[Fic] Choosing Sides
Pairings: Wade Wilson & Nathan Summers
Summary: Takes place between Deadpool vs. X-Force #2 and Deadpool vs. X-Force #3. 600 words to explain how Cable’s collar switches sides.
The paralysis is sudden and abrupt. They pass through the time portal and Cable counts himself lucky that the landing is soft ... for a given degree of softness. Mud and water are certainly gentler to land on than bare rock. His telekinesis does not immediately respond, but his telepathy is working just fine -- the slippery ungraspable shape of Deadpool's mind is unchanged. That gives him hope that once he has a moment to marshal his forces, the telekinesis will return.
Deadpool is talking nonsense and posturing, saying absolutely nothing of value, so Cable concentrates on getting his telekinesis to respond. So focused on his breathing, on levelling out his adrenaline response, the touch on his neck surprises him. Cable abruptly refocuses on his enemy, whose chatter has cut off, the jagged fragment of a run-on sentence dangling in sudden silence.
Gloved fingers brush along the column of his neck, from collar bone to jaw, a trail of heat as hot as a brand. The fabric of his gloves catches on the metal of the collar and Deadpool makes a low, tongue-clicking sound of disapproval. He grabs hold of the collar -- for one mad moment Cable thinks the mercenary will actually take it off -- and rotates it, the heavy link of the control panel now brushing against his spine rather than the hollow of his throat.
Cable is sharply aware of the change in Deadpool's interest, at the razor hot edge of his focus. He has all of Deadpool's attention as gloved fingers adjust the collar just so, aligning it again and again until it rests with perfect symmetry. A finger tip traces a meandering path from his jaw, to the soft, fragile skin beneath his chin, down the column of his throat, and over the line of his collar bone. The backs of his gloved fingers, warm and ridged and silken, glide slow and unimpeded back up, from the hollow of his throat to his chin, chucking gently underneath as they come to the end of their journey.
The hum of approval is much, much too low for mere mockery. It's more a gravel throated purr of satisfaction, a sound reserved for the bedroom rather than a battle. "There you are, beautiful. Pretty as a princess."
Now, in this moment, Deadpool has all the power. He need only use it. Cable can already see in the tilt of Deadpool's masked head, in the tension coiled in muscled shoulders, that he will use it.
Cable is a soldier. He braces for the inevitable impact, for the worst that could happen. Torture. Rape. He braces and waits, because it is also inevitable that Deadpool's focus will waver, that an opportunity to turn the tables will present itself. Fortunes in war tumble like dice. Cable just has to survive this moment to take advantage of the next.
The moment stretches, as charged as the air before a lightning strike.
Deadpool's withdrawal is so sudden it almost leaves Cable breathless.
"So there I was -- "
A kick knocks him face first into the murky water. As though paralysis wasn't enough to keep Cable in place, Deadpool's boot on his neck pins him down, as helpless as a butterfly on a board. Almost helpless. Telekinesis parts the water beneath him, letting him focus on things more important than holding his breath.
...
Later, Cable will forget, temporal distortion blurring memory into ghostly fragments ... except he never really forgets that in that moment of absolute power, Deadpool chose the path of juvenile pranks rather than unalloyed cruelty.
Summary: Takes place between Deadpool vs. X-Force #2 and Deadpool vs. X-Force #3. 600 words to explain how Cable’s collar switches sides.
The paralysis is sudden and abrupt. They pass through the time portal and Cable counts himself lucky that the landing is soft ... for a given degree of softness. Mud and water are certainly gentler to land on than bare rock. His telekinesis does not immediately respond, but his telepathy is working just fine -- the slippery ungraspable shape of Deadpool's mind is unchanged. That gives him hope that once he has a moment to marshal his forces, the telekinesis will return.
Deadpool is talking nonsense and posturing, saying absolutely nothing of value, so Cable concentrates on getting his telekinesis to respond. So focused on his breathing, on levelling out his adrenaline response, the touch on his neck surprises him. Cable abruptly refocuses on his enemy, whose chatter has cut off, the jagged fragment of a run-on sentence dangling in sudden silence.
Gloved fingers brush along the column of his neck, from collar bone to jaw, a trail of heat as hot as a brand. The fabric of his gloves catches on the metal of the collar and Deadpool makes a low, tongue-clicking sound of disapproval. He grabs hold of the collar -- for one mad moment Cable thinks the mercenary will actually take it off -- and rotates it, the heavy link of the control panel now brushing against his spine rather than the hollow of his throat.
Cable is sharply aware of the change in Deadpool's interest, at the razor hot edge of his focus. He has all of Deadpool's attention as gloved fingers adjust the collar just so, aligning it again and again until it rests with perfect symmetry. A finger tip traces a meandering path from his jaw, to the soft, fragile skin beneath his chin, down the column of his throat, and over the line of his collar bone. The backs of his gloved fingers, warm and ridged and silken, glide slow and unimpeded back up, from the hollow of his throat to his chin, chucking gently underneath as they come to the end of their journey.
The hum of approval is much, much too low for mere mockery. It's more a gravel throated purr of satisfaction, a sound reserved for the bedroom rather than a battle. "There you are, beautiful. Pretty as a princess."
Now, in this moment, Deadpool has all the power. He need only use it. Cable can already see in the tilt of Deadpool's masked head, in the tension coiled in muscled shoulders, that he will use it.
Cable is a soldier. He braces for the inevitable impact, for the worst that could happen. Torture. Rape. He braces and waits, because it is also inevitable that Deadpool's focus will waver, that an opportunity to turn the tables will present itself. Fortunes in war tumble like dice. Cable just has to survive this moment to take advantage of the next.
The moment stretches, as charged as the air before a lightning strike.
Deadpool's withdrawal is so sudden it almost leaves Cable breathless.
"So there I was -- "
A kick knocks him face first into the murky water. As though paralysis wasn't enough to keep Cable in place, Deadpool's boot on his neck pins him down, as helpless as a butterfly on a board. Almost helpless. Telekinesis parts the water beneath him, letting him focus on things more important than holding his breath.
...
Later, Cable will forget, temporal distortion blurring memory into ghostly fragments ... except he never really forgets that in that moment of absolute power, Deadpool chose the path of juvenile pranks rather than unalloyed cruelty.