[Seriously, why the fuck is he living here? Even Wade's motel isn't prone to giving him goddamn frostbite. And it's not like Nate's got the whole furnace thing going for him when half of him is metal. Well. The half that doesn't really matter.
He tugs the sheets up around his neck. Which just leaves his bald head freezing in the air, but. It's fine. He's definitely had worse, even if he's definitely missing his hair system. Would've been ace at a time like this.]
Oh, yeah. Totally. Me, known for needing space. [What Wade does grab onto is mostly all of Harry, slipping a warm arm around his middle because he may be a lot of things, but a cuddler is. Definitely one of them. Eventually, he'll slip away. Let the guy sleep alone in the goddamn icebox that is his place. Maybe think a little too hard that this whole setup was for Valentine's Day, and a guy with a romantic edge enough to fine-tune a gift basket for him thought that Wade Wilson was, you know. Worth the effort.
He snorts. It's not an answer he has to pick at. Just, here he'd been thinking Harry wasn't super enthused about being seen with him in public.
Not that Wade could blame him for that one. Look at how much hair the guy has, first of all. His complete lack of on-the-books murders. Also, possibly, off-the-books.]
You really think I'd turn down a chance to freeze to death in the tundra, localized entirely in a motel room? Please. [Space. Something about it. Harry has put way too much energy into thinking of what he might like, in a way that is almost disturbing. He's not even part of the f-word. He's just... a guy. That Wade met. And carried around a few times.
Not even from the same canon.]
Well, you nailed me. [With the basket, not. Okay, that too.] Gonna be real tough to top that for next time.
[He kids. He doesn't expect shit. Honestly, if Harry wants anything to do with him in the future, it's gonna surprise him, good sex or not.]
[ This busted radiator that should have been fixed ages ago. Will Harry find a resolution to his icebox problem? The jury is still out on that one. All the phone calls between Harry and his landlord have been … productive. If by productive you mean getting hung up mid-sentence. Then, yeah. He is making real headway there.
Harry turns himself over onto his side with his back facing Wade. His little butt shimmies close to Wade’s pelvis as he lets the big guy wrap an arm around his midsection. Harry can’t see, but he is probably close enough for Wade to get a whiff of his hair. Freshly washed with a hint of pomade.
There, Harry brushes over Wade’s calloused hand with his and lifts it off his stomach, pulling it close to his lips. ]
Then I will try to make it worth your while. [ And he gives the back of his hand a soft peck. ] Perhaps … a day at the bathhouse and a half-decent seafood place?
[ He laughs. Won’t that be something? Seafood? On a piece of land with one enigmatic ocean? Good luck with that. ]
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think we can wrap this up!! in the next tag or two
He tugs the sheets up around his neck. Which just leaves his bald head freezing in the air, but. It's fine. He's definitely had worse, even if he's definitely missing his hair system. Would've been ace at a time like this.]
Oh, yeah. Totally. Me, known for needing space. [What Wade does grab onto is mostly all of Harry, slipping a warm arm around his middle because he may be a lot of things, but a cuddler is. Definitely one of them. Eventually, he'll slip away. Let the guy sleep alone in the goddamn icebox that is his place. Maybe think a little too hard that this whole setup was for Valentine's Day, and a guy with a romantic edge enough to fine-tune a gift basket for him thought that Wade Wilson was, you know. Worth the effort.
He snorts. It's not an answer he has to pick at. Just, here he'd been thinking Harry wasn't super enthused about being seen with him in public.
Not that Wade could blame him for that one. Look at how much hair the guy has, first of all. His complete lack of on-the-books murders. Also, possibly, off-the-books.]
You really think I'd turn down a chance to freeze to death in the tundra, localized entirely in a motel room? Please. [Space. Something about it. Harry has put way too much energy into thinking of what he might like, in a way that is almost disturbing. He's not even part of the f-word. He's just... a guy. That Wade met. And carried around a few times.
Not even from the same canon.]
Well, you nailed me. [With the basket, not. Okay, that too.] Gonna be real tough to top that for next time.
[He kids. He doesn't expect shit. Honestly, if Harry wants anything to do with him in the future, it's gonna surprise him, good sex or not.]
let's put a lil 🎀 on this old man yaoi
[ This busted radiator that should have been fixed ages ago. Will Harry find a resolution to his icebox problem? The jury is still out on that one. All the phone calls between Harry and his landlord have been … productive. If by productive you mean getting hung up mid-sentence. Then, yeah. He is making real headway there.
Harry turns himself over onto his side with his back facing Wade. His little butt shimmies close to Wade’s pelvis as he lets the big guy wrap an arm around his midsection. Harry can’t see, but he is probably close enough for Wade to get a whiff of his hair. Freshly washed with a hint of pomade.
There, Harry brushes over Wade’s calloused hand with his and lifts it off his stomach, pulling it close to his lips. ]
Then I will try to make it worth your while. [ And he gives the back of his hand a soft peck. ] Perhaps … a day at the bathhouse and a half-decent seafood place?
[ He laughs. Won’t that be something? Seafood? On a piece of land with one enigmatic ocean? Good luck with that. ]