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In life, Wade noticed, the odds were generally always stacked against his favour. Some things just weren’t fair.
Of the things in life that simply weren’t fair:
The soft serve machines at Wade’s local fast food chain simply never being in operation.
The two-party candidacy system.
The X-men constantly rejecting Wade’s (polite, and very well-considered) application requests. Even though he’d be doing them a favour.
But the top of the list of unfair things in life that caused Wade consistent turmoil was a certain pair of mismatched and completely unfair biceps.
If you let your eyes follow along that pair of mismatched and unfair biceps, you’ll find they come attached to a pair of huge and entirely unfair shoulders (typically emphasised by entirely ridiculous shoulder pads, which Wade’s fingers often itched to grab onto, outside his volition). The shoulders connected themselves to a chest. The less said about said chest, the better. Now we follow those pectorals down to…
“Wade.”
“Hh?”
Wade was shocked back to reality by the smooth tone of Nathan’s voice, which was only slightly shaken by soft panting.
“You’re off world again.” Nathan said, grinning that entirely unfair grin at Wade.
“I’m –” Wade cleared his throat, voice coming out harsher and more throaty than usual. “Not. I’m just so in the zone, you know, and you never take your eyes off your enemy in combat, which is why it might appear that I’m in a homoerotic gazing contest with you but really I’m –”
“You’re hard.”
Wade froze.
He (with all the will-power in the Universe) tore his eyes away from his sparring partner to look downwards.
Wade swallowed, and his brain ran a mile a minute to come up with some kind of defense.
“Yeah, and? It’s a show of dominance. Besides, I was thinking of a girl when you had your huge, hulking arms wrapped around me. So, like, don’t flatter yourself and please stop making eye-contact with me you’reonlymakingitworse.”
Wade scrunched his eyes shut and heaved a miserable groan, turning to leave the room.
It’s fine, really. What’s a bit of humiliation between broskis? Wade’s done a slew of humiliating things in front of Nate. In fact, he can’t seem to catch a break. Nate’s consistently seen Wade at his very worst. At his ugliest. At his most unbearable.
Somehow he still keeps coming back.
“It’s natural, you know.” Nathan said cooly, and Wade’s head wanted nothing more than to lean back into that reassuring voice.
His body wanted nothing more than to sprint away from the situation, and find some sad little corner to jerk off and neglect to address any sort of deeper meaning to all this.
“I can help.”
Wade froze on his exit, hand on the doorway.
He couldn’t be hearing right.
“Come again?”
“I said I can help you.”
Nathan’s smooth, soft, reassuring tone of voice. Wade tried so desperately to dissect it. Dissect his inflection. Figure out just how sincere Nate was being here.
He didn’t know what to make of it.
It made everything so much harde– more complicated.
He didn’t turn back to look at Nate.
“‘Help me’ in, like, a general philosophical sense, or like, with my Johnson? Be more specific here.”
“I’ll jerk you off.” Nathan said, nonchalant as anything.
Wade felt like his brain was going to combust, and he couldn’t help a completely idiotic whimper coming out of his open mouth.
His cock had risen to full attention at the prospect.
This was… this was so unfair.
When Wade gathered enough semblance of sanity for words to return to him, he bit.
“H-hilarious”, Wade said, trying for a joking tone but it sounded almost like a wince. “I don’t need you to make fun of me, Nate. That’s something I can do all by myself.”
“Sure. But do you want to do this all by yourself?”
Wade was shaken by just how close Nathan’s voice had gotten behind him.
“Or would you appreciate a helping hand?”
Wade shivered, his one hand on the doorway gripping for grim death as Nathan’s voice travelled down his spine.
“You’re not serious.” Wade scrunched his eyes shut, “Stop it. It’s really not funny. You’re not the funny one.”
“Alright.” Nathan stopped his approach. “I’m just… surprised, is all. With all your talk, I didn’t expect you to be so…”
One of Wade’s eyes shot open.
Wade made a frustrated huff.
“What? Are you – you think I’m a prude? ”
“...closed-minded.”
Wade made a high-pitched, insulted noise.
“I’m – not a...” Wade finally turned to look at Nathan. He was eye-level with Nathan’s huge chest. He closed his eyes in respects for the last shreds of his sanity before he tilted his head up to address Nate directly. “Listen, I’m all up for experimentation, but – you – I – nobody… nobody wants to touch this.”
“I do.”
Wade swallowed, closing his eyes again.
“You… do.” Wade repeated Nathan’s words, unconvinced.
“I do.” Nate repeated, more persuasively.
So, so unfair.
“I just need the word, Wade.”
For just a second, Wade’s brain was still. Every bit of reason and doubt and hesitation had sept out of his ears in a viscous liquid, and his brain was radio silent.
“...yeah, okay.”
Promptly Nathan had Wade on all fours on the wrestling mat, leaning over him, chest flush against Wade’s back, skin-to-skin.
Wade’s body was a tightly coiled spring.
He was uncharacteristically quiet as Nathan stroked him, save for small gasps and curses that he struggled to stifle.
No dumb commentary, no ‘please, touch me more, Daddy’, Wade would let nothing fly past his already abysmal brain-to-mouth filter to fuck this moment up.
Nathan’s pace was agonisingly slow.
“Expected you’d be more expedient at this.” Wade’s mouth ran away from him, (A for effort).
“You want this over with quickly?” Nate whispered in Wade’s ear, thumb sliding downwards to rub small circles at Wade’s cock head.
Wade whined.
“S-s-such a ... tease…” Wade groaned, hips canting.
The texture of Nathan’s T.O hand was so alien to Wade, who’d (tell no one) spent many an evening trying to imagine what it would feel like against his cock. What it would feel like against his tongue.
Do you think he’d let us lick his arm? Or his –
“S-shh”, Wade said audibly, eyes screwed tight, just trying to shut his brain up and focus on the sensation of Nathan’s strong, warm metal fingers gliding against his skin. He didn’t know when he’d ever feel this again, and he wanted to immortalise every second of this into his brain to revisit on future lonely evenings.
Despite all attention being directed squarely on Wade Jr, it wasn’t lost on Wade that Nathan’s breath was loud and uneven in his ear.
It wasn’t lost on Wade that there was something long and hard rutting against Wade’s hip through soft sweats.
“F-fuck”, Wade groaned at the thought. The thought that it was even conceivable, in this Universe, for Wade to shake Nathan up even a fraction of what Nate had done to him.
Wade doubled down, starting to rock his hips at a steady pace against Nathan’s erection, earning himself a low, breathy sigh from the larger ( much larger) man.
The double down was a double-edged sword, though, as Wade rocked into Nathan’s hand at a faster pace, and oh god, what very little restraint Wade had in making this last was being violently hurled out of a 55 storey window.
Wade’s pace turned desperate, and his masked face burned from his hot breath. He should’ve lifted his mask, just a little. Maybe Nate would’ve stuck his fingers in Wade’s mouth if he –
Wade begged for his thoughts to stop doing this to him and let himself be enveloped in the moment again. Nathan’s breath. The firm press of Nathan’s chest against his back. The ridges and bumps of Nathan’s metal hand swiftly unravelling him. It was all so perfect. It was all too perfect. It was all…
“Wade…” Nathan whispered, low and breathy, and that was all it took.
Wade bit down whatever sound was threatening it’s way out of him as he came in Nathan’s hand. His hips rocked frantically before coming to a slow still, head bowed and breath coming sharply from Wade’s nose.
He made a sad little whimpering noise that he prayed Nathan was too horny to hear.
“You did great.” Nathan said, and Wade could hear Nathan’s unbearable grin through his voice alone.
“Hah.” Wade responded, half breathless, half humoured. He pulled up his sweats almost immediately, caring very little for the mess he left on the mat.
He wormed his way out of Nathan’s hold, trying his best to conquer his still wobbling legs, and stood up, brushing himself off.
“So.” Wade cleared his throat.
“So.” Nathan echoed, sat on the mat, looking up at Wade with hooded eyes (that Wade adamantly refused to turn back and gaze into).
“Do you think there’s some kind of conspiracy about soft serve machines just, like, never being in operation when you need them?”
Nathan passed a small sigh, but listened to Wade’s babble.
“Like, McDonalds must be like, losing so much money. Most of the time I don’t even bother going because I’m like, well, what’s the point? The machine’s gonna be broke. Like. 90% of the time, the machine is gonna be broke, and I don’t wanna like, get my hopes up and think that I’m gonna land myself an Oreo McFlurry ™ and then, surprise surprise, the machine is broke.”
“The answer would be to give up on soft serve all together.” Nathan said, finally standing up. Adjusting himself. “There are better ice creams out there. If you’re open to experiment.”
Wade paid Nathan a backwards glance and snorted.
Then, completely undeterred, Wade continued his tirade.
“Really, I think it’s a scamming operation run by the soft serve machine manufacturers. They’re running these franchise owners into the ground , and you know what, I’m going to get to the bottom of this. The gentle labourer will no longer suffer at the hands of big corporate.”
He started out of the door, and Nathan watched fondly as Wade left him to clean up the mess.
“I’ll be writing many strongly worded emails.” Wade said.