[Cable & Deadpool] Let Slip the Dogs of War - Epilogue 2
I would usually include a summary in the header, but given the content of the last part, I felt that pointing at the rating should pretty much suffice. (Why yes I have just posted an epilogue longer than any single chapter of the actual fic. Whaaaat? >.>)
Title: Let Slip the Dogs of War
Characters/Pairing: Cable/Deadpool
Rating: NC-17
Chapter: Epilogue 2
Word Count: 4030
Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Epilogue 1
Wade was lounging by the doorway when Cable got back to his room, with too-obvious nonchalance that as good as said, 'What, me, run all the way here? 'Course not! I was just... nearby! And not because I've been loitering around this hallway all day, nosiree.' The way he was watching Cable approach, with edge-of-his-seat fascination that suggested he was trying to decide the best moment to pounce, didn't do much for his efforts to look relaxed either. While Cable wouldn't have been wholly averse to being pounced on under the circumstances, he found himself stopping just a little beyond arm's reach.
“Did you want to get something to eat first?” he offered, likely to be the one concession to tradition
either of them made all night.
“Uh, no,” said Wade. “Sex now, food later. How about more sex after that?”
After so many months of never finding the right moment to raise the subject with the old Wade, the directness was actually quite refreshing. “I can't say I'd planned that far.”
“I'm easy,” said Wade, following him into the room. The cleaners had done a thorough job restoring his room to its natural state - with the exception of the Deadpool-print sheets, which had merely been straightened and tucked in neatly, but if Wade noticed he gave no sign of being offended. “We can do sex, sex, then food, or how about...” He paused, realising Cable had stopped just inside the doorway. “Nate?”
Cable turned and pulled the door shut behind them. Finally alone and free of all other commitments, he treated himself to the luxury of giving Wade the kind of slow once-over that would have been borderline inappropriate with anyone else watching. The tight fabric of his costume hid most of the scars, but only accentuated the lean muscle of the body underneath. A good look on him - and a shame he still believed that the condition of his skin marred a physique like that beyond redemption. Nevertheless, the sooner they could get the costume out of the way, the better.
“Huh,” said Wade, sounding a little breathless, not the least oblivious to what Cable was thinking.
Cable let his smile widen, and stepped a little further into Wade's personal space. “How about we start at the top of that list. See how we go from there.”
“I like your plan,” Wade agreed, as Cable brought both hands to his neck, resting them just at the base of his mask.
“May I?” Cable asked, something he expected to be saying a lot tonight - after what Wade had been through, he couldn't be too careful.
“Uhh,” No matter how many times Wade had let Cable see his face before - sparring, hanging out or just to make a point, suddenly now he got nervous - like he'd just realised that cue to pounce had gone sailing past and he'd missed it, “so, uh, I was thinking maybe we could leave the mask on, or, halfway on? People tell me it's a good look on me...”
“Please, Wade,” Cable gathered the edge of the fabric in his fingers, not raising it without permission, but this was the one item he was going to push on. “I want to be able to look you in the eye while we do this.”
Wade fidgeted a bit. “Well, you put it that way...”
The mask came away without further resistance, revealing the face beneath centimetre by centimetre as Cable peeled it back. Scarred, yes, but not ugly by any standard Cable had any inclination to contemplate.
Kissing Wade was much better without it in the way.
Wade kissed back with more enthusiasm than anyone else in Cable's experience - with the matter of his face resolved, shyness was no longer a word with any place in Wade's dictionary. In a trice, Cable had both of Wade's arms wrapped tightly around his neck, then one of Wade's legs hooked around his waist to go with them, pressing the full length of that warm, hard body up against his own. Another second to sort out his balance, and Wade had his second leg hooked up beside the first. The weight wasn't more than Cable could support, hands going automatically to help hold him up, but he needn't have worried - the wiry tension he could feel in Wade's thighs proved him quite capable of holding himself up without assistance. He certainly had no objection to having Cable's hands suddenly all over his arse, though. The position meant Wade was now looking down slightly into the kiss (which seemed an insufficient term for what might have been better described as his eager experiments to see how far he could get his tongue down Cable's throat) - quite the novel experience for someone of Cable's height. Whether the way he kept grinding against Cable was the side-effect of or the ulterior-motive behind his apparent determination to try out every possible angle he could get at Cable's mouth with his own, Cable really did not mind. Getting his hands on Wade was living up to all expectations.
“So,” said Wade, coyly, when he finally came up for air, “is this 'wanna look you in the eye thing' gonna extend all the way to the part when you're fucking me through the mattress?”
Wade had dived for his ear before he gave Cable a chance to reply, so he missed seeing him frown. “I was going to ask if you wanted to top.”
“Ooooh,” Wade breathed, exploring what little stubble he could find on Cable's chin with his lips, “Put me down for one of those for next time. Got my heart set on being screwed into the South Pacific today.”
The trouble with that much body contact was that it didn't give you any leeway to tense up even slightly without the other partner noticing. Wade leaned back, and made use of his looking-you-in-the-eye privileges.
“Okay, what?” he said, not too harshly. “No way are you going to tell me you don't want to screw me through the mattress. I have a freaking proctologist's certificate that says otherwise. I know you're not War, but you can't be that different. Especially in those departments.”
A very deliberate downward squirm to emphasise that last sentence made it momentarily harder than usual for Cable to think how to phrase a reply.
“The differences are... something I feel I ought to emphasise,” he managed.
Wade sighed and settled his weight a little lower.
“New rule,” he pronounced, stabbing Cable in the chest with a finger. “If you do anything I don't like, I promise to let you know using a special secret code where I say something like, 'don't' or 'stop' or maybe even 'hey!'; and if I do that, you'll, oh, stop whatever it was you were doing. In return, you can promise not to treat me like I'm so damaged I have to be handled like a crazy old bag lady on acid with one foot hovering over the 'world goes boom' button. Deal?”
“Deal,” agreed Cable quickly. He swiftly revised several assumptions he'd been labouring under about how this was going to go, swung them around, took two steps across the room and tumbled Wade down on to the bed.
“Whoo!” said Wade happily, as Cable's lips settled hungrily on his throat. “Now you're getting the idea. Ohhhh yeah...” he added, as Cable began tracing lines of scar tissue, pleased to find no lack of sensitive spots between them, “that - you can just keep doing that and that'll be totally okay - ”
“I might have other ideas,” Cable warned, getting his fingers under the top of Wade's costume below the neck.
“Other ideas are good too!” Wade assured him, as Cable dragged the top half of his costume down to his hips. His left glove came off with it. Cable caught his other wrist in one hand and, to Wade's unambiguous approval, made a show of pulling the glove off with his teeth.
Cinemax hand, an old memory supplied. Coincidentally, that had also been the first time he'd seen Wade naked, though he'd had to be careful not to stare at the time. Wouldn't have been fair, considering he'd had no illusions about the odds Wade would be keeping his restored appearance - not to mention other distractions. His feelings on kissing Cable had evolved quite a bit since then too.
He was no stranger to what Wade looked like shirtless in his usual state either, but having permission to touch was a wholly different privilege.
It was hard to believe he'd ever feared there was any danger that War had beaten the fight out of him. 'Passive' was the last description Wade would ever deserve - especially in bed, as Cable was rapidly discovering. Wade was apparently clinically incapable of staying still for more than two seconds together. Anything Cable did that he enjoyed prompted a burst of happy squirming; anything he did that didn't quite hit the mark was corrected by a squirming in a more directed fashion. It probably would have gotten tiresome if every movement hadn't been a ringing tribute to how thoroughly Wade was enjoying himself, or if the squirming itself didn't have its own way of being rather pleasant, more often than not.
Wade seemed far more interested in getting his hands under Cable's shirt than he was in getting said shirt out of the way properly, but when Cable finally took over and shucked it over his head himself, Wade responded with only more enthusiasm - which meant fixing himself on Cable's metal side like it was the holy grail of intimate contact.
“I'm a lot more sensitive on the other side,” Cable reminded him.
“But you still do feel stuff with your T.O.?” Wade asked, looking up at him.
“Pressure, pain, heat and cold - most sensations still come through,” Cable explained, rather wishing they'd had this conversation earlier, “but everything is muted by an order of magnitude or more.”
“Hm...” said Wade, in a somewhat ominous tone, sliding his fingers thoughtfully down the bulges of artificial muscle that made up Cable's left arm. “So what happens if I do this?” he asked innocently, and bit down hard on Cable's metal nipple.
What happened involved a lot of T.O. sensory circuits urgently finding need to report a signal significantly outside of any range they were accustomed to reporting. There may have been stars in his T.O. eye for a moment. Cable gasped, quite involuntarily, but Wade got the message loud and clear.
“Heh,” he grinned. “Now, the lines between the plates, those are weak points, right? So if I - ”
The end of Wade's sentence was lost under the noise Cable made.
“I am so telling Weasel about this next time he calls me a meathead for sucking with machines,” Wade declared, gleefully and terrifically smug.
“Don't you dare,” snapped Cable. At least, someone said it. It didn't sound entirely like him.
“I'm not gonna tell him where the weak points are,” Wade insisted. “That's privileged information - Deadpool's eyes only. You don't just give away blackmail material like that.”
With all Wade's squirming, Cable had missed the moment when his belt had been undone, so he had very little warning before there was a hand was in his pants - heralding the end of the fascination with his T.O. for this session, though making it momentarily difficult to come up with a suitable comeback now that now that he was experiencing all the considerable and developed talent of Wade's Cinemax hand firsthand.
“Y'know...” Wade said playfully, “I think you might be bigger than War.”
“That doesn't seem very likely.”
“Well, all that high tech armour, letting the T.O. go kinda feral down in some of the lower regions, that might not be healthy for a guy...”
“We're going to have to make a rule about mentioning evil doubles of me in bed.”
“What about non-evil versions of you?” Wade suggested innocently.
“Not him either.”
“What makes you think you know which one I meant? I was talking to Forge about that time other-me went reality-hopping and...”
“No mentioning any other version of me in bed. Or any of your other ex's. Or mine.”
“Not even 'Nessa?”
“Especially not Vanessa.”
“I bet Domino never figured out that thing with your metal bits,” said Wade, back to smug again.
Cable did the only thing any sane man could have done in that situation: he leaned down, kissed Wade into silence, and ground his body down against the erection that stood out plainly through the spandex of Wade's pants (nearly trapping Wade's hand between them in the process) until both of them had forgotten what started it.
The first thing Wade said when they finally broke apart was, “You and me, we are wearing way too many pants. Uh... too much pants? How do you even...”
Cable stopped him with another quick kiss. “Not important. Let's get them out of the way.”
The downside of his impulsive tumble onto the bed was that Cable still had his boots on, and there was no way of getting his pants anywhere approaching 'off' without dealing with them first - and as long as he stayed crouched over Wade like this there was no way of doing that either. Reluctantly, he swung himself off the bed, while Wade shimmied out of the rest of his own uniform with considerably more ease.
Wade lying naked on red and black sheets was an interesting effect - Deadpool turned inside-out, if there was a way of expressing that idea so that it sounded as erotic as Cable was finding it. Even with the scars, much better than last time - now the only factor to dissuade him from staring was the need to be back on that bed and too close to see the full picture.
Before discarding the full costume, Wade paused to rifle through his pouches until he found a tube of something which he brandished triumphantly.
“Ha, see? I found a use for those pouches!”
Lubricant, of course. Cable tried not to look too hard at the part of the label which declared which flavour it was. Knowing Wade, he was probably lucky if it wasn't rated for use on machine parts.
Cable took it out of his hands as he knelt back down between eagerly spread legs. “Do you need me to use this on you, or just...”
“Nuh-uh. Apply to Tab A and insert, and it'll be good with me. Moderate force can be applied if you need it. I'm sturdy.”
Cable quirked an eyebrow and couldn't help smirking a little, though he followed Wade's instructions, such as they were. “Romantic, aren't you?”
“Used up my romance on the confetti. Do me!”
Despite Wade's best efforts to ruin what little mood they had going, there was probably nothing that could have spoiled those first couple of thrusts to bury himself full-length into Wade's body - the heat, the friction - the anticipation alone had been getting thick enough to cut with a knife. The sounds Wade greeted him with seemed to agree with his experience.
“Alright?” he asked, just to be on the safe side.
“No,” said Wade, wrapping his legs around Cable's waist in a way that implied the opposite, “cuz I still seem to be on the wrong side of this mattress. A lot more moving and then I'll be 'alright'. If you wanna go for 'terrific' then... aha.... ohyeah...”
Cable kept the next few thrusts as slow as he could make them, ostensibly to make the most of every nuance of the sensation, though with maybe just a little interest in seeing how much he could make Wade beg. (Borderline manipulative, perhaps, but after Wade's speech about rules, nothing that gave his conscience any trouble.)
Begging wasn't precisely what he got, though the enthusiastic noises Wade was making were, for a while, just as good. Nor did that long have anything to do with the crux of the matter.
“Hey Nate...” Wade said after a bit, “not that this isn't great but I think ya missed the signs - we moved out of the 20 zone kind of a way back there...”
Cable focused on keeping the rhythm slow and steady, wondered how far gone it meant he was if he was finding even Wade's voice a turn-on. “I don't want to rush this.”
“Me neither, but we can not-rush it a bit faster, if you get what I'm saying here, which is - which is - that I was pretty serious about the screw-me-down-to-the-South-Pacific part. Remember that whole 'not treating me like glass' convo we had at the start?” Wade’s legs twitched around Cable’s waist. Despite his protests, he seemed reluctant to make any move take over what he’d decided was going to be Cable’s job. Small mercies, under the circumstances.
“I got the message,” Cable assured him dryly. Or possibly hoarsely - it was a fine line.
“Really, 'cause, from where I stand - lie - lying is good - it's feeling like maybe a bit of Chinese Whispers happened on the way. Doesn't this thing have a higher gear?”
“Wade...” Mother Askani, how much longer was it going to take before he stopped being struck anew that he'd finally, truly gotten this far with Wade every time he buried himself inside that body?
Wade squirmed in counterpoint, trying and failing to force him to speed up.
“Damnit, what's the opposite of a safeword? Go! Green! Simon says: Harder! What do you, need this in writing? Do I have to get this thing signed by a lawyer? The entire cast of Boston Legal? Did I ever tell you about the time War told me today's safeword was 'harder-faster-ohgod-more'? 'Cause I been saving that up ever since.”
“Wade!”
“...not bad, but let's try that again with less anger and more, 'oh I am overcome by the power of your sexiness'.”
“Wade,” Cable repeated, through gritted teeth, punctuating every point of emphasis with another thrust, “I am trying. Very hard. To make this last.”
Wade stopped squirming and stared, eyes widening as understanding dawned. “...oh. You. Really?”
“Really.”
“That's. Okay. Not what I was going for but that's not a bad consolation prize. Uh, so,” Wade looked a little dazed, like he still couldn't quite get his head around it, “is it me? Or has it just, y'know, been a while?”
“It's you,” Cable assured him. “It's all you.”
The noise Wade made in response started out as a 'huh' but dragged out into a groan, the legs around Cable's waist tightening.
There was no keeping the floodgates back any longer.
“You have no idea,” Cable told him, hissing the words haltingly through gritted teeth. “How long I've wanted you. So sure I'd wasted my last chance with you. So long - hunting any loophole that could mean you survived. Even if you'd hated me, better than losing it all... Never even got to apologise. Never told you...”
The pace was picking up, seemingly free of any conscious intention on Cable's part. Wade took it without a word, suddenly horribly, breathtakingly focused on the man above him like he'd just realised what all those religious nuts had been on about. Attention from Wade was a full body activity; part of Cable wondered if anyone had ever had his full attention like this before.
“Finding you - finding War had you... Spent the whole time there - trying not to think about it. About having to leave you behind at the end.” Cable leaned forward, as far as he could. “Didn't work. Almost kissed you after you shot him.”
Cable's hand was on Wade's cock now, pumping it in rhythm, though he couldn't have picked when exactly he'd reached for it. He had Wade all but writhing in ecstasy, silent intentness starting to erode under the shear physicality of it all.
“That damn UN meeting. Longest one ever. Hardly remember a thing they said - couldn't stop thinking about this.”
A long moan from Wade slowed him down only for a second.
“About having you at last...”
“Fuck, Nate, you can still 'have' me a whole lot harder if you wanna.”
Cable did want - gave up on words and put everything he had left into showing Wade in a way he couldn't possibly misunderstand (that anyone less than three walls away from them probably couldn't have misunderstood). Wade never stopped moving, towards Cable one moment and having to be chased up the bed the next, in a manner that defied any rhythm Cable tried to set. So much for not lasting, everything Wade did conspired to keep him right on the edge that was starting to feel like it might go on forever, like they'd both forgotten what happened next. Wade might have been built just for this - just for him.
That was the last remotely coherent thought that went through Cable's mind until he discovered that 'what happened next' involved something very like the ground dropping out from under him.
Coming down afterwards was a slow process, the lasting burn of exertion making him feel old and young again at once, but it was hard to care much in the wake of what might have just been the best orgasm of his life. A vivid streak of white fluid on Wade's chest was the first sign he had that he'd come so hard he'd almost missed Wade following.
Wade made a noise that would be unreproducible even via copious keyboard mashing, so at least Cable wasn't the only one present in that state. Muscles moving mostly on automatic, he pulled himself out of Wade's body and lowered himself down to the bed, not quite on top of the other occupant.
“I...” said Wade, sounding breathless and a little freaked out, “take back every nice thing I ever said about sex with War. Holy fuck, Nate, that was... you were... you really... Can I talk about War now? 'Cause after this I don't think I'm going to be mentioning him ever again.”
Cable groaned into the pillow.
“I made you babble!” Wade exclaimed, like he'd just discovered there was an eleven on the scale of all things hot.
By all that was holy, he had. Wade was sexually transmissible - to Cable, if no-one else, who was only now coming to realise just exactly how unhealthy all those months of making a dozen different excuses to convince himself he could live without jumping Wade's bones this very second had been for him. He must have been bottled up to bursting point. Probably very nearly still was.
The upside - and a very satisfying upside it was - was that it was bound to be nothing that a lot more sex with Wade wouldn't fix. And if not, he could take his time disproving it.
“I just made Priscilla-the-Mutant-Messiah-of-Providence babble!” Wade was saying. “I gotta get that on a t-shirt or...”
Cable snagged Wade with one arm and kissed him back into silence again. Wade showed no indication he minded.
“So,” Wade proclaimed after he'd reclaimed his tongue once more, still looking so pleased with himself he practically glowed. “What's up next? Food or more sex?”
“Food,” Cable said firmly. “I... don't think I'll be up to a repeat performance for a bit.”
Wade snickered at him. “I'm thinking something we can get delivered?”
“Knock yourself out,” Cable muttered. Wade gave him one last quick snog, slithered out of bed and fished through Cable's pants until he found the mobile phone he still sometimes carried, mostly out of habit or for use in event of headaches. He was probably ordering pizza - in the nude, but as long as most businesses on Providence didn't rely on videophone, no-one would have to know.
One of them would need pants on (at least) by the time the food showed up, but Cable had a feeling it wasn't going to be him.
On which matter, he should probably be worried about how long it would take Irene to find out that the 'urgent' business he'd cancelled everything for involved a half-naked Deadpool ordering pizza from his room.
Later, maybe. Right now, it was hard to worry about anything beyond how long it would take Wade to come back to bed.
Bonus Side Story!
Title: Let Slip the Dogs of War
Characters/Pairing: Cable/Deadpool
Rating: NC-17
Chapter: Epilogue 2
Word Count: 4030
Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Epilogue 1
Wade was lounging by the doorway when Cable got back to his room, with too-obvious nonchalance that as good as said, 'What, me, run all the way here? 'Course not! I was just... nearby! And not because I've been loitering around this hallway all day, nosiree.' The way he was watching Cable approach, with edge-of-his-seat fascination that suggested he was trying to decide the best moment to pounce, didn't do much for his efforts to look relaxed either. While Cable wouldn't have been wholly averse to being pounced on under the circumstances, he found himself stopping just a little beyond arm's reach.
“Did you want to get something to eat first?” he offered, likely to be the one concession to tradition
either of them made all night.
“Uh, no,” said Wade. “Sex now, food later. How about more sex after that?”
After so many months of never finding the right moment to raise the subject with the old Wade, the directness was actually quite refreshing. “I can't say I'd planned that far.”
“I'm easy,” said Wade, following him into the room. The cleaners had done a thorough job restoring his room to its natural state - with the exception of the Deadpool-print sheets, which had merely been straightened and tucked in neatly, but if Wade noticed he gave no sign of being offended. “We can do sex, sex, then food, or how about...” He paused, realising Cable had stopped just inside the doorway. “Nate?”
Cable turned and pulled the door shut behind them. Finally alone and free of all other commitments, he treated himself to the luxury of giving Wade the kind of slow once-over that would have been borderline inappropriate with anyone else watching. The tight fabric of his costume hid most of the scars, but only accentuated the lean muscle of the body underneath. A good look on him - and a shame he still believed that the condition of his skin marred a physique like that beyond redemption. Nevertheless, the sooner they could get the costume out of the way, the better.
“Huh,” said Wade, sounding a little breathless, not the least oblivious to what Cable was thinking.
Cable let his smile widen, and stepped a little further into Wade's personal space. “How about we start at the top of that list. See how we go from there.”
“I like your plan,” Wade agreed, as Cable brought both hands to his neck, resting them just at the base of his mask.
“May I?” Cable asked, something he expected to be saying a lot tonight - after what Wade had been through, he couldn't be too careful.
“Uhh,” No matter how many times Wade had let Cable see his face before - sparring, hanging out or just to make a point, suddenly now he got nervous - like he'd just realised that cue to pounce had gone sailing past and he'd missed it, “so, uh, I was thinking maybe we could leave the mask on, or, halfway on? People tell me it's a good look on me...”
“Please, Wade,” Cable gathered the edge of the fabric in his fingers, not raising it without permission, but this was the one item he was going to push on. “I want to be able to look you in the eye while we do this.”
Wade fidgeted a bit. “Well, you put it that way...”
The mask came away without further resistance, revealing the face beneath centimetre by centimetre as Cable peeled it back. Scarred, yes, but not ugly by any standard Cable had any inclination to contemplate.
Kissing Wade was much better without it in the way.
Wade kissed back with more enthusiasm than anyone else in Cable's experience - with the matter of his face resolved, shyness was no longer a word with any place in Wade's dictionary. In a trice, Cable had both of Wade's arms wrapped tightly around his neck, then one of Wade's legs hooked around his waist to go with them, pressing the full length of that warm, hard body up against his own. Another second to sort out his balance, and Wade had his second leg hooked up beside the first. The weight wasn't more than Cable could support, hands going automatically to help hold him up, but he needn't have worried - the wiry tension he could feel in Wade's thighs proved him quite capable of holding himself up without assistance. He certainly had no objection to having Cable's hands suddenly all over his arse, though. The position meant Wade was now looking down slightly into the kiss (which seemed an insufficient term for what might have been better described as his eager experiments to see how far he could get his tongue down Cable's throat) - quite the novel experience for someone of Cable's height. Whether the way he kept grinding against Cable was the side-effect of or the ulterior-motive behind his apparent determination to try out every possible angle he could get at Cable's mouth with his own, Cable really did not mind. Getting his hands on Wade was living up to all expectations.
“So,” said Wade, coyly, when he finally came up for air, “is this 'wanna look you in the eye thing' gonna extend all the way to the part when you're fucking me through the mattress?”
Wade had dived for his ear before he gave Cable a chance to reply, so he missed seeing him frown. “I was going to ask if you wanted to top.”
“Ooooh,” Wade breathed, exploring what little stubble he could find on Cable's chin with his lips, “Put me down for one of those for next time. Got my heart set on being screwed into the South Pacific today.”
The trouble with that much body contact was that it didn't give you any leeway to tense up even slightly without the other partner noticing. Wade leaned back, and made use of his looking-you-in-the-eye privileges.
“Okay, what?” he said, not too harshly. “No way are you going to tell me you don't want to screw me through the mattress. I have a freaking proctologist's certificate that says otherwise. I know you're not War, but you can't be that different. Especially in those departments.”
A very deliberate downward squirm to emphasise that last sentence made it momentarily harder than usual for Cable to think how to phrase a reply.
“The differences are... something I feel I ought to emphasise,” he managed.
Wade sighed and settled his weight a little lower.
“New rule,” he pronounced, stabbing Cable in the chest with a finger. “If you do anything I don't like, I promise to let you know using a special secret code where I say something like, 'don't' or 'stop' or maybe even 'hey!'; and if I do that, you'll, oh, stop whatever it was you were doing. In return, you can promise not to treat me like I'm so damaged I have to be handled like a crazy old bag lady on acid with one foot hovering over the 'world goes boom' button. Deal?”
“Deal,” agreed Cable quickly. He swiftly revised several assumptions he'd been labouring under about how this was going to go, swung them around, took two steps across the room and tumbled Wade down on to the bed.
“Whoo!” said Wade happily, as Cable's lips settled hungrily on his throat. “Now you're getting the idea. Ohhhh yeah...” he added, as Cable began tracing lines of scar tissue, pleased to find no lack of sensitive spots between them, “that - you can just keep doing that and that'll be totally okay - ”
“I might have other ideas,” Cable warned, getting his fingers under the top of Wade's costume below the neck.
“Other ideas are good too!” Wade assured him, as Cable dragged the top half of his costume down to his hips. His left glove came off with it. Cable caught his other wrist in one hand and, to Wade's unambiguous approval, made a show of pulling the glove off with his teeth.
Cinemax hand, an old memory supplied. Coincidentally, that had also been the first time he'd seen Wade naked, though he'd had to be careful not to stare at the time. Wouldn't have been fair, considering he'd had no illusions about the odds Wade would be keeping his restored appearance - not to mention other distractions. His feelings on kissing Cable had evolved quite a bit since then too.
He was no stranger to what Wade looked like shirtless in his usual state either, but having permission to touch was a wholly different privilege.
It was hard to believe he'd ever feared there was any danger that War had beaten the fight out of him. 'Passive' was the last description Wade would ever deserve - especially in bed, as Cable was rapidly discovering. Wade was apparently clinically incapable of staying still for more than two seconds together. Anything Cable did that he enjoyed prompted a burst of happy squirming; anything he did that didn't quite hit the mark was corrected by a squirming in a more directed fashion. It probably would have gotten tiresome if every movement hadn't been a ringing tribute to how thoroughly Wade was enjoying himself, or if the squirming itself didn't have its own way of being rather pleasant, more often than not.
Wade seemed far more interested in getting his hands under Cable's shirt than he was in getting said shirt out of the way properly, but when Cable finally took over and shucked it over his head himself, Wade responded with only more enthusiasm - which meant fixing himself on Cable's metal side like it was the holy grail of intimate contact.
“I'm a lot more sensitive on the other side,” Cable reminded him.
“But you still do feel stuff with your T.O.?” Wade asked, looking up at him.
“Pressure, pain, heat and cold - most sensations still come through,” Cable explained, rather wishing they'd had this conversation earlier, “but everything is muted by an order of magnitude or more.”
“Hm...” said Wade, in a somewhat ominous tone, sliding his fingers thoughtfully down the bulges of artificial muscle that made up Cable's left arm. “So what happens if I do this?” he asked innocently, and bit down hard on Cable's metal nipple.
What happened involved a lot of T.O. sensory circuits urgently finding need to report a signal significantly outside of any range they were accustomed to reporting. There may have been stars in his T.O. eye for a moment. Cable gasped, quite involuntarily, but Wade got the message loud and clear.
“Heh,” he grinned. “Now, the lines between the plates, those are weak points, right? So if I - ”
The end of Wade's sentence was lost under the noise Cable made.
“I am so telling Weasel about this next time he calls me a meathead for sucking with machines,” Wade declared, gleefully and terrifically smug.
“Don't you dare,” snapped Cable. At least, someone said it. It didn't sound entirely like him.
“I'm not gonna tell him where the weak points are,” Wade insisted. “That's privileged information - Deadpool's eyes only. You don't just give away blackmail material like that.”
With all Wade's squirming, Cable had missed the moment when his belt had been undone, so he had very little warning before there was a hand was in his pants - heralding the end of the fascination with his T.O. for this session, though making it momentarily difficult to come up with a suitable comeback now that now that he was experiencing all the considerable and developed talent of Wade's Cinemax hand firsthand.
“Y'know...” Wade said playfully, “I think you might be bigger than War.”
“That doesn't seem very likely.”
“Well, all that high tech armour, letting the T.O. go kinda feral down in some of the lower regions, that might not be healthy for a guy...”
“We're going to have to make a rule about mentioning evil doubles of me in bed.”
“What about non-evil versions of you?” Wade suggested innocently.
“Not him either.”
“What makes you think you know which one I meant? I was talking to Forge about that time other-me went reality-hopping and...”
“No mentioning any other version of me in bed. Or any of your other ex's. Or mine.”
“Not even 'Nessa?”
“Especially not Vanessa.”
“I bet Domino never figured out that thing with your metal bits,” said Wade, back to smug again.
Cable did the only thing any sane man could have done in that situation: he leaned down, kissed Wade into silence, and ground his body down against the erection that stood out plainly through the spandex of Wade's pants (nearly trapping Wade's hand between them in the process) until both of them had forgotten what started it.
The first thing Wade said when they finally broke apart was, “You and me, we are wearing way too many pants. Uh... too much pants? How do you even...”
Cable stopped him with another quick kiss. “Not important. Let's get them out of the way.”
The downside of his impulsive tumble onto the bed was that Cable still had his boots on, and there was no way of getting his pants anywhere approaching 'off' without dealing with them first - and as long as he stayed crouched over Wade like this there was no way of doing that either. Reluctantly, he swung himself off the bed, while Wade shimmied out of the rest of his own uniform with considerably more ease.
Wade lying naked on red and black sheets was an interesting effect - Deadpool turned inside-out, if there was a way of expressing that idea so that it sounded as erotic as Cable was finding it. Even with the scars, much better than last time - now the only factor to dissuade him from staring was the need to be back on that bed and too close to see the full picture.
Before discarding the full costume, Wade paused to rifle through his pouches until he found a tube of something which he brandished triumphantly.
“Ha, see? I found a use for those pouches!”
Lubricant, of course. Cable tried not to look too hard at the part of the label which declared which flavour it was. Knowing Wade, he was probably lucky if it wasn't rated for use on machine parts.
Cable took it out of his hands as he knelt back down between eagerly spread legs. “Do you need me to use this on you, or just...”
“Nuh-uh. Apply to Tab A and insert, and it'll be good with me. Moderate force can be applied if you need it. I'm sturdy.”
Cable quirked an eyebrow and couldn't help smirking a little, though he followed Wade's instructions, such as they were. “Romantic, aren't you?”
“Used up my romance on the confetti. Do me!”
Despite Wade's best efforts to ruin what little mood they had going, there was probably nothing that could have spoiled those first couple of thrusts to bury himself full-length into Wade's body - the heat, the friction - the anticipation alone had been getting thick enough to cut with a knife. The sounds Wade greeted him with seemed to agree with his experience.
“Alright?” he asked, just to be on the safe side.
“No,” said Wade, wrapping his legs around Cable's waist in a way that implied the opposite, “cuz I still seem to be on the wrong side of this mattress. A lot more moving and then I'll be 'alright'. If you wanna go for 'terrific' then... aha.... ohyeah...”
Cable kept the next few thrusts as slow as he could make them, ostensibly to make the most of every nuance of the sensation, though with maybe just a little interest in seeing how much he could make Wade beg. (Borderline manipulative, perhaps, but after Wade's speech about rules, nothing that gave his conscience any trouble.)
Begging wasn't precisely what he got, though the enthusiastic noises Wade was making were, for a while, just as good. Nor did that long have anything to do with the crux of the matter.
“Hey Nate...” Wade said after a bit, “not that this isn't great but I think ya missed the signs - we moved out of the 20 zone kind of a way back there...”
Cable focused on keeping the rhythm slow and steady, wondered how far gone it meant he was if he was finding even Wade's voice a turn-on. “I don't want to rush this.”
“Me neither, but we can not-rush it a bit faster, if you get what I'm saying here, which is - which is - that I was pretty serious about the screw-me-down-to-the-South-Pacific part. Remember that whole 'not treating me like glass' convo we had at the start?” Wade’s legs twitched around Cable’s waist. Despite his protests, he seemed reluctant to make any move take over what he’d decided was going to be Cable’s job. Small mercies, under the circumstances.
“I got the message,” Cable assured him dryly. Or possibly hoarsely - it was a fine line.
“Really, 'cause, from where I stand - lie - lying is good - it's feeling like maybe a bit of Chinese Whispers happened on the way. Doesn't this thing have a higher gear?”
“Wade...” Mother Askani, how much longer was it going to take before he stopped being struck anew that he'd finally, truly gotten this far with Wade every time he buried himself inside that body?
Wade squirmed in counterpoint, trying and failing to force him to speed up.
“Damnit, what's the opposite of a safeword? Go! Green! Simon says: Harder! What do you, need this in writing? Do I have to get this thing signed by a lawyer? The entire cast of Boston Legal? Did I ever tell you about the time War told me today's safeword was 'harder-faster-ohgod-more'? 'Cause I been saving that up ever since.”
“Wade!”
“...not bad, but let's try that again with less anger and more, 'oh I am overcome by the power of your sexiness'.”
“Wade,” Cable repeated, through gritted teeth, punctuating every point of emphasis with another thrust, “I am trying. Very hard. To make this last.”
Wade stopped squirming and stared, eyes widening as understanding dawned. “...oh. You. Really?”
“Really.”
“That's. Okay. Not what I was going for but that's not a bad consolation prize. Uh, so,” Wade looked a little dazed, like he still couldn't quite get his head around it, “is it me? Or has it just, y'know, been a while?”
“It's you,” Cable assured him. “It's all you.”
The noise Wade made in response started out as a 'huh' but dragged out into a groan, the legs around Cable's waist tightening.
There was no keeping the floodgates back any longer.
“You have no idea,” Cable told him, hissing the words haltingly through gritted teeth. “How long I've wanted you. So sure I'd wasted my last chance with you. So long - hunting any loophole that could mean you survived. Even if you'd hated me, better than losing it all... Never even got to apologise. Never told you...”
The pace was picking up, seemingly free of any conscious intention on Cable's part. Wade took it without a word, suddenly horribly, breathtakingly focused on the man above him like he'd just realised what all those religious nuts had been on about. Attention from Wade was a full body activity; part of Cable wondered if anyone had ever had his full attention like this before.
“Finding you - finding War had you... Spent the whole time there - trying not to think about it. About having to leave you behind at the end.” Cable leaned forward, as far as he could. “Didn't work. Almost kissed you after you shot him.”
Cable's hand was on Wade's cock now, pumping it in rhythm, though he couldn't have picked when exactly he'd reached for it. He had Wade all but writhing in ecstasy, silent intentness starting to erode under the shear physicality of it all.
“That damn UN meeting. Longest one ever. Hardly remember a thing they said - couldn't stop thinking about this.”
A long moan from Wade slowed him down only for a second.
“About having you at last...”
“Fuck, Nate, you can still 'have' me a whole lot harder if you wanna.”
Cable did want - gave up on words and put everything he had left into showing Wade in a way he couldn't possibly misunderstand (that anyone less than three walls away from them probably couldn't have misunderstood). Wade never stopped moving, towards Cable one moment and having to be chased up the bed the next, in a manner that defied any rhythm Cable tried to set. So much for not lasting, everything Wade did conspired to keep him right on the edge that was starting to feel like it might go on forever, like they'd both forgotten what happened next. Wade might have been built just for this - just for him.
That was the last remotely coherent thought that went through Cable's mind until he discovered that 'what happened next' involved something very like the ground dropping out from under him.
Coming down afterwards was a slow process, the lasting burn of exertion making him feel old and young again at once, but it was hard to care much in the wake of what might have just been the best orgasm of his life. A vivid streak of white fluid on Wade's chest was the first sign he had that he'd come so hard he'd almost missed Wade following.
Wade made a noise that would be unreproducible even via copious keyboard mashing, so at least Cable wasn't the only one present in that state. Muscles moving mostly on automatic, he pulled himself out of Wade's body and lowered himself down to the bed, not quite on top of the other occupant.
“I...” said Wade, sounding breathless and a little freaked out, “take back every nice thing I ever said about sex with War. Holy fuck, Nate, that was... you were... you really... Can I talk about War now? 'Cause after this I don't think I'm going to be mentioning him ever again.”
Cable groaned into the pillow.
“I made you babble!” Wade exclaimed, like he'd just discovered there was an eleven on the scale of all things hot.
By all that was holy, he had. Wade was sexually transmissible - to Cable, if no-one else, who was only now coming to realise just exactly how unhealthy all those months of making a dozen different excuses to convince himself he could live without jumping Wade's bones this very second had been for him. He must have been bottled up to bursting point. Probably very nearly still was.
The upside - and a very satisfying upside it was - was that it was bound to be nothing that a lot more sex with Wade wouldn't fix. And if not, he could take his time disproving it.
“I just made Priscilla-the-Mutant-Messiah-of-Providence babble!” Wade was saying. “I gotta get that on a t-shirt or...”
Cable snagged Wade with one arm and kissed him back into silence again. Wade showed no indication he minded.
“So,” Wade proclaimed after he'd reclaimed his tongue once more, still looking so pleased with himself he practically glowed. “What's up next? Food or more sex?”
“Food,” Cable said firmly. “I... don't think I'll be up to a repeat performance for a bit.”
Wade snickered at him. “I'm thinking something we can get delivered?”
“Knock yourself out,” Cable muttered. Wade gave him one last quick snog, slithered out of bed and fished through Cable's pants until he found the mobile phone he still sometimes carried, mostly out of habit or for use in event of headaches. He was probably ordering pizza - in the nude, but as long as most businesses on Providence didn't rely on videophone, no-one would have to know.
One of them would need pants on (at least) by the time the food showed up, but Cable had a feeling it wasn't going to be him.
On which matter, he should probably be worried about how long it would take Irene to find out that the 'urgent' business he'd cancelled everything for involved a half-naked Deadpool ordering pizza from his room.
Later, maybe. Right now, it was hard to worry about anything beyond how long it would take Wade to come back to bed.
Bonus Side Story!