A night on Providence

Nate simply groans his response and softly digs his fingertips into the curve of Wade’s jaw to guide his mouth back onto his cock, his head slightly tipping back. His hips roll forward to thrust lightly into Wade’s mouth, and back to press his arse into Wade’s rough hands.  “Wade…” He breathes, his voice low and rough in his throat. Apparently Wade’s quick wit wasn’t all that’d earned him the name ‘Merc with a mouth’. It’s been… Far too long to remember since Nate last felt such a perfect balance of satisfaction and teasing.  “Don’t stop.” 

A laugh tickles the back of his throat, there’s something about Nate taking control that excites him. Which is odd, because usually with a guy he’d pull away on instinct at it; but he trusts Nate, for some reason. And he doesn’t dwell on it, instead he continues sucking and rolling his tongue around the small amount of space inside his mouth that isn’t stuffed with Cable’s thick cock. 

He pauses at the head, a teasing glint in his eye as he kisses and licks the sensitive area. His eyes are almost daring Nathan to take control, to get rougher and more aggressive with him as he teases with his tongue.

With a sharp huff of air, Nate takes the bait and curls his fingers around the back of Wade’s head to continue fucking shallowly into his throat, using his grip on the merc’s jaw to pull him closer. Cable is all too aware of how fragile and breakable most people are, so he typically keeps his strength under firm restraint. But Wade is not like most people.  Of course, Nate doesn’t want to purposely hurt Wade, he just knows first-hand how durable the assassin can be. So he allows some of his caution to slip, his fingers firm and thrusts rough. Wade can handle it, practically begged him for it. He isn’t sadistic. Or... So he tells himself. 

A night on Providence

Nate continues kissing at Wade’s lips and down his throat as the merc guides him back to sit on his heels. A light frown turns his mouth when Wade pulls away, only to part with a groan when his rough hand strokes along his cock.  “Ngh… Wade…”  He gently strokes along Wade’s jaw and cups his cheek firmly, swiping a thumb across his defined cheekbone and biting his own lower lip. The wicked gleam to Wade’s eyes gets his blood burning, and a low groan breathes from his throat when those slick lips seal around the head of his cock.  “Fuck.”

Wade hummed gently as he started to move his head back and forth, slowly teasing him with his tongue as he did so. He swallowed in the back of his throat, his hands groping at Nate’s behind and forcing him deeper inside his mouth.

He peered up at the wannabe messiah, an innocent look in his eye juxtaposing the fithly things his mouth was occupied with. He hollowed his cheeks as he pulled away, a line of drool dangling from his lips as he smiled up at the mutant.

“How do you like the massage?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Nate simply groans his response and softly digs his fingertips into the curve of Wade’s jaw to guide his mouth back onto his cock, his head slightly tipping back. His hips roll forward to thrust lightly into Wade’s mouth, and back to press his arse into Wade’s rough hands.  “Wade...” He breathes, his voice low and rough in his throat. Apparently Wade’s quick wit wasn’t all that’d earned him the name ‘Merc with a mouth’. It’s been... Far too long to remember since Nate last felt such a perfect balance of satisfaction and teasing.  “Don’t stop.” 

A night on Providence

Nate forces himself to allow the affection embrace at first, but finds himself returning it after a moment’s hesitation, cupping the back of Wade’s head and gently stroking down his spine. It’s been so long since he’s been close to someone like this, he’d almost forgotten how it feels to have warmth blossom in his chest. And how vulnerable it makes him feel. Trust Wade to elicit such strong, opposing feelings in him at the same time.  The warm turns slightly sour as Wade continues, and Nate turns his head to hide his grimace in the crook of the merc’s neck. Even after all these years, it’s difficult to accept that the TO is a part of him. He’s never considered it as anything more than a curse, a burden that was meant to kill him and still sucks some of his powers. For Wade to enjoy the metal more than what his arm should be…  He shoves the thought away and pulls back to press a deep kiss to Wade’s mouth, silencing his words and biting his lower lip. The assassin’s preferences shouldn’t matter to him. They’re not lovers, and there’s no romantic attachment between them. Allowing something as trivial and childish as appearances affect him is a useless distraction.  “I believe you were begging me for more.” He reminds lowly between heavy kisses, cupping the side of Wade’s neck and slowly grinding down against his crotch. 

“I mean, I think all of you is sexy, but it’s not exactly every guy you meet who has a badass cyborg arm, and, unh…” his words trailed off at the grinding, eyes drifting close.

“You gotta stop teasing me like this, shit…”

Wade guides Nate back to a kneeling position, untangling himself to he can sit on all fours in front of him, caressing his cock with one hand and licking his lips. His eyes flick up to Nate’s with a devilish smirk, licking a long line along his length before taking the head into his mouth and sucking.

He pulled away, looking up again, “You really need to learn to relax, dude. Let me help you with that…”

With that, he swallowed as much of Cable’s cock as he could manage – which was a lot, apparently. Either Wade regularly trained his gag reflex, or the healing factor made it easy to control, because he didn’t seem to flinch as Cable’s length hit the back of his throat.

Nate continues kissing at Wade’s lips and down his throat as the merc guides him back to sit on his heels. A light frown turns his mouth when Wade pulls away, only to part with a groan when his rough hand strokes along his cock.  “Ngh... Wade...”  He gently strokes along Wade’s jaw and cups his cheek firmly, swiping a thumb across his defined cheekbone and biting his own lower lip. The wicked gleam to Wade’s eyes gets his blood burning, and a low groan breathes from his throat when those slick lips seal around the head of his cock.  “Fuck.”

A night on Providence

A crease forms between Nate’s eyebrows at Wade’s questions. The first was obvious; Wade’s fully aware of his abilities. Probably just an exclamation of surprise. 

The ‘why’ seems equally, if not more blatantly obvious. Such stark cold can’t be comfortable, let alone pleasurable against Wade’s most sensitive areas. There’s a reason why people take cold showers to soothe arousal. Besides, he’s aware that the TO is unsightly. It’s called a disease and a virus for a reason. It’s an infection, and he’s made a habit of masking it when intimate, for his partner’s sake.  Nate brushes off the questions as more of Wade’s incessant rambling, trailing deep kisses and bites down the merc’s throat to his collarbone, his tongue tracing over a line of scarring. His finger curls and twists to accommodate a second, both steadily working Wade open further. 

“Hey– asshole– I asked you– a question!”

He gasps between words, but a firm hand grips the back of Nate’s hair and yanks, forcing him to face the mercenary.

“Don’t fucking ignore me, I hate it when you do that! What cha’ doing, man? I’m here butt naked with your fucking fingers inside my asshole – butt naked! – and you’re hiding your TO from me? What the hell?” 

There’s hurt in his tone, mixed with confusion.

“That’s not fair. One: why do you get to hide when I’m completley fucking naked? I don’t get naked for anyone, you jerk. My last relationship took me three fucking months to fuck her without my costume. And let me tell you, even after three fucking months, she couldn’t look at me for more than a few seconds without looking away or whatever. Do you know what it’s like, to never be able to have sex without your partner wanting to look away whenever they can? To have people look at you like you’re a fucking monster and you’re not even human because your body physically repulses them?” his eyes started to swell, “So how dare you. How dare you hide from me when I can’t hide. How dare you think you need to hide from me, of all people. Especially when you’re not even – you’re not even ugly like I am. You’re all – pretty, and shit. Fuck you. Fuck you.”

His eyes were all leaky behind the aggression, which only made him more angry at himself for loosing his grip on his emotion and reacting in such a way. He was panicking and he couldn’t really explain why.

Nate stiffens and gapes at Wade and his sudden outburst, his hand pulling away and resting on the sheets.  “Wade, I-”  His words cut out when Wade continues, his jaw tensing against the second barrage he’s weathered tonight. Ice drips into his veins and seizes his heart, a deep, stinging emotion that aches to his bones filling his chest. The entire image he’d built up around the mercenary is slowly torn apart. All that bravado, the cocky flirtation and loud confidence… He’d known for a while that Wade was usually being exaggerative, but he never knew the extent. Wade’s words cut him to the core, and he exhales sharply with a sudden realization.  He’d had no idea.  Thinking on it now, Nate curses himself for being so ignorantly blind. All the clues are there, he’d just been too thickheaded to piece it together. Wade was born and raised in an environment vastly different from his own, and Nate knew how people in this time regarded those who were different. Wade is completely justified in being angry with him. He hadn’t been thinking.  With a low sound of distress, he cups Wade’s jaw and gently strokes over his cheekbones and down the contours of his face, petting over his head and leaning down to press a kiss to his lips in an attempt to mimic what he’s come to know as soothing. He isn’t entirely sure when Wade’s emotional wellbeing became any of his concern, but sitting idly by while Wade is so obviously upset by something he’s done is an impossibility. Besides, the ache in his heart is a force to be reckoned with.  “Wade, I apologize. I didn’t know, I wasn’t thinking. It’s a habit, I know the cold isn’t-… That was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.” The words are foreign on his tongue, but he forces them anyways. He doesn’t apologize often, doesn’t have to. Being able to read peoples’ thoughts usually helps him avoid situations like this. But with Wade, he’s blind. And that blindness hurt him. 

He let’s out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around Nate’s neck to hold him close. He sits there, face buried in his neck affectionately as he regains his resolve. After a long moment of cuddling and warmth, he let’s out a short laugh. “Sorry for ruining the moment.” A hand traces the contors of muscle on Nate’s back, admiring the shape and textures. “I like the metal better, anyway, I think. The texture is so… different, so you, and I… heh. Bit of temperature play never hurt anyone. I’ve been… wondering for a while now how your hand would feel on my body. Fantasising…” He could already feel himself getting hard again at that thought. He licked his lips, kissing Nate’s earlobe with a grin. “I kinda do that a lot, y'know. Fantasise. About this… And, I like it kinky. In case you haven’t already gathered that. So… where were we?”

Nate forces himself to allow the affection embrace at first, but finds himself returning it after a moment’s hesitation, cupping the back of Wade’s head and gently stroking down his spine. It’s been so long since he’s been close to someone like this, he’d almost forgotten how it feels to have warmth blossom in his chest. And how vulnerable it makes him feel. Trust Wade to elicit such strong, opposing feelings in him at the same time.  The warm turns slightly sour as Wade continues, and Nate turns his head to hide his grimace in the crook of the merc’s neck. Even after all these years, it’s difficult to accept that the TO is a part of him. He’s never considered it as anything more than a curse, a burden that was meant to kill him and still sucks some of his powers. For Wade to enjoy the metal more than what his arm should be...  He shoves the thought away and pulls back to press a deep kiss to Wade’s mouth, silencing his words and biting his lower lip. The assassin’s preferences shouldn’t matter to him. They’re not lovers, and there’s no romantic attachment between them. Allowing something as trivial and childish as appearances affect him is a useless distraction.  “I believe you were begging me for more.” He reminds lowly between heavy kisses, cupping the side of Wade’s neck and slowly grinding down against his crotch. 

○☜

@metal-mutant-messiah where is the lie

There is no lie

A night on Providence

A crease forms between Nate’s eyebrows at Wade’s questions. The first was obvious; Wade’s fully aware of his abilities. Probably just an exclamation of surprise. 

The ‘why’ seems equally, if not more blatantly obvious. Such stark cold can’t be comfortable, let alone pleasurable against Wade’s most sensitive areas. There’s a reason why people take cold showers to soothe arousal. Besides, he’s aware that the TO is unsightly. It’s called a disease and a virus for a reason. It’s an infection, and he’s made a habit of masking it when intimate, for his partner’s sake.  Nate brushes off the questions as more of Wade’s incessant rambling, trailing deep kisses and bites down the merc’s throat to his collarbone, his tongue tracing over a line of scarring. His finger curls and twists to accommodate a second, both steadily working Wade open further. 

“Hey– asshole– I asked you– a question!”

He gasps between words, but a firm hand grips the back of Nate’s hair and yanks, forcing him to face the mercenary.

“Don’t fucking ignore me, I hate it when you do that! What cha’ doing, man? I’m here butt naked with your fucking fingers inside my asshole – butt naked! – and you’re hiding your TO from me? What the hell?” 

There’s hurt in his tone, mixed with confusion.

“That’s not fair. One: why do you get to hide when I’m completley fucking naked? I don’t get naked for anyone, you jerk. My last relationship took me three fucking months to fuck her without my costume. And let me tell you, even after three fucking months, she couldn’t look at me for more than a few seconds without looking away or whatever. Do you know what it’s like, to never be able to have sex without your partner wanting to look away whenever they can? To have people look at you like you’re a fucking monster and you’re not even human because your body physically repulses them?” his eyes started to swell, “So how dare you. How dare you hide from me when I can’t hide. How dare you think you need to hide from me, of all people. Especially when you’re not even – you’re not even ugly like I am. You’re all – pretty, and shit. Fuck you. Fuck you.”

His eyes were all leaky behind the aggression, which only made him more angry at himself for loosing his grip on his emotion and reacting in such a way. He was panicking and he couldn’t really explain why.

Nate stiffens and gapes at Wade and his sudden outburst, his hand pulling away and resting on the sheets.  “Wade, I-”  His words cut out when Wade continues, his jaw tensing against the second barrage he’s weathered tonight. Ice drips into his veins and seizes his heart, a deep, stinging emotion that aches to his bones filling his chest. The entire image he’d built up around the mercenary is slowly torn apart. All that bravado, the cocky flirtation and loud confidence... He’d known for a while that Wade was usually being exaggerative, but he never knew the extent. Wade’s words cut him to the core, and he exhales sharply with a sudden realization.  He’d had no idea.  Thinking on it now, Nate curses himself for being so ignorantly blind. All the clues are there, he’d just been too thickheaded to piece it together. Wade was born and raised in an environment vastly different from his own, and Nate knew how people in this time regarded those who were different. Wade is completely justified in being angry with him. He hadn’t been thinking.  With a low sound of distress, he cups Wade’s jaw and gently strokes over his cheekbones and down the contours of his face, petting over his head and leaning down to press a kiss to his lips in an attempt to mimic what he’s come to know as soothing. He isn’t entirely sure when Wade’s emotional wellbeing became any of his concern, but sitting idly by while Wade is so obviously upset by something he’s done is an impossibility. Besides, the ache in his heart is a force to be reckoned with.  “Wade, I apologize. I didn’t know, I wasn’t thinking. It’s a habit, I know the cold isn’t-... That was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.” The words are foreign on his tongue, but he forces them anyways. He doesn’t apologize often, doesn’t have to. Being able to read peoples’ thoughts usually helps him avoid situations like this. But with Wade, he’s blind. And that blindness hurt him. 

A night on Providence

With a low groan, Nate leans down and presses a deep kiss against Wade’s lips to silence his pleas, his finger pressing in fully. The heat between Wade’s thighs immediately begins to spread through his hand, contrasting and warming the cool metal.  The virus… The cybernetic disease that he’s lived with for longer than he can remember. Time has long since become an irrelevant, fluid concept, but to him, it only seems in recent years that he’s stopped sacrificing some of his telekineses in order to mask it’s presence. And even now, its only out of necessity. He can’t afford to spare a shred of his powers towards something as materialistic as appearances. It’s bad enough that he has to constantly use his abilities to prevent it from killing him.  Still, its often difficult to look at, if he’s being honest with himself. The metal plating creeping across his chest and spanning the left side of his back is lined with rough scar tissue, and only serves as a reminder of weakness. He’s lived with it pretty much his entire life, but it’s still hard to accept and acknowledge. It’s Apocalypse’s curse. So he keeps it out of sight as he continues working his finger into Wade, curling it repeatedly to stimulate the sensitive bundle of nerves inside. His free hand traces down the curves of Wade’s side and along his jaw, a thumb stroking across his cheek. The assassin tastes like spice and musk and the air right before rain, and Nate offhandedly wonders if its possible to get addicted to the way someone whines against your lips. “More?”  

“Hnng. Nate…” 

Wade squirms as his arsehole is explored, barely able to keep kissing his lover with all the lurid sounds escaping his lips, gasping for air in between them. He wraps his legs around the time traveller’s waist, pulling him closer and rutting his hips against his hand. His fingers entwine in his hair, keeping his head in place so he can gaze into those old, beautiful eyes.

“YES, Nate, MORE! I need more.”

He looks down, realising the coolness has vanished, curiosity and confusion marking his features.

One of the things he finds visually attractive about Nate is the TO. It’s alien and exotic, and for a long time he’d wondered how that would feel inside him. He wanted to experience it, all the texture and coolness of the metal – the unique and special part of Nate that made his body curiously striking.

He’d never found it grotesque. It had never even crossed his mind as something he could think. He’d seen far more shocking things in monster girl porn on the internet, anyway. 

“How’d you do that? Your arm… Why? You don’t have to… I like your arm. It’s badass. And sexy.”

He searches Nate’s eyes for an answer, not really understanding how Nate felt about his appearance when it came to the TO.

A crease forms between Nate’s eyebrows at Wade’s questions. The first was obvious; Wade’s fully aware of his abilities. Probably just an exclamation of surprise. 

The ‘why’ seems equally, if not more blatantly obvious. Such stark cold can’t be comfortable, let alone pleasurable against Wade’s most sensitive areas. There’s a reason why people take cold showers to soothe arousal. Besides, he’s aware that the TO is unsightly. It’s called a disease and a virus for a reason. It’s an infection, and he’s made a habit of masking it when intimate, for his partner’s sake.  Nate brushes off the questions as more of Wade’s incessant rambling, trailing deep kisses and bites down the merc’s throat to his collarbone, his tongue tracing over a line of scarring. His finger curls and twists to accommodate a second, both steadily working Wade open further. 

A night on Providence

“No–” he snaps, half-glaring at the question. Of course not, idiot, it’s the middle of the night.

He watches as Nate eyes him up, and looks away in embarrassment. He isn’t used to people looking at him, completely naked, without a hint of disgust or repulsion at his disfigurement. And Nate’s eyes are full of lust, of dominating desire, and Wade isn’t sure if he’s confused or aroused by that. It’s been a good five or ten years since Weapon X, but he still can’t look himself in the mirror without doing a double-take; so why should Nate?

How was it that someone like Cable, who he’d fought with and tried to kill on multiple occasions – could have this affect on him? Ever since they first met, he’d been curious about the soldier. Both from a professional admiration standpoint, and this one.

He lets out a moan as Nathan begins to finger him, his entrance tight with underuse but his healing factor catches up quickly enough, helping along with the practical side of the foreplay. The metal is cool and strange inside him, nothing like flesh or latex as he was used to. His hips twitch in invitation, wanting more despite the tightness and the pain.

“Ow, ow, ow– more, oh god, more–”

With a low groan, Nate leans down and presses a deep kiss against Wade’s lips to silence his pleas, his finger pressing in fully. The heat between Wade’s thighs immediately begins to spread through his hand, contrasting and warming the cool metal.  The virus... The cybernetic disease that he’s lived with for longer than he can remember. Time has long since become an irrelevant, fluid concept, but to him, it only seems in recent years that he’s stopped sacrificing some of his telekineses in order to mask it’s presence. And even now, its only out of necessity. He can’t afford to spare a shred of his powers towards something as materialistic as appearances. It’s bad enough that he has to constantly use his abilities to prevent it from killing him.  Still, its often difficult to look at, if he’s being honest with himself. The metal plating creeping across his chest and spanning the left side of his back is lined with rough scar tissue, and only serves as a reminder of weakness. He’s lived with it pretty much his entire life, but it’s still hard to accept and acknowledge. It’s Apocalypse’s curse. So he keeps it out of sight as he continues working his finger into Wade, curling it repeatedly to stimulate the sensitive bundle of nerves inside. His free hand traces down the curves of Wade’s side and along his jaw, a thumb stroking across his cheek. The assassin tastes like spice and musk and the air right before rain, and Nate offhandedly wonders if its possible to get addicted to the way someone whines against your lips. “More?”  

A night on Providence

“Hnng–” he squirms as Nate sinks his teeth into his flesh, his stomach fluttering and his head spinning instantaneously. 

Who’d have thought Cable would be even more of a control freak in the sack. Who’d have thought Wade would find that so god damn erotic.

“Fuck– you–” he managed, weakly, although the look in his eyes and the twitch of his hardness as he meekly struggles against the metal hand now pinning him down suggests a slightly different pronoun.

Wade gasps as their flesh touches, partially at the sensual sensation and partly out of a disbelief that this is happening – that he, Deadpool, was in bed and naked and getting sexy with Nathan Fucking Summers. He wondered if this was just another wet dream, like that one he had of The Cat last week.

“I– shit, yes, oh my god is this actually happening or am I dreaming again? I mean – not again, I mean, I totally don’t have wet dreams about you on a regular basis, okay maybe I’ve had a couple but I mean – no, wait, no! Shut up, Wade – I mean, uh. Are we gonna have a safeword here? ‘Cause, I mean, holyfuck, didn’t quite expect you to be this forceful I mean it’s hot as fuck but, hooboy…”

“If that would make you more comfortable, go ahead.”  The assassin’s affirmation and displayed pliancy slightly softens his tone, but the hot adrenaline racing through his veins like licks of fire remain unhindered. He tightens his grip on Wade’s wrists as they test the firmness of it and shifts his hips to line up his cock with Wade’s as he thrusts.  In reality, Nate has no intention to hurt Wade or any bedmates he’s had and may have, but especially having not discussed it first. Were the circumstances different and violence was the answer, sure. He’s harmed Wade and been harmed by Wade. But intercourse requires trust. Trust that you’ll stop when someone says stop, or alter things when someone says no. And that is a boundary he is not willing to cross.  That said, the idea of Wade’s utter submission could be his personal aphrodisiac. His brute strength and talent is more than admirable, and he’s proved himself as quite the worthy advisory. Subduing that and being the object of the assassin’s devotion and capitulation is a lovely image. Those whimpering moans coming from Wade’s mouth, and knowing that he’s the one causing them, is fuel to the fire. 

“Are you gonna tease me like this all night, you asshole?” he whined, squirming underneath him in desperation. The frottage was hot, but didn’t exactly satisfy the need he felt.

He wrapped his legs around Nate’s waist in an attempt to get more of his body, more of the friction and sexual gratification. His breathing was heavy and loud and undignified – he was so horny, so desperate for this, and was already leaking precum.

“Please, Nate!”

Nate quirks an eyebrow.  “You’ve got other places to be, Wilson?” He asks lowly, pulling away to carelessly discard the boxers and let his gaze wander the newly exposed skin- and catch his breath.  The assassin’s always been unconventionally attractive in Nate’s eyes, if he ever allowed himself to think on it. Which he did not. The ever-shifting pattern of ragged scar tissue, shiny and smooth in some places and rough and calloused in others... Even the indecipherable chaos of Wade’s mind intrigued and allured him, as frustrating as it was. A strange desire to explore every ridge and crevice of Wade with his lips briefly crosses his mind before quickly being brushed off. Wade is the biggest thorn in Nate’s side that he’s ever encountered, in all the universes he’s travelled. No one has frustrated him more, but there are few that he trusts as deeply. With a sharp exhale, he shakes the distracting train of thought from his mind and leans over Wade to retrieve a small bottle of lube from his nightstand. He makes quick work of coating the fingers of his metal hand in the liquid and circles the rim of Wade’s entrance teasingly before easing one in, his free hand steadying on Wade’s thigh, 

A night on Providence

“Hnng–” he squirms as Nate sinks his teeth into his flesh, his stomach fluttering and his head spinning instantaneously. 

Who’d have thought Cable would be even more of a control freak in the sack. Who’d have thought Wade would find that so god damn erotic.

“Fuck– you–” he managed, weakly, although the look in his eyes and the twitch of his hardness as he meekly struggles against the metal hand now pinning him down suggests a slightly different pronoun.

Wade gasps as their flesh touches, partially at the sensual sensation and partly out of a disbelief that this is happening – that he, Deadpool, was in bed and naked and getting sexy with Nathan Fucking Summers. He wondered if this was just another wet dream, like that one he had of The Cat last week.

“I– shit, yes, oh my god is this actually happening or am I dreaming again? I mean – not again, I mean, I totally don’t have wet dreams about you on a regular basis, okay maybe I’ve had a couple but I mean – no, wait, no! Shut up, Wade – I mean, uh. Are we gonna have a safeword here? ‘Cause, I mean, holyfuck, didn’t quite expect you to be this forceful I mean it’s hot as fuck but, hooboy…”

“If that would make you more comfortable, go ahead.”  The assassin’s affirmation and displayed pliancy slightly softens his tone, but the hot adrenaline racing through his veins like licks of fire remain unhindered. He tightens his grip on Wade’s wrists as they test the firmness of it and shifts his hips to line up his cock with Wade’s as he thrusts.  In reality, Nate has no intention to hurt Wade or any bedmates he’s had and may have, but especially having not discussed it first. Were the circumstances different and violence was the answer, sure. He’s harmed Wade and been harmed by Wade. But intercourse requires trust. Trust that you’ll stop when someone says stop, or alter things when someone says no. And that is a boundary he is not willing to cross.  That said, the idea of Wade’s utter submission could be his personal aphrodisiac. His brute strength and talent is more than admirable, and he’s proved himself as quite the worthy advisory. Subduing that and being the object of the assassin’s devotion and capitulation is a lovely image. Those whimpering moans coming from Wade’s mouth, and knowing that he’s the one causing them, is fuel to the fire. 

A night on Providence

Wade let’s out a series of whines and moans as he does this, his heart hammering in his chest as Nate throws him on the bed. He looks up with curious eyes, biting his lip as he strips – his gaze lowering, blinking in semi-disbelief at the sight. Nate wasn’t compensating for anything with those massive guns for his. Far from it, in fact…

“Oh yeah? Wanna demonstrate for me, big boy?” he grinned, thrusting his hips into Nate’s palm, a filthy look daring him to do his worst.

His hands explore the newly exposed flesh, discovering the extent of Nathan’s techno-organics – where the metal ends at his hips, the firmness of his ass. He’s facinated by the metal, the texture of it against his palms. He wonders what it would be like to be finger-fucked by Cable. Or jerked off.

Wade licks his lips, bringing his hands between them; tracing his fingertips along the lines of muscle of Nate’s lower torso. He doesn’t touch his ‘prize’, but traces his fingers just close enough to cause Nate to shiver in anticipation. Wade places a hand over the one Nate is using to cup his manhood, grinding himself against it before pushing him away so he can tug at the waistband of his boxers.

“This might get in the way, though…”

Lips work down Wade’s throat, over his collarbone and to the juncture of his neck, and Nate only presses firmly against the push, growling dangerously against the skin under his mouth. A sizable handful of people have frustratedly referred to him as a control freak in the past, and though Nate has never acknowledged the title, he easily admits to the fact that he likes to be in charge when he’s most vulnerable. And nothing makes him more vulnerable than sex. Especially sex with the person who’s tried to kill him on more than one occasion.  So when Wade pushes for more control, his adrenaline flares, his teeth sinking into the flesh of Wade’s throat. “No.” He warns lowly, pulling the merc’s hands away and pinning them over his head, his metal fingers curling around his wrists to lock them both in place. “We do this, it’s on my terms.”  Grinding slowly against Wade’s covered tent, he hooks a finger of his free hand under the waist of the boxers and firmly tugs them down. A low groan escapes his throat when the heated flesh of the assassin’s cock brushes against his own, and he ruts forward again to chase the hot sensation.  “Work for you?” 

A night on Providence

“Shut up, Wade.” Nate snarls lowly into Wade’s mouth, silencing him with a deep, claiming kiss. His hips continue to roll and rut against Wade’s as he bites on the mercenary’s lower lip, grinding their crotches together to create delicious -yet maddening- friction.  His words are commanding and aggressive, mixing frustration and anger with passion and the sexual tension he’d sensed was building for weeks. In all honesty, there’s truth to Wade’s words. Having been so busy with running the island and keeping everything afloat- literally, the only reprieve he’d been able to get was from his own hand. Wade making his jokes and lingering glances had only fueled the fire. Nate could only contain it for so long. 

   Wade lets out another whine, the friction between them is maddening and he wants more. Images of filthy and depraved sex fill his mind, of submitting and being used in a way that could easily be seen as perverted or gross if anyone were to look inside his imagination. He realised then how much he trusted Nate, that despite everything between them he really could, and really wanted, to be submissive towards the other man.

   A cocky smile occupies his lips, “Why don’t you make me, Nate? You know I won’t shut up on my own. Not for you, not for anyone.”

Nate responds with a low growl, stepping back from the wall and turning to cross the room in a few long strides, nails digging into Wade’s back and his ass to keep the merc’s legs around his waist. He dumps the assassin on his bed and smoothly strips before crawling over him, claiming his lips in a searing kiss.  “I’m sure I could find a better use for your mouth.” He threatens between deep kisses, palming the bulge in Wade’s pants and resting on a forearm beside his head.  A voice in the back of Nate’s lustful thoughts reminds him of just how bad a decision that taking Wade to bed is, but its instinctively brushed off and subdued as an errant thought from someone close by. As much pride as he takes in his logic and level-headedness, all thought is apparently being dictated by his other head. 

A night on Providence

   A small sound escapes his lips as he’s pulled closer to the time traveller, his arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt to draw him closer still. They kiss, deep and long and aggressive – their lips at war with one another, competing for dominance. Wade wraps his legs around Nate, guiding his hands in a request to lift him up.

   He’s hard and all the weeks of stolen looks and lurid fantasising has left him eager for this moment, yet his resentment for the mutant and their past encounters still lingers – presenting itself in an fierce passion as he grips Nathan’s body, grinding against him and balling his hands into fists as he grips his hair. He lets out a frustrated growl  in his fervour, wanting more of Cable’s body and heated affection.

Nate immediately wraps his arms around Wade’s hips, fingertips raking along his thighs and clutching at his ass to hoist him up and close. With a low snarl, he steps back into his room and kicks the door shut, turning to slam the assassin clinging to him up against the wall. He continues to bite and suck at Wade’s lips, palming the curve of his arse.  The kiss shuts off his better judgement, soothing his headache in an intoxicating reprieve from responsibility and judgement. With the mercenary in his arms, doing that filthy thing with his tongue, the stressors of the day melt from his mind. With Wade so close, he doesn’t have to worry about what damage he could be causing. Things he shouldn’t have to worry about if Wade would just fucking behave. He growls harshly and shoves his hips firmly into Wade’s at the thought, if only to bruise him for however shortly his healing factor will allow. 

Wade grunts as he’s slammed against the wall. Nate’s strong as hell, and in his passion apparently his usually controlled composure has been forgotten – he has to admit, it’s pretty sexy. To see this side of him was a little threatening – the guy had mailed him home the first time they met. 

Kinda hard not to respect, even admire, a guy who could beat him in a fight and then humiliate him to top it all off. But this was a diffrent kind of agression; this was heated, animalistic. It made Wade tremble in his arms, a shiver run up his spine. 

A suprised, yet no less aroused, yelp escapes as Nathan thrusts against him. He feels the blood rush to his already mostly-hard cock, bringing it to fullness. He rolls his head back, letting out a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a whine. He rolls his hips in circular motions, grinding against the other’s anatomy, hands tangling themselves in Cable’s hair once more. 

“Fuck, Nate, you’re so – rough! So – sexy!”

“Shut up, Wade.” Nate snarls lowly into Wade’s mouth, silencing him with a deep, claiming kiss. His hips continue to roll and rut against Wade’s as he bites on the mercenary’s lower lip, grinding their crotches together to create delicious -yet maddening- friction.  His words are commanding and aggressive, mixing frustration and anger with passion and the sexual tension he’d sensed was building for weeks. In all honesty, there’s truth to Wade’s words. Having been so busy with running the island and keeping everything afloat- literally, the only reprieve he’d been able to get was from his own hand. Wade making his jokes and lingering glances had only fueled the fire. Nate could only contain it for so long. 

A night on Providence

   A small sound escapes his lips as he’s pulled closer to the time traveller, his arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt to draw him closer still. They kiss, deep and long and aggressive – their lips at war with one another, competing for dominance. Wade wraps his legs around Nate, guiding his hands in a request to lift him up.

   He’s hard and all the weeks of stolen looks and lurid fantasising has left him eager for this moment, yet his resentment for the mutant and their past encounters still lingers – presenting itself in an fierce passion as he grips Nathan’s body, grinding against him and balling his hands into fists as he grips his hair. He lets out a frustrated growl  in his fervour, wanting more of Cable’s body and heated affection.

Nate immediately wraps his arms around Wade’s hips, fingertips raking along his thighs and clutching at his ass to hoist him up and close. With a low snarl, he steps back into his room and kicks the door shut, turning to slam the assassin clinging to him up against the wall. He continues to bite and suck at Wade’s lips, palming the curve of his arse.  The kiss shuts off his better judgement, soothing his headache in an intoxicating reprieve from responsibility and judgement. With the mercenary in his arms, doing that filthy thing with his tongue, the stressors of the day melt from his mind. With Wade so close, he doesn’t have to worry about what damage he could be causing. Things he shouldn’t have to worry about if Wade would just fucking behave. He growls harshly and shoves his hips firmly into Wade’s at the thought, if only to bruise him for however shortly his healing factor will allow. 

A night on Providence

Nate stands his ground under the barrage, arms crossed and jaw set. It’s a fair accusation, he supposes. His skills with people outside of reading their thoughts is rather lacking, so Wade is a completely undecipherable jumble of confusing emotions and lack of reason to him. Pathos and Logos warring in his head whenever his thoughts turn to the merc.  But Wade’s claim leaves him stunned, tearing his surety away and allowing him to be shoved a step backwards. Wade… Likes him. Likes him? Likes him. Wade likes him. His expression turns puzzled, this new information refusing to compute. “… What?”

   Wade glares. He looks like he’s about to punch him. Then, with a disgruntled noise, he takes another stride towards Nate and kisses him, angrily; fingers locking in his white hair to help pull himself up on his toes. 

   The kiss was rough, but passionate. All teeth and tongues, frustration and desire guiding him more  than sensibility or rationality. He’d already made a fool of himself, one more rejection wouldn’t make much of a difference.

   When their lips parted, the aggression in his eyes visibly melted away to reveal the fear and hurt beneath. He stared at Nate for a moment, ready to bolt, depending on his next move. For now, though, his legs seemed to be made of stone in that he couldn’t move them if he tried. His heart beat so fast and so loud he could swear it would burst out of his chest any moment.

Nate stills the moment Wade’s lips crash against his own; such force and aggression behind them that their teeth clack together. It’s rough and angry and heated, with an undertone of true passion that Nate can’t quite figure out. He stays rooted to the spot throughout the duration of the all-too-brief kiss, his eyes wide and hands hovering in uncertainty. 

But then the kiss ends and Wade is pulling away from his mouth, pain and terror clear in his gorgeous, warm eyes. A moment of panic seizes Nate’s chest at that look and the sudden threat of distance. He finds himself wrapping his arms around Wade’s back to clutch him close, his lips desperately chasing back that taste and aggression, and matching it with his own.

Wade’s hate, he can weather. His affection, he decides he welcomes. But the idea of indifference... Of Wade developing apathy towards him... That’s too much to bear.