🎵 Believe it or not, Hugh isn't at home 🎵 🎷 Please leave a message at the beep 🎷 🎶 I must be out, or I'd pick up the phone 🎶 🎺 Where could I be? Believe it or not, I'm not home! 🎺
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:]
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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.]
no subject
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.