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Hurt/Discomfort - Entry 3: How to Score Free Dental in a Failing Economy

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A/N: I must say, I'm a bit bummed that I missed out on the new Ms. Marvel today.  On the plus side? My local store had, like, a dozen Deadpool Vol. 1 issues in (half of which I, miraculously, didn't already own); and we all know I collect those like the plague... wait. That doesn't make sense. You catch things like the plague. What do you collect things like? Porn? We all know I collect those like porn.

... That still doesn't sound right. Oh, well. To celebrate, here's fic.

Entry 3: How to Score Free Dental in a Failing Economy


            Bob Agent of Hydra did not want to be Katharine Clifton.


            What if Wade never came back? What if he died in this cave alone? Yes, Weasel was there – but only sort of and only when he felt like it. That hardly counted; especially not when he was being so unhelpful when Bob confronted him with his concerns.


            “I didn’t tell you to watch the movie! Here, watch something else and be quiet. You’re out of luck if any A.I.M. agents find you.”


            Weasel made him watch The Descent. Things didn’t get better, but they did get quieter. Apparently, monstrous, humanoid cave-dwellers were completely blind. They would not attack as long as you remained silent.


            “Hey, Bob!”


            Bob shot Wade.


            “You should try doing that with your eyes open. I mean, not to say that didn’t kinda hurt – but, even if you shoot a guy without a healing factor and only graze his arm – all you’re going to do is piss him off.”


            Bob uncovered his eyes. Wade was indeed at the cave entrance, holding his arm and not looking at all pleased. Be that as it may, Bob very relieved to see his boss… and not entirely sorry that he had accidentally shot him.


            “He was a pretty good shot earlier,” Weasel offered from the handheld. “He capped something in the head.”


            “Hmm?” Wade surveyed the area. “Look at that! You shot a tiny moose!”


            Bob was sorry about that. “I didn’t mean to! I thought it might be one of those cave monster things from this horrible movie Weasel’s making me watch and-“


            “Oh, the one with all the hot British chicks? Rewind it or… unbuffer it- whatever the hell you do to movies on the computer.” Wade prodded the Shetland show moose with the toe of his boot. “I don’t care what this thing is, I’m cooking it,” he muttered to himself, dragging it along behind him by one of its hind legs.


            Bob grimaced, dragging the bar on the media player back to the beginning as he tried to ignore the surreal sight of Wade flaying a very small moose with a katana. Maybe he wasn’t that relieved to have Wade back.






            Bob didn’t mind horror movies. He didn’t mind meat. It was just that, normally, he wasn’t in a cave when he watched horror movies based around spelunking– and when he ate meat (-or didn't eat it, as was the case in this instance.), it normally wasn’t endangered and it certainly wasn’t from anything he had killed personally.


            “I’m going to be sick,” Bob moaned into Wade’s shoulder, having hidden his face at the moment one of the film’s heroines had her throat ripped out.


            Wade, who had just finished eating and was now quite involved in the movie, required a moment to fully realize what Bob had just said. “What? No, no, no – not on me. Face that way.” He shoved the side of Bob’s face, forcing him in the other direction; it wasn’t difficult. Bob slumped over, sure he was about to vomit. He was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t, but also a little confused as to why Wade’s hands seemed to still be on his face.


            “Um… Mr. Wilson?” But Wade ignored him, instead removing one of his gloves and pressing his hand back against Bob’s cheek. Bob remained very still as Wade’s hand moved to his forehead. “Is there something on my face?”


            “You feel sick.”


            “Yes, I know. I just said that. Well, I didn’t use those exact words, but-”


            “You feel like you’re running a fever.”


            “Oh.” Bob had assumed that the cave had simply gotten warmer. “Well, that’s not good.”


            “You don’t feel hot, just warm. The fever isn’t a bad thing, so much as the fact that it probably means-” Wade startled Bob by grabbing his injured shoulder, pulling back the bandages until he could see the streaks of red emanating from the wound. Bob looked away quickly. He had no desire to see the injury itself.


            “Well, that’s not good… right?”


            “Right.” Wade replaced the bandages. His expression wasn’t usually difficult to read beneath the mask, and right now he didn’t look happy. “Get some rest. I’m gonna go see if I can get Weasel again.” Wade snatched up the handheld and stood, leaving the cave even as Bob yelled at him to wait.


            He was getting a little sick of being left alone.







            Time passed; too much of it. He was miserable.


            The night air was humid and thick; or maybe the cave was just damp and his fever was making things worse. Bob couldn’t be sure, all he knew was that he wasn’t getting any rest at all. “I’m going to die here,” he groaned for the eighth time that night, sliding off the tarp with a pitiable moan. The cave floor was cooler on his skin, but it was also wet – and not a pleasant, cooling spring mist wet; a dirty, if the wound wasn’t infected, it is now sort of wet. “I’m going to die here.” – that made nine.


            Bob was so busy being unhappy, he didn’t notice when Wade re-entered the cave – but there he was. “I already told you I wouldn’t let you die, didn’t I?” Wade took the canteen from the tarp and upended it over a cloth. “Weasel’s working on the whole extraction thing. I considered dressing you up in an A.I.M. costume and seeing if they wouldn’t take you in at the base, but Weas assured me that henchman protocol has gotten a lot stricter ever since all those Hydra agents teleported themselves into prison cells.”


            Wade laid the cloth across Bob’s forehead. It hadn’t absorbed the water well, but the fabric was still moist and had adjusted to the cool temperature of the liquid. When Wade moved around to sit beside him, he realized it was the Deadpool mask. “Then I considered leaving you for the tiny moose. You hear about those people who are taken in by wolves and crap. But then you went and shot one…”


            “I didn’t mean to,” Bob said, not mentioning that he was pleased Wade hadn’t left him in the care of moose. He moved back onto the tarp, doing his best to get comfortable and failing.


            “I know, Bob. You thought it was a cave monster; honest mistake. I don’t think you’re going to get much sleep twitching around like that…”


            Bob couldn’t help it. The ground was too hard and he felt too sick. He had slept in some pretty odd places before; supply closets, a swamp, on the sofa lots of times. He still couldn’t get comfortable on the uneven cave ground. “Sorry, Mr. Wilson. I don’t think I can sleep… All these rocks are poking me in some pretty sensitive areas.” Bob tried moving onto his side, but a sharp pain in his shoulder wouldn’t allow it.


            He’d had enough. Bob sat up, and was working out a sleeping arrangement that involved leaning against his knees when Wade nudged him from behind. “Lean back.”




            “Just do it before I change my mind.”


            Bob settled back against Wade. He was tense at first, understandably nervous at the idea of sleeping against his boss. But it was more comfortable than the ground; exponentially so. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until now. Almost unconsciously, his body went limp; relaxing completely as he leaned his head against Wade’s chest.




            “Uh huh. A lot. Thanks.”


            “Good,” Wade said, taking the damp Deadpool mask from where it had fallen on the tarp and pressing it back to Bob’s forehead. “Because this feels kind of gay.”


            Bob moaned as water from the mask dripped down his face, offering much needed relief from the heat.


            “Don’t… do that again.”


            “Do what?”


            “Make that soft core porn noise.” Wade squeezed the mask so that the water came out all at once, leaving Bob to cough and choke and sputter a startled complaint. “That’s better. Now, don’t do anything. Don’t talk. Don’t move. Don’t make any miserable little noises.”


            Bob wheezed his first sharp breath since clearing mask-water from his airways.


            “There, like that. None of that.” Wade popped Bob on the head with the flat of his hand. “Just sleep.”


            Bob did his best to comply, but it was no good. After a face full of water, he just wasn’t in the mood for sleep. “Gay-stupid or gay-homosexual?”


            Wade made a point to pop him on the head again before asking, “What?”


            “When you said this feels gay; does it feel gay-stupid or gay-homosexual?”


            There was a pause. Wade shifted a little behind him. “What about gay-happy?”


            “Out of context, I assumed it wouldn’t be gay-happy.”


            “You’re right, I’m not happy.” Wade shifted again. “And I think I sort of missed the wagon when all the cool kids moved ‘gay’ into the derisive insult section of this century’s collection of hip jargon.”


            Bob had never possessed more than a very loose grasp on “cool”, young person vernacular. “My kids call me ‘gay’.”


            “Gay-stupid or gay-homosexual?”


            “I don’t know…”


            “Your kids sound pretty gay.”


            Bob smiled. He loved Terry and Howie, but they could be complete brats. Part of the blame lay with Bob. He wasn’t the strictest of parents, and it probably didn’t help that Allison took it upon herself to undermine his decisions on the rare occasion that he did discipline the children.


            Regardless, he wished he was with them now – but, just the kids. Not Allison. He’d been a little nervous around her ever since he discovered the payout on his life insurance policy had tripled in the last year – and without his arranging for it to do so.


            “I caught her cheating on me once.” A fever and lack of sleep in anything but a cave had made Bob more talkative than usual. “With a dental hygienist. She played it off like she was trying to spice things up in the bedroom. I knew she was lying… I’m not so sure Mike did.”


            Wait. Had he said that out loud?


            “What!” Wade couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice. “You kinky little pet-minion! You had a threesome?”


            “I didn’t mean to!” Bob assured him, his voice a little higher and more defensive than he would have liked it. “It’s just… we never had sex anymore and- Mr. Wilson, are you okay?”


            “Sorry, gag reflex. I don’t know if I’m just extremely fucking bored or what; but, believe it or not, I actually really want to hear this story. Keep going, Bob.”


            Bob gave an unhappy sigh and continued.  “I mean, she made me get this job with a fascist, Nazi organization that keeps me away from home all the time – and when I am home she’s never in the mood. So, I usually just take what I can get, you know? Geez, that makes me sound really desperate, doesn’t it… which, I guess, I am. So, it wasn’t so much about calling her bluff… I just wanted to get laid.”


            “I’ll have to have Weas give you lessons on how to pick yourself out a good hooker when we get home – Go on.”


            “Well, Mike was all for it. I mean, things started out really awkward, but it was actually kinda nice… except, Allison wasn’t very happy.”


            “Because she was trying to have an affair and three’s a crowd?”


            “Because she got left out…”


            There was a long stretch of silence. Behind Bob, Wade had suddenly gone quite tense. Finally, he ventured a quiet, perversely curious, “You were the woman, weren’t you?”


            “What?” Bob pulled away a little too fast, hurting his shoulder as he leaned forward and looked back at Wade. “Why would you - No! ...Yes.” Bob averted his eyes from Wade’s dumfounded expression, embarrassed and hurting and just plain humiliated. “She couldn’t even look at me for the next three days… and Mike kept leaving messages.”


            To Bob’s surprise, Wade reached forward and pulled him back. His arms remained around front, there to restrain Bob if he tried sitting up again. For some reason, it was comforting. “Allison sounds pretty gay too.”


            Bob laughed this time. He turned his head, leaning it against the side of Wade’s right arm and away from his injured shoulder. “What did Weasel say?”


            Wade paused the way a person pauses when they don’t want to tell the truth. “He’ll figure something out. That’s what geeks like him are for.” When Bob said nothing, Wade guessed what he was thinking. “I’m not going to let you die. Don’t make me tell you that again. It’ll be all right. I have a plan.”


            You have a plan?”


            “I can have plans!” Wade sounded almost offended. “It’s a good one too.”


            Bob should have been worried. If only out of habit, he wanted to be worried – but he was just so tired and far too thankful that, this time, he wasn’t being left alone with only the handheld for company… oh, and, sort of Weasel. (And, again, that didn't really count.) “Okay. I believe you.”


            “Really? I mean, damn straight you do – not straight heterosexual, but straight… oh, you know what I mean. Get some sleep. We leave first thing in the morning.”  

A/N: I have decided. There will be both sexy times and fluff and moderate amounts of angst amidst my usual mild-humor. (I hope I'm funny o.O) Anyway, I hope this chapter was decent. It goes without saying that comments are much appreciated. Cool people leave comments. You're cool, aren't you?
Current Mood:
sleepy sleepy
Current Music:
No Children - The Mountain Goats
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On July 9th, 2009 09:38 am (UTC), seiberwing commented:
You are killing me with the Bob-fluff, poor boy. Deadpool has a very deranged way of comforting people, but when it works it works well.

When it doesn't, very small moose die.
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On July 10th, 2009 05:10 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:
No tiny moose were harmed while writing this, I assure you. That's not to say I wouldn't try moose if someone offered it to me and said it was tasty. I don't play favorites with the meat I eat. I'm the jerk who picks up the can of dolphin-safe tuna and wonders what makes the dolphins so special.

Thanks for the comment ^-^.
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On July 10th, 2009 05:24 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:
And it makes me happy that you're enjoying the fic XD.

I must say, I get a little excited any time I see posts from you back on the comm. All I can think is, "Yay! There's going to be Bob content in there somewhere!"
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On July 9th, 2009 06:06 pm (UTC), violetjimjams commented:
Mike obviously has very good taste, and I for one want to see more of him.

*singsong* Bob's got a boyfriend. Who isn't Wade. And is likely more competition than his bitchy wife ever was...

Sicky cuddle times make me go Aww like I have a kitty playing with string in front of me.

Man, et tu, Weasel? You shouldn't pick on him so much.

...says the person who asked for him to get cancer. T-T
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On July 10th, 2009 05:32 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:
Lol, I don't have any more plans for Mike, I'm afraid. I've never been a fan of OCs. He's just a throw-away character named while I was itching to see more ReBoot reruns.

Mike the TV ftw. Someone really needs to get on the ball and release all the seasons and movies in a boxset.

Thanks for the comment!
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On July 10th, 2009 05:35 am (UTC), violetjimjams replied:
Mind if I borrow him, then?
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On July 10th, 2009 05:43 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:

The guy with only a name, a career, and a kinky sex life? ...why?
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On July 10th, 2009 06:26 am (UTC), violetjimjams replied:
Cuz I haz a leetle comic in mind and I would very much like to borrow our new Dental Hygienist friend. ^^
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On July 10th, 2009 06:37 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:
Lol, go for it.
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On July 9th, 2009 08:07 pm (UTC), space_fight commented:
I'm so gaaaaaaaaaaaaay for this fic, y'know.


Also, thinking about Allison getting left out? I lololololoved it.
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On July 10th, 2009 05:36 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:
Hehe, thank you ^-^. A text message at the end of C&D wasn't quite enough for me to NOT give Allison a hard time in fics.
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On July 9th, 2009 11:58 pm (UTC), alternatedoom commented:
This is awesome. Love Wade letting Bob rest against him, the mopping of his forehead with the mask.... ahh. Sexy and fluffy times are good. I approve.
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On July 10th, 2009 05:45 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:
Glad you're enjoying it! Mmm, sex fluff...
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On July 10th, 2009 05:49 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:
Aww, someone thinks I'm funny. You are my newest, favorite friend XD.

I'm glad you're enjoying it. It's been waaay too much fun to write.
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On July 15th, 2009 12:42 am (UTC), bloodyfire commented:
grrr. damn lj killing my comment! *domo*

Damn straight I'm cool but not straight as in heterosexual stright as in... yeah anyway


I love this fic to bits. it's funny and angsty and cute and just a great read ^_^

I look forward to your updates all the time (so much easier to follow over the kink meme

and your humor is gold. i love how bob killed a mini moose. ^_^

and hehe bob in a threesome that turned into a 2some and excluded that bitch allison.
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On July 16th, 2009 01:27 am (UTC), wilde_shade replied:
Hehe, thanks. I'd pay money (okay, not really) to know the statistic for how many of the world's intended threesomes unintentionally become twosomes.
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