“What do you want Wade,” he asks instead with a long suffering sigh.

He wonders if he can liberate one of the folders he needs from under Wade, but decides that he’d rather not face a blow to the head as Wade screams about appropriate forms of heterosexual touching like he had the week before when Nate had pinned him down for too long during a sparring session.

Thinking about Wade pinned beneath him, gasping from exertion and squirming deliciously is the last thing Nate needs to be doing at the moment, especially in his office with the man lying mere inches away from him. He’ll just have to store those thoughts away for later contemplation.

He wishes Wade were easier to understand. It’s clear the man is interested in him, both sexually and romantically, but there always seems to be something in the way. Whether it’s ingrained twenty first century ideology about homosexual relationships, or something else entirely he has no idea (which is beyond frustrating to a telepath whose used to spotting and dismantling boundaries in an instant). But whatever the cause Nate tries his best to downplay his own obvious interest in the hope of avoiding being too off-putting to Wade. That being said, it doesn’t make his frustration, sexual or otherwise, any easier to bear.

“Can’t I just drop in to see my best buddy once in a while?” Wade asks, wiping a mystery substance off of his gloved hand onto a requisition form. Nate snatches it up by the corner, wrinkling his nose as he surveys the damage.

“Not when I’m this busy,” he replies tersely.

“Oh,” Wade’s face falls almost imperceptibly and his smile takes a second to flicker back onto his face, only slightly duller than it had been just moments before. Though he’s not entirely sure what he’s done wrong Nate feels mildly annoyed at himself for whatever it is that made Wade’s easy smile fade.

“Well you’re stuck with me ‘cause Prester John said I needed to find myself a job, and since your happy hippie compound isn’t bursting with opportunities for a hardworking merc, I figured I could be your personal assistant!” Wade grins proudly at the exclamation.

“I already have Irene,” Nate points out, wincing as he imagines her disdain at being called by anything but her official title, but as usual Wade takes it in stride.

“Okay…Uh, Chief Executive of-”


“What about Food Procurer?”

“Wade…” Nate says tiredly, but the man keeps going.

“Okay… Gardner! No? How about Coffee Bitch? Flamingo Rangler? Masseuse?” He pauses awkwardly as they both consider the implications of that last option.

“I’ve got a Masseuse too Wade,” he says with a tinge of regret.

“Throw me a bone here Nate. I’m bored, and no one wants me hanging around their ‘family establishments’ and I just need to do something, you know?” Wade rushes through the words, sitting up abruptly. He looks frustrated, although Nate’s never been good with body language, and he takes a moment to imagine how hard it must be for Wade to be living on Providence, obeying the rules and spending his days idly watching tv and wandering aimlessly around the island.

“Fine, Irene hates filing, why don’t you do it for her?” he asks, certain that Wade will get bored within thirty seconds and leave to torture someone else.

Wade looks less than thrilled, but he tries to make the best of it, hopping off of the desk, finally freeing Nate’s now crumpled documents.

“A chance to earn brownie points with Miss. Merryweather? I’m all over that! I can already feel the romance. After a day filled with my conversational wit and manly presence how could she resist me?”

“The filing cabinet is in here Wade,” Nate says patiently, realizing barely a second before Wade does what that means.

“Oh. Oh! BFF day! We’re gonna have so much fun!!” Wade says with an evil grin. Cable has no doubt that Wade knows exactly how much he’s looking forward to it.

Perhaps Irene would be willing to reconsider her no leaving rule he thinks, as Wade dances over to the filing cabinet gleefully.

Wade’s incessant chatter is easy enough to tune out after about half an hour, and he doesn’t seem to require any answers to the odd questions he throws out, so Nate manages to get at least half of his work done. Even the brief outburst over a paper cut, and the subsequent abuse of the filing cabinet had been easy enough to deal with once he had telekinetically restrained Wade from kicking it out of shape.

“Lemme go Nate, I gotta teach it a lesson. You messed with the wrong guy you ugly mother- ow Nate don’t shake me like that! I’m wounded!” He brandishes his finger at him as proof, but the cut is already gone.

“Huh. Guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Wade says with a shrug. “Why do paper cuts always hurt so much? Seriously, that was worse than that time I took a dip in a vat of acid. At least I got to do the breast stroke that time,” Wade demonstrates in mid air, although the grabby hands are an unfortunate flaw in his technique. “Well… until my skin melted off that is.”

“Wade. Please stop abusing my filing cabinet,” Nate says, lowering him back down to the ground. Wade’s grasping hands are now level with his chest, but that doesn’t seem to faze the man, who continues happily, mumbling about man bazookas and video games. Nate has to bite down on a laugh and make sure his serious face doesn’t slip as he shakes his head.

“I’m not sure filing is the job for you,” he says, and Wade performs a celebratory spin, whooping happily.

“Thank you! That was horrible. I almost lit that damn pile on fire… not that I’d do something like that,” he backtracks quickly as Nate frowns at him.

“So what do you want me to do? Oh! I can clean your office! Give me two secs and I can get a French maid outfit…”

The thought is a nice one, and Nate is sorely tempted to agree, but he’s not sure how well he’d be able to control himself with Wade prancing around in feminine attire. His self-restraint can only be so strong against seeing him with just a scrap of lace covering those shapely thighs…

“No,” he says quickly. “That’s… not necessary.”

An idea suddenly dawns, and the half abandoned strands of strategy in his mind begin to knit together with ease. There’s been such a level of peace recently that now is the time, if ever, to take a selfish moment and finally get somewhere in his relationship with Wade.

Wade who is pouting, one hip cocked out in a gracefully feminine sort of way. “Someday Nate. Someday I’ll wear that maid costume… just you wait.”

“I have no doubt,” he says solemnly. “But for now, I think I’ve found an opportunity for employment if you’re game?”

“Please please please say we’re going to kill someone,” Wade pleads, biting his lip expectantly.

“Yes Wade, we’re going to kill someone,” he replies, and smiles as Wade literally jumps for joy.


They meet in his office again the next day to go over the plan.

“So who are we killing again?” Wade asks, bouncing on his heels.

“We went over this yesterday Wade.”

“Yeah, I know. But I gotta ask again for the purposes of exposition. Also, I kinda tuned you out…” His grin isn’t remotely sheepish, but Nate can pretend. Wade flicks out a dagger and starts flipping it casually, catching it at the base after each twirl.

“His name is Vladimir Scélérat,” Nate tells him again, and if Wade notices any incongruity about the name he doesn’t say a word. “He’s got his hand in almost everything: sex trafficking, drugs, arms dealing…”

“Gotcha, bad stuff. Bad man. We get to kill him for real right?” Wade asks impatiently.

“Possibly. I need to speak with him face to face first, but it’s very likely he will remain resistant, and he’s too much of a threat to Providence for me to-”

“Ow! Damn it! Stabbed myself again,” Wade whines, bleeding all over the surface Nate’s pristine desk.

Wade is making this almost too easy by barely paying attention, but Nate had expected as much. He would never have pulled such a facetious move with the man’s name if he wasn’t sure Deadpool would be more interested in the ‘how’ of the killing than the ‘why.’

“Irene’s going to kill you if you don’t stop bleeding on the furniture,” he reminds him, and Wade immediately cups a hand to catch some of the blood dripping down. Nate smirks at him.

“You’re scared of her too,” Wade says defensively, sticking out his tongue. Nate doesn’t argue, just gestures to the door.

“After you,” he says, and Wade laughs, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Why Nate, aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” he replies, fluttering his non-existent eyelashes and sashaying past him into the hallway.

The trip is then delayed ten minutes when Wade raises a hand to say hello and spills his blood all over Irene’s desk as well.

“I want a pay raise,” she steams, pulling Kleenex from a box in a frenzy as Wade bolts away.

“Alright,” Nate replies evenly. “Thanks again by the way.” And then he’s gone leaving Irene to grumble to herself angrily.

“Idiots, the both of them.”


A short bodyslide later they find themselves near an abandoned looking warehouse, all decrepit and weather beaten. In other words the perfect headquarters for a scumbag.

“Always with the dirty old warehouses. Couldn’t they just once conduct business from their swanky mansion in Miami or something?” Wade asks, though he looks fairly excited at the prospect of a real fight. It’s really been far too long, and sometimes he gets urges. Don’t judge.

Nate is silent and grim looking, surveying the perimeter. “No guards,” he comments with a strangely frustrated looking glower. “Oh and by the way, I’d appreciate it if you tried to keep the killing to a minimum. That is to say don’t kill anyone… at least until we reach Scélérat.”

“Aww you’re no fun,” Wade whines petulantly putting up an obligatory fight, before reluctantly agreeing.

“What’s the plan Stan?” Wade finally asks, making sure the safety is off on all his most exciting weapons. “We gonna charge in there and take it by storm, or were you thinking of snooping around peeping Tom style for a bit?”

A guard meanders around the corner, though Nate judges it’ll be at least a few seconds before he’s in position to spot them.

He smiles slowly. “Let’s take it by storm.”

And with that Wade is off, streaking towards the heavily armed man with a whistle and a singsong of “Yoohoo! Over here! I’m coming to mess your shit up, better stop me!”

Nate follows more slowly, watching as Wade easily dispatches the man with a well placed kick and a katana strike to the knees.

“Kneel before Zod!” he shouts as the man goes down. “What? Too DC for you? Okay fine… kneel before Todd! See what I did there? Who doesn’t love Supernatural am I right?” The man can’t hear him, having been knocked out cold by well delivered blow to the head by Nathan.

“At least wait until I’m done with my pop-culture references Nate!” Wade pouts. Fortunately for him a wave of men race around the building providing him with a brand new audience to torment.

“Ahh this is the life,” he tells one goon as he rearranges his face. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this. Providence is swell and all, but nothing beats a low down dirty brawl. See, even Nate’s having fun!”

Nathan has two men trapped in his telekinetic field, bashing them together to take out two birds with one stone. Meanwhile Wade is swatting men like flies, excitedly chatting their ears off as he does.

“Where’s your boss?” he asks one man, having trapped his arms securely behind his back. The man struggles, but a blade pressed to his throat deals with that pesky problem and has the added bonus of making him talk, sputtering and wincing away from the knife. “Uh, upstairs! He’s upstairs!” he gasps, and Wade gives the side of his head a quick kiss. “See was that so hard?” he asks, patting him on the back as he lets him go.

The man immediately spins around, trying to land a blow or two, which Wade blocks with ease.

“Whoa, helloooo ugly. And I thought I was scary looking! You’ve got a face like hamburger meat,” Wade quips, flipping said ugly minion over his shoulder to land flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him.

“But you!” he croons, setting his sights on a man approaching wielding a sword. “You’re downright pretty. Get yourself a pair of boobs and you’d be set, let me tell you.” He disarms him easily, and jams the tapered hilt of the sword into the dirt.

They grapple together for a second before Wade grips him in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides like a vice. “In fact, can I have this dance?” he asks maniacally, lifting the man and swirling around in an improvised waltz. “La da da, one two three, ah isn’t this nicer than fighting?” he asks.

“Put me down you goddamn freak!” the man screams. Wade frowns at him, displeased.

“And here I thought we were having such a nice time. Fine. If that’s how it’s gonna be, let’s finish this dance and get out of each other’s hair. Twirling around in a mad dizzy blur he stops suddenly, leaving the man in his arms woozy and disoriented.

“Time for the dip!” Wade shouts excitedly, and dips him down, allowing the blade of his upturned sword to sink into his side as the man screams in agony.

“It’s been a scream, really,” Wade adds, pulling up to let the man slump to the ground as he cackles evilly.

“Wade. Stop playing with your food,” Nate shouts to him, quickly and efficiently neutralizing the last of the threats around him.

Wade turns to beam at the other man picking himself up off the ground. “You hear that Hamburger Meat? Looks like you’re about to be my main course!” The man squawks and tries to run, but Wade is faster, flipping him again and pinning him to the ground.

“Oh no…oh, Hamburger Meat, you peed yourself. Bad boy,” he admonishes, strategically avoiding the wet spot that has appeared on the man’s pants. “Don’t be too hard on yourself Hammy, I pee myself all the time. When nature calls, sometimes you don’t got time to answer, am I right?”

“Wade,” Nate warns, taking care of the last man standing before him with ease. “Hurry up.”

“Nate can we keep this one? I know it’s ugly, but I kinda like him. Look how cute he is when he whimpers like that,” Wade gives him puppydog eyes which are uselessly obscured by his mask.

“Wade just knock him out if you like him so much, and lets move,” Nate sighs in exasperation.

“You hear that boy? I think he’s gonna let me keep you! You want a belly rub?” Wade asks with a chuckle. The man beneath him spits at him, saliva mixed with blood splattering onto his face.

“Gross! Bad dog,” Wade says, smashing his head against the ground and knocking him out cold. He stands up, rolling up his mask to get the blood away from his mouth.

“Maybe you’re right Nate,” Wade says sadly, springing to his side. “He’d make a horrible pet, and I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility yet. You’d end up having to feed him, and brush him and take care of him while I was off gallivanting, and that just wouldn’t be fair would it? And there’s no way I’m scooping up his-”

“Wade, we need to go,” Nate interrupts, breaking into a run with the assumption that Wade will follow.

“Okay okay, sheesh. Why is it always all work no play with you Mr. Killjoy? You not getting enough fiber in your diet or something? Cuz I think there’s a tea for that, I can get you some… okay I already have some and let me tell you…wait, where are you going?”

He stops running to turn and look at Nate as he hangs back. All the urgency has bled out of him as he stands patiently by a door that Wade had overlooked in his rush for the stairs. It’s a more than a little bit disorienting, especially considering all of the commands to hurry and the determined haste he’s been showing ever since they had arrived.

“Come in here,” Nate says, but it seems more like a question than a demand.

“Why? The bad guy’s upstairs… didn’t you hear Hamburger Meat before?” Wade asks, confused. He’s the one who has mood swings, not Nate. And this is no time to go all urban explorer on him.

“Just come with me Wade and I’ll explain everything.”

“Nate, what the hell? C’mon we got a guy to kill,” he tries a tad desperately. Nate is being weird, and that gives him that creepy crawly feeling in his stomach and that foreboding tingling in his arms (not exactly where Nate usually gives him the tingles), because Nate acting strange almost never ends well. It’s made ever worse when the man just smiles enigmatically and gestures towards the door in answer.

“Okay, now you’re just pissing me off, what the hell Nate?” his voice barely squeaks at all.

“Wade, we aren’t here to kill anyone,” Cable tells him.

In the silence that follows he notices that something is dripping somewhere in the warehouse and it’s starting to make Wade want to kill things really badly. Nate just stands there smiling, and he’s starting to get the feeling he’s being screwed with.

“What? Is this some sort of test? You messing with my brain again or something? Or did you just decide ‘hey I don’t think I want to kill the creepy bad guy today’ on a whim?”

“Wade, please just trust me,” Nate pleads gently.

“You know what I think Nate? I think you’re a big old softie,” Wade replies with a snarl. He’s freaking out a little, and he can’t help the impulse to get nasty when he feels threatened.

“That’s right, I’m calling you out. Can’t even kill a scumbag anymore can you? Sure, you’re all cold and calculating and…metallic on the outside, but inside I betcha you’re all fluffy kittens, and frilly doilies and tea par- mph”

Nate’s lips are as soft as he is. He probably uses chapstick, the big girl. Wade would tell him, but he’s a little busy dealing with the fact that Nate’s tongue is in his mouth.

“See. Soft,” he gasps as Nate pulls back, with that stupid, sexy, smug smile on his face (alliteration for the win).

“Maybe you’re right,” Nate says mildly.

“Maybe I’m…maybe I’m right? You’re like a puff pastry. You’re a half metal girlguide selling cookies to old ladies. You’re a…you know what?” Wade pauses in his diatribe suddenly, a look of awe dawning on his face. “I’m an idiot. Just kiss me again.”

Nate does. And it’s even better the second time, when he can actually pay attention to how it feels beyond the overwhelming wonder of the fact that Cable is kissing him.

“So, we’re calling off the killing for some kissing is what I’m gathering,” Wade breathes.

He is then treated to the absolute delight of seeing Nate look embarrassed. There’s even an honest to God pink tinge in his cheeks. Wade doesn’t know how yet, but he’s almost sure he’s gotten a leg up against him, and that’s almost as thrilling as all the kissing is.

“There was never going to be any killing Wade. This whole mission was a front,” he says, looking into Wade’s eyes. “I thought you’d like some time off Providence, and since fighting is your favourite thing, I set this day up.”

Wade blinks. Then blinks again just for effect.

“Wait, so, all those guys…they were actors? Oh my God did I just go all stabby on your actors?! Crap! I think I might have broken that one guys leg Nate! What the hell?!”

“No, they were mercenaries. I had Irene hire them. She wasn’t too pleased about it actually. I had to buy her a lot of presents to make up for it, but I made sure she got some of the worst of the bunch for you,” Nate tells him. “I thought you’d enjoy beating up some bad guys.”

“That is the most blatant disregard for human health and safety you’ve ever shown,” Wade says with wonder. “You’ve never been more attractive to me than you are right now,” he adds, wide eyed and feeling a bit misty. And then, because he suddenly realizes with a happy jolt that he can, he leans up and kisses him again.

Even stoic Nate is smiling when they pull away from each other. “Come,” he says, leading the way through the door.

“Nate, what the hell,” he asks when he enters the room. He must have fixed it up because the decor doesn’t match the rubble heap of an exterior at all. Instead he’s in a tastefully cream coloured dining hall, with a single table, complete with the kind of fancy white tablecloth he’s always dreamed of using as a hanky, a candlestick and fine china. There’s even three forks and two spoons.

“I- did you… has all this just been your messed up way of…of asking me out?” he asks, dumbfounded.

Nate nods.

“You gotta say it out loud for me here, and I just gotta let you know that even if you do I still probably won’t believe you,” he says desperately. This is too weird, and too fast and too much to handle.

“Wade, this was my extremely violent, extremely circuitous way of asking you out,” Nate supplies with a smile.

“But…but you don’t even like me like that!” he cries in disbelief. “Every time I flirt with you you go all cold emotionless soldier from the future on me!”

Now it’s Nate’s turn to blink in disbelief. “You seemed uncomfortable… I didn’t want to presume…”

“You should have presumed you ass!” Wade growls, stomping up to him again to demand an angry kiss.

Angry kisses turn out to be just as fun as the kisses that preceded them. Possibly better, because there’s a bit more force there, and Nate bites his lip, and the techno organic hand rises to cradle the back of his head.

“Dinner?” Nate asks once he’s kissed Wade senseless.

“Uh. Okay,” he replies, dazed. “But…after dinner… do you think we could…I mean do you want to… would you like to uh…sex?” he asks, a blush rising to his face.

Nate smirks that horrible, evil, really so very sexy smirk again. “Of course,” he purrs, and Wade nearly faints.

“Oh my God today has been the best day!!” he shouts, practically running over to the table to sit down.

“It really has,” Nate agrees as he joins Wade at a slightly slower pace and pops open the wine.


Wade eats dinner so fast that he would almost surely have gotten ill and been bed ridden if not for his healing factor. He also complains loudly and abrasively as Nate takes his time to savour the meal as well as the anticipation. He’s been imagining being able to touch, and kiss and please Wade for a long time now, even before he’d developed actual feelings for the man. Something about the way Wade fights has always impressed and aroused him.

The food really is delicious. Perhaps he shouldn’t have teased Wade with the prospect of sex after dinner if he wanted him to enjoy the meal. At least Wade appears to be more excited than nervous about the prospect.

“Nate you’re doing this on purpose and I hate you,” Wade grouches, kicking angrily at a leg of the table.

“I’m just enjoying my meal,” he replies, his eyes too wide and serious for Wade to believe him.

His teasing appears to be the last straw. Wade gestures angrily, unable to conjure words harsh enough before staring him down across the table.

“Bodyslide by two,” he says, enunciating clearly, and seconds later they find themselves in Nate’s private rooms.

“We didn’t even have dessert,” Nate says sadly as Wade hangs back awkwardly for a minute, looking him over.

“I thought you were dessert,” Wade replies with a wink, and the humour appears to give him the bravery to lean in and suck at his neck hard enough to leave a small mark.

“How could you possibly expect me sit there and just eat? Do you know long I’ve been waiting for this? We can eat later Nate. When we need to refuel,” Wade says suggestively. He begins to peel off Nate’s shirt, and Nate is extremely glad that he appears to be just as enthusiastic as he is about what they’re about to do.

“Can I remove your clothes?” Nate asks politely. Wade snorts unappealingly. “Seriously? Is this going to be like going to charm school? You gonna make me balance a book on my head while you do despicable things to me?”

Nate takes the hint, divesting him of his spandex with haste to reveal a pair of Spider-man boxers and long stretches of cancer ravaged skin. He captures his lips in a searing kiss again, partially to reassure him and partially because it’s hard to resist now that he can kiss Wade any time he wants.

“Huh,” Wade breathes as Nate nibbles down his jaw, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that.”

“Good,” Nate rumbles against the dip of his throat, licking a wet trail across his skin.

The boxers quickly make their leave as well, revealing that Wade is already getting hard from the prospect of what they are about to do alone.

Nate takes a step away to remove his own pants, though Wade never lets go of his arms.

“Oh yeah, the main event. Let’s see what you’re packing, because I have honestly spent a ridiculous amount of time on speculation,” Wade tells him. He only panics for a second afterwards before he remembers that he’s allowed to say things like that to Nate now. Wonders never cease.

Nate removes his pants, folding them and placing them off to the side on top of his shirt, bearing himself to Wade’s perusal.


“Hmm?” Nate repeats, shifting slightly, watching every nuance of the other man’s expression as Wade stares fixedly at the aforementioned point of interest below his waist.

“Hmmm,” Wade expands helpfully, tilting his head to the side as he continues to scrutinize his cock.

“What?” Nate asks, beginning to feel uncomfortable. He has to resist the urge to look down and check that everything is normal because with the way Wade is looking at him he would hardly be surprised to find his nether regions replaced by some sort of tentacled monster.

Unfortunately Wade’s face gives almost nothing away besides deep focus, and his body language remains unreadable as always, leaving Nate at a loss. He wishes, not for the first time, that Wade’s brain wasn’t an indecipherable soup of unintelligible images and sounds, and it irks him to no end to extend his telekinetic power instinctively and find nothing but a buzz of colourful noise to greet him.

“Well, no offence Nate but… I always imagined your mini Future Soldier would be….. well, bigger,” Wade finally offers with a half-smile.

Nate grunts, unimpressed. Trust Wade to make him sweat over what turns out to be an arbitrary comment on his size. “It’s served me just fine in the past,” he says testily.

“Hey there big guy, I’m not saying you don’t know how to use it, I’m just saying, you’re kind of huge, and lil’ Nate? Not so much,” Wade says in his most placatory tone, which frankly doesn’t make Nate feel much better.

“Not,” Wade says delicately, creeping forward, “that I’m complaining.” Deft fingers follow the trail of hair from Nate’s stomach down, down, and juuust a bit further down, “At all” Wade adds, fingers curling around him purposefully.

He grins triumphantly as Nate’s body begins to react, blood rushing south making him harden in Wade’s palm.

“All you do is complain,” Nate protests, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle.

Wade’s hand feels good, firm and steady and textured, and Nate’s hands reach to grip his shoulders of their own volition, kneading his flesh in time with Wade’s jerking movements.

“Surely that’s not all I do,” Wade responds facetiously. “Oh! Would you look at that. I’m gonna name your junk Hank Pym because look how it grooooows,” Wade laughs wickedly.

Kissing Wade is easier than trying to talk to him, especially as his unoccupied hand starts a an expedition in the which the main object is a thorough exploration of every inch of Nate’s skin. Scratch that, not just skin but TO too, and the way he digs his nails into one of the ridges sends such a jolt of pleasure through him that he finds himself moaning uncontrollably into Wade’s mouth.

Wade pulls back, and Nate doesn’t need to be able to read his twisting mind to see that he’s delighted. “Huh, sensitive metal. Don’t think that will ever get old.”

Thankfully Wade seems to be more interested in mapping the expanse of his metal arm with his tongue than resuming talking, and the sensations he causes are almost enough to make Nate forget that standing idly while Wade gets him off isn’t exactly what he had in mind for this encounter.

Right. He rouses himself from his complacent state. He needs to stick to the battle plan. Nate’s hands wander down Wade’s back, stopping to rub circles at the base of his spine. A hard bite to his TO shoulder makes him shudder as his hands slide down lower to grab handfuls of well-muscled ass.

He takes the choked noise Wade makes as proof that he is a tactical genius.

Wade’s hand falters, and Nate takes the opportunity to push him towards the bed despite the lamentable loss of the pleasurable stroking.

“Naaaate,” Wade whines as he flops backwards onto the bed, bouncing a few times as the springs groan in protest (could the bed handle what he was planning? Probably not, but he’d take his chances).

“Yes Wade?” He keeps his expression carefully neutral despite the urge to smile down at him.

“You’re looming. Stop looming. Come here,” Wade makes grabby hands and the corners of Nate’s lips twitch up against his will.

“I don’t know. You seemed disappointed before, something about me being too small…”

“No no no, not TOO small, just smaller than previously assumed. Besides, we’ve already established that Han-”

“If you call my penis Hank Pym, Ant Man, or any other variation we aren’t going through with this,” Nate says firmly, climbing onto the bed and straddling Wade’s thighs.

“…As I was saying, handling your equipment makes all the difference, I mean look at that,” Wade responds. His hand reaches forward again fingers skimming over his balls, dancing up to toy at the head of his cock experimentally. “You’re a grower,” Wade adds, beaming at him.

Kissing once again handles the issue of Wade’s motor mouth, and this time Nate has the added advantage of being able to grind down just so, making Wade twitch spasmodically beneath him.

“N-Nate,” he moans when they come up for air.

Wade’s toes curl as Nathan repeats the motion, and his hands claw at his back, nails making crescent shaped marks on the flesh side.

“Yo-your metal half’s cold,” Wade says to cover up his shiver as Nate’s left hand reaches between them to stroke them off together.

“Want me to switch hands?” he breathes. His eyes are lidded but he refuses to close them and block out the sight of Wade smiling, arching and gasping beneath him. The sight is absolutely stunning.

“No!” Wade cries, before coughing awkwardly. “I mean… nah, I’ll get used to it,” he recovers. Nate stores away Wade preference for his TO for later use and resumes kissing him until he can barely breathe.

“Do you want to, you know” Wade retrieves his hands from skimming over the muscles of Nate’s back to make a gesture with a finger and his other hand that’s hard to misinterpret.

“That’s up to you. I’m fine with just this if that’s all you want,” he says, drawing a thumb over the tops of both of their cocks as he says it.

“Uh. You have to promise never to use this against me but… I really really really want you to fuck me right now,” Wade whispers, barely loud enough to hear.

“Okay,” Nate replies watching with amusement as Wade tries to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling.

The lube floats out of the drawer, landing on the bed beside them and Wade swallows thickly. The swallow tapers off into a gasp as Nate uses his TK to prod gently at his hole, opening him up the tiniest bit, just to test.

“Warn a guy Nate,” he chokes, but his eyes are closed and his face betrays his pleasure as does the hand that shoves the lube into Nate’s own.

He stretches him, first with two fingers and then with three, watching happily as Wade proves to be everything he’s imagined and more as he squirms and pushes himself down on them, welcoming the stretching with soft little sighs and bitten back moans.

“Now now now now Nate,” he demands, his own hand reaching down to tug at his erection, sliding slippery with the precome he’s stolen from the tip.

Nate slicks himself up, using more lube than strictly necessary. There will be other nights to test what Wade likes most he hopes. Other nights to learn what he wants and exactly how he wants it, but for now it’s better to be safe and make sure Wade loves every second of this encounter.

“I’m not gonna get that metal std of your am I? Should we be using a condom here? I mean, healing factor makes pretty much any sex safe sex but…” The rambling seems to be more out of nerves than anything, so Nathan kisses him again, starting to think that kissing him might be his favourite thing in the world.

“Do you want me to use a condom? You won’t get the techno organic virus, but I can grab one if you’d like.”

Wade shakes his head. “I was just kidding. Hurry up, I’m dying here.”

Nate gives him one last kiss and lines himself up, sinking in with just the slightest bit of resistance that makes Wade feel almost too tight.

“Shh, Wade, relax,” he hisses, sinking in another inch or two. Wade frowns at him.

“I am relaxed,” he protests, experimentally rolling his hips and grinning madly at Nate’s deep moan.

He thrusts, following Wade’s promptings to first slow down, then go faster, and finally to “take it by storm” which wouldn’t have normally made him laugh, but buried deep inside Wade as he runs his fingers through his hair it’s difficult not to indulge him.

They move together, harder and faster, climbing closer and closer with each thrust until Nate pushes Wade’s hand away and takes over, making Wade come with a shout of his name.

“Holy… God Nate, that was so good. Keep going, feels nice,” he mutters when Nate’s thrusts slow almost to a stop. It only takes a few more thrusts and a deep kiss from Wade for him to reach release, moaning brokenly into Wade’s mouth.

Nate pulls out, catching his breath as he rolls over to lay beside Wade. Unpredictably the other man scoots closer, lifting his head so that Nate can wrap his human arm around his shoulders. He throws an arm across Nate’s broad chest and snuggles in, tangling their legs together as well and taking cuddling to a whole new level.

“You know you could have just asked me out on a date like a normal person,” Wade says as he presses tiny kisses to Nate’s chest.

“You didn’t like my method?” he asks. Wade stops kissing him and looks up.

“Of course I did. I got to beat the shit out of people, eat some swanky food and have sex with the saviour of the world all in one day. Not too shabby.”

Nate kisses the top of his head. “Then stop complaining,” he says affectionately.

Wade squeezes him tighter and glances up at him incredulously.

“Have you met me?”