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That thing about the stuff I wrote that one time...

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From the Cable x Deadpool kink meme

“No rest for the omnipotent. How does God do it, do ya think? Next time you and dear ol’ dad are having a family get together, you’ll have to ask him for me.”

A Jesus joke. Funny. Nate sat down on the sofa beside Wade. The Deadpool costume was in tatters, ripped and blackened, and smelling slightly singed. It was times like these that Nate wished the most that he could look deeper into the Jackson Pollock painting that was Wade’s mind. He certainly didn’t have the energy to ask what had happened.

“What ha-” No, no, he didn’t have the energy. Some questions were best left unasked. “Fifty Sexiest Celebrity Beach Bodies, huh?”


Spending time around Wade with the television on was nearly Zen-like. As long as he was given domain over the TV remote, most of Wade’s babbling would be wasted on something inanimate. Nate needed that, at present. It had been a long day.

First there were the problems with the power grid in Providence. There was the issue with the reporters in Rumekistan. Waste management, irrigation, lunch with diplomats, approving new areas for housing, meetings. It had all culminated into one very long, very stressful day.

“Ha! Number three, Ryan Reynolds!”


“Seriously? I thought Marvel movies were still on this side of the fourth wall. No? Whatever. Oh! TiVo, rewind and zoom in. Look at what a tight ass I have – no surprises there. It’s nice to see they got something right. Hmm, this joke’s old -still, I am looking pretty sexy…”

Nate let Wade ramble on. There wasn’t much alternative. He sighed and shifted on the sofa, groaning as his stiff muscles protested over the sudden movement. As long as he kept moving, he didn’t notice how tired he was. The problems only started after he’d managed to relax.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” Nate blurted, perhaps a bit too hastily. Seldom did Wade cause him to lose his calm, calculated savior-cool. There were few push-button issues between them. Normally, he need only say “no” and move on. Thus, it left him quite discomforted when Wade’s requests went from laughable to… tempting. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Wade dropped the remote onto the sofa arm. “Because, I could-“

“I’m fine,” Nate repeated, standing to leave; perhaps for a hot shower or, better yet, bed. This proved to be a mistake. The pain that shot up his back was immediate and merciless. It was almost funny- being thrown through walls, being shot, being blown up – it all seemed like manageable, tolerable pain compared to the “I’m tired. Fuck you.” kiss-off that was a sore back.

“See, now, that’s definitely not ‘fine’. If you’ll lay down, I could-“

“No, Wade.”

“-give you a massage and-“

“No, Wade.”

“-you’d feel a lot better. See-“


“I was prepared for an occasion like this. In my utility belt, pouch-thingie-“


“-I have a koala.”


“Well, part of one. See, I figure that if a rabbit’s foot is lucky then-“

“We’re… you’re talking about the marsupial here, right?”

“I believe they prefer the term ‘faux mini-bears’ these days – if we’re trying to be PC here.”

“Are you ever?” This was not helping Nate’s stress level. In the interest of preserving what was left of the evening, he motioned for Wade to follow him.

Though Nate didn’t look back, he did hear a small cheer, followed by an emphatic, “You won’t regret this, Nate! I’ve been reading up on techniques. You know, in some places they use honey, and some people do something called ‘cupping’. I haven’t entirely figured out what that last one is, but it sounds like fun.”

Already, Nate knew that Wade was wrong. He was going to regret this very much indeed.

There had been haggling. Wade was forbidden to “experiment with new techniques”. Nate was forbidden anything but a towel, which really should have suited him just fine. He wasn’t one to be embarrassed. Nudity had never bothered him before, and yet…

“Watch where your hands are, Wade.” The hands pushing down the towel paused then began moving upward again. If anything, his body was becoming tenser, defensive against any unsolicited advances.

Luckily, Nate was a patient man, and Wade seemed eager to prove himself. His muscles began to unknot and relax. The tense area at the small of his back began to release. Even the massage oil was enjoyable, with a sweet, cloying sort of scent and a pleasant warming sensation when Wade applied pressure. “The bottle said massage oil, and I stand by that,” Wade insisted when Nate questioned his choice of lubricants.

It was nice. Even with his initial reluctance, Nate had to admit that much. Wade seemed to know his body in ways the island’s masseurs didn’t. His hands knew just where to go, knew where to press, knew pressure points Nate hadn’t even known he had. “Is that WD-40?” It was really quite impressive. “Hmm. That feels good, Wade.” The hands on his back paused. The mattress beside him shifted. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Wade cleared his throat and continued almost awkwardly. “No, just – ah- reminded me of something, is all. You know, we should go to the beach some time.” When his hands made contact again, the massage was a little more… experimental.

A cold chill swept over Nate, leaving him on edge at first. Wade’s massage had moved beneath the towel, his palms and fingers moving in slower, more calculated motions over his hips, the back of his legs, between his thighs. There was a thin line between professional and erotic massage and Wade was pushing it… or groping it, maybe. “Groping” sounded more accurate.

Nate began to turn his head. His mouth began to form “Hey.” or some similar warning. Even shoving him away would do. Instead, Nate found himself laying his head back down in his arms. The mattress shifted again and though there was no contact beyond his hands, Nate knew that Wade was straddling him. He didn’t question this either. Wade would only give him some excuse about the angle being better – and it was. The pressure being applied was more direct and exact and, to Nate’s sudden dismay, arousing.

“Get the back of my neck, will you, Wade?” he asked immediately, hoping that if Wade moved on, his body would forget about doing anything horrifically inappropriate. The request backfired. Wade moved with his hands as he massaged upward, moved the length of Nate until his fingers slipped around the base of his neck and their bodies were barely touching.

“That good?”

Nate managed only an indistinct moan in response. In his mind, he was busy switching their positions. He was ripping off what was left of the Deadpool costume, using the rest of the “massage oil” for a more practical purpose.

Back in the real world, Wade’s hands slid back to Nate’s shoulders and moved down his arms. Their bodies pressed closer, which conflicted with Nate’s imagination. There Wade was on his back, gripping the headboard, legs over Nate’s shoulders as he talked about… something… possibly koalas.

Nate was too distracted by the pleasure to pay attention to what imaginary Wade was saying. Still slick with the massage oil, keeping his partner in place while thrusting was proving difficult, and Nate wasted no time at all switching positions. The transition was nonexistent. Suddenly Wade was in his lap; still talking, still slippery in Nate’s arms. He was doing the moving now, leaving Nate free to allow his own hands to explore - to familiarize themselves with Wade’s strange skin – to find the areas that were tense, that were tight, that were pressure points of release long neglected until…


He had fallen asleep. Nate opened his eyes just in time to see an afterimage fade from the blank television screen. Wade sat with his back to him, still clothed while Nate was… His face burned red as he grabbed the fallen towel and got to his knees. The movement must have alerted Wade, because at that moment he turned to face him.

“I didn’t realize telepaths broadcasted their wet dreams.” Wade was grinning beneath his mask as he stood.

“Wade, I- Broadcast?” Nate’s mind was overwhelmed and impossibly blank at the same time. He imagined this was what an incoming aneurism felt like.

Wade nodded, sounding perfectly rational yet still grinning as he continued, “Has something to do with the TO, I’ll bet. If it makes you feel any better, I doubt the broadcast area was that wide. I mean, I haven’t seen anything like that before, and I think I’d remember Domino porn… like making love to a panda.”

So, Wade had seen. It wasn’t the end of the world, even if it did feel rather catastrophic. It seemed like a number of things needed to be clarified. How much had Wade seen? He knew this didn’t mean anything, right? What was with all the references to endangered animals?

As was so often the case, Wade beat him to the verbal punch.

“I’m a little disappointed, honestly. If you wanted a happy ending, all you had to do was ask.”
Current Mood:
depressed depressed
Current Music:
"Hello, My Name is Your TV" - Ludo
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