Uh-huh. [A little dismissive, mostly because he's distracted. His mental faculties are suddenly swept dramatically off their feet. He's experienced fondness before. He's also experienced horniness from time to time. He rarely allows himself to feel things at this level of intensity.
Unsure how to cope with it, he's visibly dumbfounded before he finally finds some words.]
You're a brain injury.
[He fires back, viciously articulate and absolutely not resorting to Wade's type of defence.
But he is trying to pay a compliment, because Wade is a brain injury that makes him stupider with his presence. And he is fond of him, sincerely. He gives him a lingering, cryptic look as he releases Wade's boner and rolls off him.
His metal hand reaches around the back of Wade's neck, guiding his head toward his lap. Not unlike the way Wade guided him to his dick moments before.]
I'm your brain injury. Permanent. Debilitating. Frequently causing migraines.
[Sure, he could tease Cable ruthlessly about both that expression and the fact he seems to lost complete faculties of his witty insults (no more mentions of clownery?) because Wade's at his same baseline of usual stupidity, but honest to god? He's so into it. He's so into it he's not gonna bring it up because then it might turn into a thing, and he wants to hear Cable say something else stupid, especially mid-fuck.
Wade easily slips to his knees, only taking long enough to get his fucking pants off. They're just in the way and if he's gonna be hard, he's gonna be hard and freeballing it, baby. Literally. If he's not already turned off by Wade's weird cancerous cock, he's not gonna be turned off by anything.]
But not erectile dysfunction, thank god.
[Oh, there's some of that Cable witticism.] I got a whole lot more mouth than I got money.
[At least he's not too interested in teasing it out to an annoying level, though. (Yet.) He's all method here, pushing whatever clothing's still remaining out of his way to get to Cable's cock, scooting himself between his spread legs, which are giving just enough room for Wade's weirdly big shoulders. Wade gives him a salacious glance upwards -- somewhat offset by how dewy his brown eyes are -- his hand rolling over Cable's dick with a quick one-two stroke (just like the horny romance novels, a little spit goes a long way) right before popping his mottled lips over the tip, wet with a swipe of his tongue.
He goes at it like a soldier with a mission.
The moan he gives isn't put-on. No, that's authentic, high-grade horny buffoonery. AAA Canadian wish fulfillment. And mouth fulfillment.]
[As Wade will feel with his mouth, Cable is not turned off by anything he's seeing. Though he's not the type to say something trite about scars being beautiful, it is a feature he feels he has in common with Wade. Not the same, but bodily disfigurement is something he shares with him. And he is, regrettably, incredibly cute. Which is also not a word Cable likes to use. It's just the one that sticks.
He does quietly wonder if they'll ever talk about that, since his fingertips are tracing shapes over the topographical map that is Wade's shoulders.
Unsurprisingly, Wade is very good at this. He's a lot of talk, but he's not all talk. He gets the highest honour a man can get out of Cable-- a small, pleased huff as he relaxes into getting his dick sucked. His fingers run along Wade's spine, down his neck to his back and up again.]
You're very good at this.
[Some things don't need to stay secret in the internal monologue. Not when Cable's feeling particularly stupid. He meets Wade's big, brown eyes with his mismatched ones. It's still glowing, which means Wade is doing something right. He's also doing something right when the light disappears, because it means Cable is closing his eyes.
His hips roll up to meet Wade's mouth, murmuring:]
[Okay, but he is cute. Nine of out ten subreddits would agree.
Cute, attentive. Dedicated to the dick he's getting off enough he doesn't even pop his mouth off for a retort, only makes a low noise of agreement in his throat and the slightest of nods. Even words or a on-key reference aren't worth taking his mouth off, or moving his gaze away. Nah. He likes the taste of human connection and sex, all in that heady mix that is just about the only thing that manages to quiet Wade's brain enough to shut him up.
There's something fucking special about a glowing eye watching you gobble up a cock. Something that's gonna stick in his mind for a real long time. The only detriment to having a busy mouth and hands is he doesn't have any to take a picture.
Maybe, when Cable's eyes close, he can accept it's a little too special for a Polaroid.
To him. Maybe it's just a fun time for Cable, but --
Who gives a fuck? He's on his knees, getting a crick in his neck, and he keeps going until he's swallowing against the flood of saliva in his mouth.
It's the second comment that makes him pop off for a breath, though he immediately replaces his mouth with his hand. For the moment.] Nothin' says we can't.
[That's blanket permission. His mouth goes back to work and he works, until Cable's gonna be puddy in his hands. Or. Mouth. Tongue, specifically. Why's he so good with his tongue?]
Yeah. [Says Cable, who is dizzy with Wade's horniness.]
Nothin'. [He repeats the sentiment, mimicking Wade's inflection when he does. Somehow, it doesn't seem condescending.
Impressive when the other man is between his legs, sucking his dick. Cable doesn't see the need to waste time, so he finds the wherewithal to multitask. Something that telekinesis is very useful for.
Cable raises his hand, gesturing in the air until he can pluck lube out of the bedside table with sheer force of will (and genetically transferrable powers). Imperfect powers, too, since he drops the bottle on Wade's head with a soft thud.]
Oopsie. [Jesus. He gently pats Wade's struck head, apologetic. But his expression is like stone.]
[He's not exactly Tolstoy on his best day, but Wade's really catching onto either all of Cable's blood is needed to fuel his brain and when it's gone elsewhere the whole thing shuts down, or he's just that fucking good.
Obviously, he's picking that option --
Lucky he doesn't bite his dick in reaction. Real lucky. Wade's a pro.] Ow.
[Just so Cabes knows he's absolutely affected. Wait, did he seriously just say "oopsie"? When he looks up with a low laugh -- the kind that goes mostly through his nose -- he's the grinning clown to Cable's stone.] Sounds like I'm melting it. [He just manages to snag the lube with a hand, and he has just enough brain himself to steal a bit for his hands before dropping it on Cable's thigh.
His hand takes over where his mouth was, only 'cause he's gotta enjoy this while it's happening. Make it last a little longer.] Feel pretty good not to be overthinking for once in your life?
[He actually has no idea what he's doing, but he's 100% dedicated to keepin' it going.]
Feels like you're melting it. [He confirms. The second question he only answers by closing his eyes and breathing out. Like he started a thought and he can't begin to get it out.
He pushes through it to gain his focus back, taking the lube and wetting his fingers. With a hand on Wade's shoulder, he pulls him a little closer so his hand can reach his ass. His two middle fingers stroke Wade's hole up and down, not inviting a finger yet. Inviting the suggestion of a finger.]
Last chance to tell me you're a virgin. [Dryly. He presses his fingertip harder against him, still not inside him.]
[If only he could follow it up with my brain's not the worst place to be if they're gonna be on a wavelength this intimate, except it actually is. It's like expecting a nice beach vacation and ending up on a beach where a whale's carcass just let out a massive corpse fart and exploded everywhere, scattering organs across the sand.
So, he can't say that part. But he can say:] You should enjoy the ride.
[Melting brains can be a net positive when you're going for it, animal style. It's not like Wade's overthinking now they're in the throes of things. Not when he's got the taste of sweat and cock on his tongue.
He's starting to think he likes seeing Cable like this. 'Cause god knows he wants to hear him say oopsie again.
Wade raises up on his knees with the pull, like he's just another object being pulled around by his telepathy. Now there's a thought. A shudder moves its way across his cratered skin, the smoothest parts between the tumours tinting pink to red.
He grins.] I'm a brand-spankin'-new virgin every day. So you gonna pop that cherry, daddy? [He wiggles his ass enticingly. Look, Wade's not exactly a looker but the ass is undeniable. Muscular and succulent. Not even the least bit dehydrated.] C'mon. I'm waiting.
[Wade's unpredictable, unruly nature is uniquely challenging-- and Cable likes to be mentally stimulated. He can't deny, though, he does get a thrill whenever Wade physically submits without questioning it. Especially now.
It doesn't stop him from looking befuddled for a moment, visibly processing the new information. This is also uniquely challenging, because Wade is wiggling his ass. Cable shakes his head.]
Uh-huh. [He doesn't have time to unpack how he feels about that (good) when there's business to attend to. His finger pushes against Wade, working its way inside him. Like with anything in Cable's life, he's very precise about every motion. He pushes in to the base of his finger, then half out, then he's circling his finger inside Wade. He keeps the pressure on him, persistently looking for the places that make him squeak.]
[He'll love being compared to a cat with a slow-feeder mat after the coitus, promise. Whether he's actively killing Nate's braincells or providing visual and auditory stimulation does not matter right now.
As long as he's gonna get simulation soon. Before he starts resorting to more than just a little tease.
Which. Okay, he was kind of joking. Maybe. He can definitely say the first time being pegged hurt about the same amount as the tenth time, and that was before the mutation. Assholes are flexible. Wade's just happens to rebuild every time his cells decide to die and be sparked back to life, or replaced with spicier, cancerier cells. It's like a puzzle box that's rescrambled itself up just in time for every new sexytime.
This is the worst analogy (heh, anal-ogy) ever. Just forget he made it.
There. A beautiful spark rockets across his brain, probably frying one the lobes in the mean time.] Fuck. Finally. [One finger, no matter how thick and calloused, isn't comparable to a dick, but they're getting somewhere.
Maybe not quite a squeak. But Wade's about as vocal as he ever is, with little grunts and groans and another chill that moves him closer until he's all but straddling Nate's lap. Thing is, that's reminding him (fuck, he was not kidding, thinking is about as easy as swimming in maple syrup right now) he didn't finish his job.] Yeah. Fuck, yeah. It's good.
[Gives him a little encouragement, then he gives Little Nate a heated look between them. Give enough room for Nate to finger his asshole, give himself enough room for his lubed fingers to wrap around Nate's cock again and stroke again. Something something Kill before me and I'll come you. Wait. Close enough.] You? Good?
[They're nailing the conversational part of this.]
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Unsure how to cope with it, he's visibly dumbfounded before he finally finds some words.]
You're a brain injury.
[He fires back, viciously articulate and absolutely not resorting to Wade's type of defence.
But he is trying to pay a compliment, because Wade is a brain injury that makes him stupider with his presence. And he is fond of him, sincerely. He gives him a lingering, cryptic look as he releases Wade's boner and rolls off him.
His metal hand reaches around the back of Wade's neck, guiding his head toward his lap. Not unlike the way Wade guided him to his dick moments before.]
Put your money where your mouth is, Wilson.
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[Sure, he could tease Cable ruthlessly about both that expression and the fact he seems to lost complete faculties of his witty insults (no more mentions of clownery?) because Wade's at his same baseline of usual stupidity, but honest to god? He's so into it. He's so into it he's not gonna bring it up because then it might turn into a thing, and he wants to hear Cable say something else stupid, especially mid-fuck.
Wade easily slips to his knees, only taking long enough to get his fucking pants off. They're just in the way and if he's gonna be hard, he's gonna be hard and freeballing it, baby. Literally. If he's not already turned off by Wade's weird cancerous cock, he's not gonna be turned off by anything.]
But not erectile dysfunction, thank god.
[Oh, there's some of that Cable witticism.] I got a whole lot more mouth than I got money.
[At least he's not too interested in teasing it out to an annoying level, though. (Yet.) He's all method here, pushing whatever clothing's still remaining out of his way to get to Cable's cock, scooting himself between his spread legs, which are giving just enough room for Wade's weirdly big shoulders. Wade gives him a salacious glance upwards -- somewhat offset by how dewy his brown eyes are -- his hand rolling over Cable's dick with a quick one-two stroke (just like the horny romance novels, a little spit goes a long way) right before popping his mottled lips over the tip, wet with a swipe of his tongue.
He goes at it like a soldier with a mission.
The moan he gives isn't put-on. No, that's authentic, high-grade horny buffoonery. AAA Canadian wish fulfillment. And mouth fulfillment.]
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He does quietly wonder if they'll ever talk about that, since his fingertips are tracing shapes over the topographical map that is Wade's shoulders.
Unsurprisingly, Wade is very good at this. He's a lot of talk, but he's not all talk. He gets the highest honour a man can get out of Cable-- a small, pleased huff as he relaxes into getting his dick sucked. His fingers run along Wade's spine, down his neck to his back and up again.]
You're very good at this.
[Some things don't need to stay secret in the internal monologue. Not when Cable's feeling particularly stupid. He meets Wade's big, brown eyes with his mismatched ones. It's still glowing, which means Wade is doing something right. He's also doing something right when the light disappears, because it means Cable is closing his eyes.
His hips roll up to meet Wade's mouth, murmuring:]
We should do this more often.
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Cute, attentive. Dedicated to the dick he's getting off enough he doesn't even pop his mouth off for a retort, only makes a low noise of agreement in his throat and the slightest of nods. Even words or a on-key reference aren't worth taking his mouth off, or moving his gaze away. Nah. He likes the taste of human connection and sex, all in that heady mix that is just about the only thing that manages to quiet Wade's brain enough to shut him up.
There's something fucking special about a glowing eye watching you gobble up a cock. Something that's gonna stick in his mind for a real long time. The only detriment to having a busy mouth and hands is he doesn't have any to take a picture.
Maybe, when Cable's eyes close, he can accept it's a little too special for a Polaroid.
To him. Maybe it's just a fun time for Cable, but --
Who gives a fuck? He's on his knees, getting a crick in his neck, and he keeps going until he's swallowing against the flood of saliva in his mouth.
It's the second comment that makes him pop off for a breath, though he immediately replaces his mouth with his hand. For the moment.] Nothin' says we can't.
[That's blanket permission. His mouth goes back to work and he works, until Cable's gonna be puddy in his hands. Or. Mouth. Tongue, specifically. Why's he so good with his tongue?]
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Nothin'. [He repeats the sentiment, mimicking Wade's inflection when he does. Somehow, it doesn't seem condescending.
Impressive when the other man is between his legs, sucking his dick. Cable doesn't see the need to waste time, so he finds the wherewithal to multitask. Something that telekinesis is very useful for.
Cable raises his hand, gesturing in the air until he can pluck lube out of the bedside table with sheer force of will (and genetically transferrable powers). Imperfect powers, too, since he drops the bottle on Wade's head with a soft thud.]
Oopsie. [Jesus. He gently pats Wade's struck head, apologetic. But his expression is like stone.]
What are you doing to my brain?
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Obviously, he's picking that option --
Lucky he doesn't bite his dick in reaction. Real lucky. Wade's a pro.] Ow.
[Just so Cabes knows he's absolutely affected. Wait, did he seriously just say "oopsie"? When he looks up with a low laugh -- the kind that goes mostly through his nose -- he's the grinning clown to Cable's stone.] Sounds like I'm melting it. [He just manages to snag the lube with a hand, and he has just enough brain himself to steal a bit for his hands before dropping it on Cable's thigh.
His hand takes over where his mouth was, only 'cause he's gotta enjoy this while it's happening. Make it last a little longer.] Feel pretty good not to be overthinking for once in your life?
[He actually has no idea what he's doing, but he's 100% dedicated to keepin' it going.]
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He pushes through it to gain his focus back, taking the lube and wetting his fingers. With a hand on Wade's shoulder, he pulls him a little closer so his hand can reach his ass. His two middle fingers stroke Wade's hole up and down, not inviting a finger yet. Inviting the suggestion of a finger.]
Last chance to tell me you're a virgin. [Dryly. He presses his fingertip harder against him, still not inside him.]
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So, he can't say that part. But he can say:] You should enjoy the ride.
[Melting brains can be a net positive when you're going for it, animal style. It's not like Wade's overthinking now they're in the throes of things. Not when he's got the taste of sweat and cock on his tongue.
He's starting to think he likes seeing Cable like this. 'Cause god knows he wants to hear him say oopsie again.
Wade raises up on his knees with the pull, like he's just another object being pulled around by his telepathy. Now there's a thought. A shudder moves its way across his cratered skin, the smoothest parts between the tumours tinting pink to red.
He grins.] I'm a brand-spankin'-new virgin every day. So you gonna pop that cherry, daddy? [He wiggles his ass enticingly. Look, Wade's not exactly a looker but the ass is undeniable. Muscular and succulent. Not even the least bit dehydrated.] C'mon. I'm waiting.
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It doesn't stop him from looking befuddled for a moment, visibly processing the new information. This is also uniquely challenging, because Wade is wiggling his ass. Cable shakes his head.]
Uh-huh. [He doesn't have time to unpack how he feels about that (good) when there's business to attend to. His finger pushes against Wade, working its way inside him. Like with anything in Cable's life, he's very precise about every motion. He pushes in to the base of his finger, then half out, then he's circling his finger inside Wade. He keeps the pressure on him, persistently looking for the places that make him squeak.]
Good?
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As long as he's gonna get simulation soon. Before he starts resorting to more than just a little tease.
Which. Okay, he was kind of joking. Maybe. He can definitely say the first time being pegged hurt about the same amount as the tenth time, and that was before the mutation. Assholes are flexible. Wade's just happens to rebuild every time his cells decide to die and be sparked back to life, or replaced with spicier, cancerier cells. It's like a puzzle box that's rescrambled itself up just in time for every new sexytime.
This is the worst analogy (heh, anal-ogy) ever. Just forget he made it.
There. A beautiful spark rockets across his brain, probably frying one the lobes in the mean time.] Fuck. Finally. [One finger, no matter how thick and calloused, isn't comparable to a dick, but they're getting somewhere.
Maybe not quite a squeak. But Wade's about as vocal as he ever is, with little grunts and groans and another chill that moves him closer until he's all but straddling Nate's lap. Thing is, that's reminding him (fuck, he was not kidding, thinking is about as easy as swimming in maple syrup right now) he didn't finish his job.] Yeah. Fuck, yeah. It's good.
[Gives him a little encouragement, then he gives Little Nate a heated look between them. Give enough room for Nate to finger his asshole, give himself enough room for his lubed fingers to wrap around Nate's cock again and stroke again. Something something Kill before me and I'll come you. Wait. Close enough.] You? Good?
[They're nailing the conversational part of this.]